In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Children of the Heavenly Father:
Psalm 27: "The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life. Of whom shall I be afraid?"
There's something inevitable in our lives in addition to death and taxes: fear. One minute we confess that worry and fear plague us, and the next minute we have convinced ourselves that those things that keep us up at night are best handled by joining Bobby McFerrin as he sings, "Don't worry. Be happy."
A life of fear, an anxious heart, and endless days of worry about everything and nothing. This is our lot since our first parents took that first big bite into knowledge of good and evil and the unending heartache that came along as a special added bonus.
Life in a world of thistles and thorns where food is provided by the sweat of our brow and the knowledge that clothes and shoes and house and car and all the other stuff of this world unexpectedly breaks or slowly but inevitably wears out. Including our health and the ability to be independent masters of our own fate. Our position at the company is suddenly eliminated. Someone in our family no longer will talk to us. The bank sends a registered letter to announce that they are foreclosing on the house. The kids need braces and we haven't even started to think about a savings plan for college or our own retirement. And what we could do with our bodies ten years ago takes four ibuprofen to do today.
And we worry and pop another antacid or try to loose ourselves in a worry-free life of listening to music in the car or watching a movie in the den or preoccupying ourselves with our sports teams or creating a life free from fear somewhere on the internet.
We are children of fallen and sinful parents who perpetually bounced between denial of fear and fear that overtook them and overwhelmed them and threatened to suffocate them. With their son murdered and their other son on the lamb, with paradise lost and death and decay set in motion as the fruit of doubt and disobedience, for Adam and Eve everything, it seemed, was out of their control.
The history of mankind, the history of fallen men and women, our entire history — is one of fear and anxiety and our feeble little attempts to contain and subdue and control it and — if none of that worked — pretend that it simply didn't exist.
Sin's fruit? The consequences of doubt in God's grace and goodness as our heavenly Father who always has our best interests in mind. The dread of coming face-to-face with everything that is out of our hands. Things that are the consequence of our own foolishness and rebellion. Things that are the consequence of simply living in a fallen world ultimately helpless in its attempts to reverse the forces of death and decay and re-create the security of that Paradise lost.
And so, even for us as Christians, fear desires to rule our minds and hearts and lives. The constant drumbeat of anxiety more often than not gets the best of us as it drowns out the quiet whisper of God's promise — the pledge made to Eve and Adam and all their children.
It's really an eye-opening exercise to mark the entire history of salvation by noting the hundreds of places in the Holy Scriptures where we come upon the word "fear." Worry and anxiety is all over the place when we hear about the lives of the faithful who have gone before us. People like Abraham and Daniel and Jacob and David and Joseph. The people of Judah. The people of Israel. Zechariah and Mary and Peter. Fallen and sinful people — just like you and me — plagued by fear and haunted by anxiety over the things of this life.
It is to these preoccupied, burdened, sleep-deprived people that Jesus speaks as he journeys to Jerusalem and the Cross.
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the twelfth chapter:
And [Jesus] said to his disciples, “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, nor about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? If then you are not able to do as small a thing as that, why are you anxious about the rest? Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass, which is alive in the field today, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you, O you of little faith!" (Luke 12:22-28 ESV)
A simple and direct command by the Lord come in human flesh: "Do not be anxious about your life."
Yes, we are to be responsible in using the good talents and energies and opportunities our Lord gives us to provide for the needs of this life and our neighbor-in-need. Jesus is not commanding his own to live a life free of responsibility to ourselves, our family, our church family, and our community.
We cannot misuse Jesus' command here to announce to the world: "O.K. No more worries!" and then sell everything we have, quit our job, walk away from our school, abandon our family and let the church or the government take care of all our needs while we sit back and do nothing.
It is in the context of our labor — the hard work of providing for our needs and the needs of our neighbor that we hear Jesus say to us, "Don't be anxious about your life."
Jesus would have us acknowledge our sin and weakness and worry as we — at the same time — remember his Word — his Word that freely gives anxious people peace — his Word that freely gives fearful people strength and courage. His Word that has the last word over all the stuff of our lives we cannot control.
It is to the voice of our Lord we flee when we are at our wits end. The voice of our Lord through the apostle Paul who proclaims to worry-sick souls: "He who did not withhold his own Son, but gave him up for us all, will he not with him also give us everything else [we need]?" (Romans 8:32)
Our Lord Christ knows that we are anxious, nail-biting people. And only he comes to help us see our fears as they really are, that he might embrace them and take them into himself and make them his own.
Where do we go? Where do we run to find help with our stressed-out minds and anxious hearts?
We follow Abraham who answered the worries of his only-begotten son Isaac as they journeyed up the mountain:
And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering and laid it on Isaac his son. And he took in his hand the fire and the knife. So they went both of them together. And Isaac said to his father Abraham,“My father!” And he said,“Here am I, my son.” He said,“Behold, the fire and the wood, but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?” Abraham said, “God will provide …, my son.” (Genesis 22:6-8a ESV)
By the gift of God's grace, we place the brokenness and decay and uncertainties of life into the hands of our Creator and Redeemer and Sustainer and trustingly say, as Martin Luther use to say, "Pray and let God worry."
Looking to our crucified and risen Lord, we pray:
O most loving Father, you want us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing except losing you, and to lay all our cares upon you, knowing that you care for us. Strengthen us in our faith in you and your Word of promise. Grant that the fears and anxieties of this mortal life may not separate us from your love that is in Christ Jesus, your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen
Saturday, August 07, 2010
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Preoccupied with the Word. (Luke 10:38-42)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed in Christ:
Imagine you are in line in a store with someone who replies to the question, "What do you do for a living?" with the answer, "I'm an investor."
Do you give this person a hug or a punch in the stomach? What thoughts and images run through your mind?
Is this an investor in pork futures or the stock market?
Is this an investor in gold bullion or junk bonds?
Some of us have been badly burned by investors. We are still trying to recover from the investments they proclaimed. We have become weary of anyone telling us to place all our eggs in their basket of opportunity for guaranteed returns.
But even if we turn and run when we are solicited to invent in a company or a product or a commodity or a financial derivative, we are all investors — even if we still hide 20 dollar bills in our mattress.
We are creatures who were created — wired — to invest in something — in someone.
The almighty maker of heaven and earth made us — to trust, to serve, to follow, to invest not only in the NASDAQ, but in the Almighty himself and the work of his hands (this world given to us to manage as responsible, thankful stewards).
And so we see ourselves and all those around us as investors who put their stock in some things that are "good, right and salutary" and some things that are deceptive, dangerous, and even deadly.
Look around. Some in our lives have invested themselves in saving the planet. Others have invested themselves in supporting the crown of creation by advancing medicines for smallpox and AIDS and malaria around the world.
But what about you? What do you find yourself investing in? Take a look at your calendar. Take a look at your checkbook. Take a look at how you spend your time and energy. Take stock of what would be the most devastating thing to loose.
What do you find yourself invested in?
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the 10th chapter:
Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42 ESV)
Martha had given in to investing in the things we are also tempted to give in to: the promise that if we are busy enough with our family, if we are busy enough with our kids, if we are busy enough with our friends or work — then we will earn for ourselves God's unending praise and a bigger crown in heaven than our neighbor down the street.
"But Martha was distracted with much serving."
Maybe it's happened to you recently as you extended an invitation to a family member, an across-the-street neighbor, a co-worker, a friend to join you for a Bible study here at Redeemer. "Oh, I would love to come." is the response. "But I'm so busy. I have to …" and then the un-ending list of this world's demands.
That's where Martha had ended up. The "have to's" of her life. The "have to's" of being the perfect host for Jesus and his salvation.
Maybe this morning you find yourself caught up in the un-ending "have to's" of life. The list that never gets shorter. The demands that never stop telling you it's all about your serving and your doing and your investing in your friends and work, in your family and your church family — and in your Savior and Lord.
Yes, we are called to serve our families. Yes, we are called to serve our community and friends. Yes, we are called to serve Christ and our neighbor-in-need. But as Martha learned the hard way, investing — serving others — must take its proper place.
Because God in Christ calls us first to be preoccupied at the feet of Jesus. To hear and receive in a quiet and strong confidence his Word.
And that's something our old, fallen, all-about-me nature can't do, and will never do, and will always fight against.
What's the difference between the true, gracious, saving Gospel of Jesus Christ and the empty, imitation gospels of the world and all the world's religions?
That life-changing difference is to be seen in Mary's God-given understanding that when it comes to salvation's investment, the true Gospel, the real Messiah — redemption revealed by God in his Holy Word — it's all about — will always be about — God's own, from the heart, investment in you.
God invested all that he had in you, despite your fallen, rebellious, have-to-have-it-my-way nature. Despite your lack of understanding when it comes to how salvation actually works. Despite your daily transgressions against him and your neighbor.
Christ — his perfect life and sacrificial death in you place — is God's great and gracious investment in you, and the person sitting next to you and the person down the street from your home that is sleeping in this morning.
God gave up. God gave over. God handed over his precious, only-begotten Son into the hands of evil men — for you and your salvation. No pre-salvation negotiations or deal-making. God invests in you - simply because that is the kind of gracious, merciful, "always more willing to forgive than we are to ask for forgiveness" God he is.
With the eyes of faith, Mary sees that. She is content with that. She is quietly confident in believing that in Jesus and his redeeming Word, she is, right there and now, God's dear child and an heir of heaven — even when it comes to her response to his healing Word. That's why she keeps her eyes on her Lord and her ears open to his Word.
This morning Christ and his holy Word calls us to turn the table on the devil, the world and our old, sinful flesh and see Christ as God's saving investment, and his Cross, his sacrifice for us, his Word as our only comfort, our only certainty, our only solid rock and defense.
As weak and sinful people, we confess finding ourselves too often believing it's all about our service and our work and our investing that makes heaven smile upon us.
But Christ calls us to daily remember our Baptism and continue to sit at his feet.
Because without his abiding presence, without his life-changing Word, our homes are mere houses, our congregation is just a social club, and the Bible is just another handbook for moral living.
Without Christ and his Word, water at the font is only water. Bread and wine from the altar is just bread and wine. And Sunday morning is nothing but a parade of our great works.
Only when we respond in faith to the Word of Christ as he comes in the Scriptures, as he comes in Baptism, as he comes in his holy Supper, can we get a glimpse into heaven's take on being truly free to invest in, to serve our neighbor selflessly, for the sake of our neighbor.
Do you want to give something to Christ? Do you want to invest in his salvation? Then come and give him — your many sins. Because Christ and his Word is the only redemption that can never be taken from us.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed in Christ:
Imagine you are in line in a store with someone who replies to the question, "What do you do for a living?" with the answer, "I'm an investor."
Do you give this person a hug or a punch in the stomach? What thoughts and images run through your mind?
Is this an investor in pork futures or the stock market?
Is this an investor in gold bullion or junk bonds?
Some of us have been badly burned by investors. We are still trying to recover from the investments they proclaimed. We have become weary of anyone telling us to place all our eggs in their basket of opportunity for guaranteed returns.
But even if we turn and run when we are solicited to invent in a company or a product or a commodity or a financial derivative, we are all investors — even if we still hide 20 dollar bills in our mattress.
We are creatures who were created — wired — to invest in something — in someone.
The almighty maker of heaven and earth made us — to trust, to serve, to follow, to invest not only in the NASDAQ, but in the Almighty himself and the work of his hands (this world given to us to manage as responsible, thankful stewards).
And so we see ourselves and all those around us as investors who put their stock in some things that are "good, right and salutary" and some things that are deceptive, dangerous, and even deadly.
Look around. Some in our lives have invested themselves in saving the planet. Others have invested themselves in supporting the crown of creation by advancing medicines for smallpox and AIDS and malaria around the world.
But what about you? What do you find yourself investing in? Take a look at your calendar. Take a look at your checkbook. Take a look at how you spend your time and energy. Take stock of what would be the most devastating thing to loose.
What do you find yourself invested in?
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the 10th chapter:
Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:38-42 ESV)
Martha had given in to investing in the things we are also tempted to give in to: the promise that if we are busy enough with our family, if we are busy enough with our kids, if we are busy enough with our friends or work — then we will earn for ourselves God's unending praise and a bigger crown in heaven than our neighbor down the street.
"But Martha was distracted with much serving."
Maybe it's happened to you recently as you extended an invitation to a family member, an across-the-street neighbor, a co-worker, a friend to join you for a Bible study here at Redeemer. "Oh, I would love to come." is the response. "But I'm so busy. I have to …" and then the un-ending list of this world's demands.
That's where Martha had ended up. The "have to's" of her life. The "have to's" of being the perfect host for Jesus and his salvation.
Maybe this morning you find yourself caught up in the un-ending "have to's" of life. The list that never gets shorter. The demands that never stop telling you it's all about your serving and your doing and your investing in your friends and work, in your family and your church family — and in your Savior and Lord.
Yes, we are called to serve our families. Yes, we are called to serve our community and friends. Yes, we are called to serve Christ and our neighbor-in-need. But as Martha learned the hard way, investing — serving others — must take its proper place.
Because God in Christ calls us first to be preoccupied at the feet of Jesus. To hear and receive in a quiet and strong confidence his Word.
And that's something our old, fallen, all-about-me nature can't do, and will never do, and will always fight against.
What's the difference between the true, gracious, saving Gospel of Jesus Christ and the empty, imitation gospels of the world and all the world's religions?
That life-changing difference is to be seen in Mary's God-given understanding that when it comes to salvation's investment, the true Gospel, the real Messiah — redemption revealed by God in his Holy Word — it's all about — will always be about — God's own, from the heart, investment in you.
God invested all that he had in you, despite your fallen, rebellious, have-to-have-it-my-way nature. Despite your lack of understanding when it comes to how salvation actually works. Despite your daily transgressions against him and your neighbor.
Christ — his perfect life and sacrificial death in you place — is God's great and gracious investment in you, and the person sitting next to you and the person down the street from your home that is sleeping in this morning.
God gave up. God gave over. God handed over his precious, only-begotten Son into the hands of evil men — for you and your salvation. No pre-salvation negotiations or deal-making. God invests in you - simply because that is the kind of gracious, merciful, "always more willing to forgive than we are to ask for forgiveness" God he is.
With the eyes of faith, Mary sees that. She is content with that. She is quietly confident in believing that in Jesus and his redeeming Word, she is, right there and now, God's dear child and an heir of heaven — even when it comes to her response to his healing Word. That's why she keeps her eyes on her Lord and her ears open to his Word.
This morning Christ and his holy Word calls us to turn the table on the devil, the world and our old, sinful flesh and see Christ as God's saving investment, and his Cross, his sacrifice for us, his Word as our only comfort, our only certainty, our only solid rock and defense.
As weak and sinful people, we confess finding ourselves too often believing it's all about our service and our work and our investing that makes heaven smile upon us.
But Christ calls us to daily remember our Baptism and continue to sit at his feet.
Because without his abiding presence, without his life-changing Word, our homes are mere houses, our congregation is just a social club, and the Bible is just another handbook for moral living.
Without Christ and his Word, water at the font is only water. Bread and wine from the altar is just bread and wine. And Sunday morning is nothing but a parade of our great works.
Only when we respond in faith to the Word of Christ as he comes in the Scriptures, as he comes in Baptism, as he comes in his holy Supper, can we get a glimpse into heaven's take on being truly free to invest in, to serve our neighbor selflessly, for the sake of our neighbor.
Do you want to give something to Christ? Do you want to invest in his salvation? Then come and give him — your many sins. Because Christ and his Word is the only redemption that can never be taken from us.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Saturday, June 05, 2010
Parade or Procession? Luke 7:11-17
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Dearly beloved in Christ:
Processions. We've witnessed a lot of them in the last several weeks. Processions around the United States during Memorial Day observances. Processions here at Redeemer for the last two Sundays - to mark Pentecost and Holy Trinity Sunday. And this Tuesday there will be a procession to the polling places to commemorate election day here in California.
But processions are, by their very definition, different than mere parades. Processions are more somber, more intentional, more revealing about life in this world and the things we really believe in, especially when things aren't going the way we might want.
"Everyone loves a parade." We who live in and around Huntington Beach should understand that — in a community that prides itself on having the biggest parade in the United States. "Everyone loves a parade." Just take a look at the excitement during Mardi Gras.
But not everyone loves a procession. Because a procession forces us to face the reality of what we have become as fallen, weak, helpless, poor and miserable children of our first parents — our first parent who lost it all in their power grab for glory and prestige and the limelight of being the ones in charge and calling the shots.
Precisely because of humanity's fall into sin — our fall into sin — we now not only have parades, we have processions. Processions that give witness to a fallen and dying world. Processions that proclaim who we have become under the tyrants of sin, death and the devil. Processions that confess our inability to fix the mess we have gotten ourselves into.
For the last several weeks there has been a procession of those who's livelihood depended on the beaches and the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. A procession of trading in fishing nets for oil containment boom and chemical dispersant sprays. A constant witness to the feeble abilities of industry and government and society to provide a quick fix to the threatening forces in the world — the overwhelming forces in our lives and in the lives of those around us.
You see, processions in a world twisted and infected with sin are as old as our first parents. Take a look at the generations of God's people before the advent of Christ. Processions that wandered in the wilderness. Processions of chained captives being lead into Babylon. And processions of sacrifices to the Tabernacle and Temple to give witness to the need for a once-for-all redemption from the spiritual Pharaoh and his eternal grip on each of us.
Processions define us. Who we have become. And before Christ, what defined us was an endless procession of failure to love God, the maker of heaven and earth. Before Christ, what defined us was an endless procession of despair. A hopeless procession that trumpeted the seemingly unstoppable chorus of, "Dust you are, and to dust you shall return."
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the Seventh Chapter:
Soon afterward [Jesus] went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a great crowd went with him. As he drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, and a considerable crowd from the town was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” and “God has visited his people!” And this report about him spread through the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country. (Luke 7:11-17 ESV)
We can't imagine a darker, more hopeless situation. The untimely death of the only-begotten son — of a woman who had already lost her husband, and with it her ability to adequately provide for her needs and the needs of her son. She has now lost her precious son. Her only means of support. Her last comfort and joy. She is left alone and grieving.
We can't imagine a more pitiful and heart-breaking situation. And neither could the townspeople of the little village of Nain. Their hearts went out to this woman lost in the poverty of her miserable situation. They process with her in silence — out of the town, out of the place of the living to the place of the lost, to the place of those taken by sin and the consequences of sin.
Yet, in the midst of hopelessness, in the midst of complete despair, in the midst of the seemingly unchangeable effects of death and disease, the most unlikely of men comes to put his hand on the situation and call all to follow him as he begins a procession only he can lead.
The procession our Lord Christ leads was what the patriarchs of old had put their trust in, what they, in faith, had always looked forward to. This is why Joseph had left instructions concerning his remains, that they would be prepared for the day Christ would lead his people out of Egypt to the Promised Land.
The coming of the procession of our Lord Christ is what Abraham and Isaac and Jacob held on to — in life and in death. This is the revelation announced by Elijah to the widow in Zarephath.
The advent of the Messiah's procession. This was the song of angels before prophets and shepherds outside Bethlehem.
Jesus begins a new procession. He said as much at the beginning of his public ministry before the people of Nazareth when read from the pulpit:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind;
To set at liberty those who are oppressed;
To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19 ESV)
Jesus stops a funeral procession in its tracks, and with his touch, with his "gives-everything-it-promises" Word, begins a new procession that leads dead and dying people back, into the land of liberty, the land of the Gospel, the land of God's eternal grace and favor.
This is the witness of the Christian Church until Christ comes again in all power and glory: everything has changed as our Lord Jesus turns around our procession — the march of fallen, sinful, dying people — and makes it his procession.
Jesus' calls out to all who will listen with the ears of faith: follow me. Follow my lead. Follow my way: from Bethlehem to the Jordan, from Nazareth to Nain, to the place of your redemption: to Jerusalem. To the Upper Room to the Mount of Olives. To Calvary.
That day Jesus confronted sin and the deadly consequences of sin. In touching the dead, Jesus proclaimed what we and all believers give witness to: Jesus was sent to lay aside the glories of heaven as he took upon himself our weakness and despair and grief over what we have done and what we have failed to do.
What is our witness as a Christian congregation? Get God to notice you by doing great things for him? Make a difference in the world and then God will bless your efforts? Surrender all and then God will give you everything you want?
Our witness continues to be simply a finger point to God's gift of grace, God's gift of faith, God's saving gift of his Word: his Word made manifest through prophets and apostles, and finally in the person of his very Son.
Who walked our road, who took upon himself our march to the grave, that we would be lead on a procession of life eternal.
Do you believe this morning that you are beyond God's grace and forgiveness? That because of your sin there might be forgiveness and restoration for other but not for you? Do you find yourself dead when it comes to turning your life around and living a holy and acceptable life under the Word of God?
Then look to Christ's procession.
A procession to the his Cross. A procession to the his Font. A procession to his Table. A procession to his unexpected way of salvation. In God-given trust, let Christ lead.
May Christ in his mercy continue his saving work in the places and times he has promised. And may Christ in his grace continue to give us as Christians — and as a Christian congregation — the ability to witness to the reality of the world's dead-end parades, and in the way of the Cross — Jesus' procession of Life. Amen
Dearly beloved in Christ:
Processions. We've witnessed a lot of them in the last several weeks. Processions around the United States during Memorial Day observances. Processions here at Redeemer for the last two Sundays - to mark Pentecost and Holy Trinity Sunday. And this Tuesday there will be a procession to the polling places to commemorate election day here in California.
But processions are, by their very definition, different than mere parades. Processions are more somber, more intentional, more revealing about life in this world and the things we really believe in, especially when things aren't going the way we might want.
"Everyone loves a parade." We who live in and around Huntington Beach should understand that — in a community that prides itself on having the biggest parade in the United States. "Everyone loves a parade." Just take a look at the excitement during Mardi Gras.
But not everyone loves a procession. Because a procession forces us to face the reality of what we have become as fallen, weak, helpless, poor and miserable children of our first parents — our first parent who lost it all in their power grab for glory and prestige and the limelight of being the ones in charge and calling the shots.
Precisely because of humanity's fall into sin — our fall into sin — we now not only have parades, we have processions. Processions that give witness to a fallen and dying world. Processions that proclaim who we have become under the tyrants of sin, death and the devil. Processions that confess our inability to fix the mess we have gotten ourselves into.
For the last several weeks there has been a procession of those who's livelihood depended on the beaches and the waters of the Gulf of Mexico. A procession of trading in fishing nets for oil containment boom and chemical dispersant sprays. A constant witness to the feeble abilities of industry and government and society to provide a quick fix to the threatening forces in the world — the overwhelming forces in our lives and in the lives of those around us.
You see, processions in a world twisted and infected with sin are as old as our first parents. Take a look at the generations of God's people before the advent of Christ. Processions that wandered in the wilderness. Processions of chained captives being lead into Babylon. And processions of sacrifices to the Tabernacle and Temple to give witness to the need for a once-for-all redemption from the spiritual Pharaoh and his eternal grip on each of us.
Processions define us. Who we have become. And before Christ, what defined us was an endless procession of failure to love God, the maker of heaven and earth. Before Christ, what defined us was an endless procession of despair. A hopeless procession that trumpeted the seemingly unstoppable chorus of, "Dust you are, and to dust you shall return."
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the Seventh Chapter:
Soon afterward [Jesus] went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a great crowd went with him. As he drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, and a considerable crowd from the town was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then he came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, “A great prophet has arisen among us!” and “God has visited his people!” And this report about him spread through the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country. (Luke 7:11-17 ESV)
We can't imagine a darker, more hopeless situation. The untimely death of the only-begotten son — of a woman who had already lost her husband, and with it her ability to adequately provide for her needs and the needs of her son. She has now lost her precious son. Her only means of support. Her last comfort and joy. She is left alone and grieving.
We can't imagine a more pitiful and heart-breaking situation. And neither could the townspeople of the little village of Nain. Their hearts went out to this woman lost in the poverty of her miserable situation. They process with her in silence — out of the town, out of the place of the living to the place of the lost, to the place of those taken by sin and the consequences of sin.
Yet, in the midst of hopelessness, in the midst of complete despair, in the midst of the seemingly unchangeable effects of death and disease, the most unlikely of men comes to put his hand on the situation and call all to follow him as he begins a procession only he can lead.
The procession our Lord Christ leads was what the patriarchs of old had put their trust in, what they, in faith, had always looked forward to. This is why Joseph had left instructions concerning his remains, that they would be prepared for the day Christ would lead his people out of Egypt to the Promised Land.
The coming of the procession of our Lord Christ is what Abraham and Isaac and Jacob held on to — in life and in death. This is the revelation announced by Elijah to the widow in Zarephath.
The advent of the Messiah's procession. This was the song of angels before prophets and shepherds outside Bethlehem.
Jesus begins a new procession. He said as much at the beginning of his public ministry before the people of Nazareth when read from the pulpit:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
and recovering of sight to the blind;
To set at liberty those who are oppressed;
To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19 ESV)
Jesus stops a funeral procession in its tracks, and with his touch, with his "gives-everything-it-promises" Word, begins a new procession that leads dead and dying people back, into the land of liberty, the land of the Gospel, the land of God's eternal grace and favor.
This is the witness of the Christian Church until Christ comes again in all power and glory: everything has changed as our Lord Jesus turns around our procession — the march of fallen, sinful, dying people — and makes it his procession.
Jesus' calls out to all who will listen with the ears of faith: follow me. Follow my lead. Follow my way: from Bethlehem to the Jordan, from Nazareth to Nain, to the place of your redemption: to Jerusalem. To the Upper Room to the Mount of Olives. To Calvary.
That day Jesus confronted sin and the deadly consequences of sin. In touching the dead, Jesus proclaimed what we and all believers give witness to: Jesus was sent to lay aside the glories of heaven as he took upon himself our weakness and despair and grief over what we have done and what we have failed to do.
What is our witness as a Christian congregation? Get God to notice you by doing great things for him? Make a difference in the world and then God will bless your efforts? Surrender all and then God will give you everything you want?
Our witness continues to be simply a finger point to God's gift of grace, God's gift of faith, God's saving gift of his Word: his Word made manifest through prophets and apostles, and finally in the person of his very Son.
Who walked our road, who took upon himself our march to the grave, that we would be lead on a procession of life eternal.
Do you believe this morning that you are beyond God's grace and forgiveness? That because of your sin there might be forgiveness and restoration for other but not for you? Do you find yourself dead when it comes to turning your life around and living a holy and acceptable life under the Word of God?
Then look to Christ's procession.
A procession to the his Cross. A procession to the his Font. A procession to his Table. A procession to his unexpected way of salvation. In God-given trust, let Christ lead.
May Christ in his mercy continue his saving work in the places and times he has promised. And may Christ in his grace continue to give us as Christians — and as a Christian congregation — the ability to witness to the reality of the world's dead-end parades, and in the way of the Cross — Jesus' procession of Life. Amen
Thursday, April 01, 2010
A Sermon for Good Friday (Isaiah 53:3-9)
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:
We confess in the Creed the following: "He suffered, died and was buried." And in the Old Testament, Isaiah the prophet confesses these words: "By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgressions of my people? And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth." (Isaiah 53:8-9 ESV)
Some people just can't get themselves through the automatic glass doors of a hospital. They have no problem sending a card or a handful of flowers, but when given the opportunity to spend a few hours at the bedside of a seriously ill friend or relative, they'd rather have a root canal or their pinky chopped off. They just can't bring themselves to make a visit to the bed of those seriously ill. "I just wouldn't know what to say or do." they confess.
Good Friday is a lot like that. There's something in each of us that turns away and walks when we receive the invitation to come near our Savior and Redeemer as he hangs from a tree. A part of us asks, "Can't I just send a card or flowers?"
This evening there are plenty of people outside these walls who considered coming to services tonight. They told themselves, "I know it's Good Friday, and I should attend services to hear God's Word and give thanks for the gift of salvation won upon the cross of Calvary. But who wants to go visit someone on deathwatch? What would I say or do as I again hear about Jesus' agony — his shameful suffering and disgraceful death?
This day the sanctuary, the Scripture readings, the hymns, the pieces of cloth on the altar, everything — right down to the color of the candles — says, "Behold this one sinless, righteous man dying in the most shameful of ways for the sin of the world." And, in response, a part of us can't help but wait and watch, yet another part of us would much rather close our eyes and turn away.
Not only are two-thirds of the world's people today either completely ignorant or completely uninterested in "Good Friday," this day in the church year is observed by fewer and fewer Christians. "I only attend uplifting services." one person remarked, while another once told me in private, "I would come to services Friday but I just don't feel comfortable in asking my boss for time off to celebrate Jesus' death."
Well, obviously Christians and the Christian Church don't "celebrate" Jesus' suffering and death. We "commemorate" Jesus pouring out his life-blood upon the altar of the cross, we "observe" Good Friday, even if we haven't done as much as we could have to receive this day as a holy day — as Holy Friday. Even if we find ourselves unprepared to receive the gifts of this unique day of the Church Year. Even if we find ourselves like the three disciples in the garden:
And they went to a place called Gethsemane. And [Jesus] said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.
And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour?" (Mark 14:32-37 ESV)
Nevertheless, the hour comes. The sacrifice has been chosen. The offering is willing. He has been washed and anointed for his one-of-a-kind mission. All is ready. He now stands at the entrance to heaven's sanctuary as he lays down his life for rebel sheep who love to stray — for rebel sheep who love to sleep — who love to stay away.
For Good Friday is good and holy and blessed, not because of our great attendance and our soul-stirring prayers or hymns during services. Good Friday is good, Holy Friday is holy, this blessed day is blessed on account of our Lord and his faithfulness to redeem a sinful world from its sin by the laying down of his very life. He brings his righteous, perfect life to God's heavenly altar — and we bring our sin, all we have done against God's will and law, all we have failed to do for the glory of God and our neighbor-in-need.
On this day our Lord Jesus completes the work he began at the manger, at the Jordan, in the garden — the work of securing for us the cup of salvation, the cup of forgiveness, the cup of redemption by taking to his lips the cup that had our names upon it — the cup of God's wrath and punishment.
Often we don't know what to do — what to say — when placed before the dying. And often we don't really know how to behave when it comes to Good Friday. Do we follow the world and simply deny it or ignore it or re-interpret it?
God in Christ through the Holy Spirit would sanctify this day as we are brought near the cross of Christ to watch and pray.
To watch and pray as our Lord does it all for us, on our behalf, in our place, just as Isaiah foretold:
He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:3-6)
Today is Good Friday, the darkest day of the church year — and yet, the most illuminating day of the church year — as we see the greatest revelation of God's wrath for sin — and, at the same time, as we see the greatest revelation of God's grace for an undeserving world.
In the hymn, "Were you there?" we are asked if we were there at Jesus' suffering and death upon the cross. And although we are separated from that pivotal event of salvation history by two thousand years ago and another continent, we can, in faith, believe that we were there — our sins were there as Jesus took his last breath to proclaim, "It is finished; it is complete; the debt of an entire rebel world is paid in full — for good."
A blessed Good Friday to each of you.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ:
We confess in the Creed the following: "He suffered, died and was buried." And in the Old Testament, Isaiah the prophet confesses these words: "By oppression and judgment he was taken away. And as for his generation, who considered that he was cut off out of the land of the living, stricken for the transgressions of my people? And they made his grave with the wicked and with a rich man in his death, although he had done no violence, and there was no deceit in his mouth." (Isaiah 53:8-9 ESV)
Some people just can't get themselves through the automatic glass doors of a hospital. They have no problem sending a card or a handful of flowers, but when given the opportunity to spend a few hours at the bedside of a seriously ill friend or relative, they'd rather have a root canal or their pinky chopped off. They just can't bring themselves to make a visit to the bed of those seriously ill. "I just wouldn't know what to say or do." they confess.
Good Friday is a lot like that. There's something in each of us that turns away and walks when we receive the invitation to come near our Savior and Redeemer as he hangs from a tree. A part of us asks, "Can't I just send a card or flowers?"
This evening there are plenty of people outside these walls who considered coming to services tonight. They told themselves, "I know it's Good Friday, and I should attend services to hear God's Word and give thanks for the gift of salvation won upon the cross of Calvary. But who wants to go visit someone on deathwatch? What would I say or do as I again hear about Jesus' agony — his shameful suffering and disgraceful death?
This day the sanctuary, the Scripture readings, the hymns, the pieces of cloth on the altar, everything — right down to the color of the candles — says, "Behold this one sinless, righteous man dying in the most shameful of ways for the sin of the world." And, in response, a part of us can't help but wait and watch, yet another part of us would much rather close our eyes and turn away.
Not only are two-thirds of the world's people today either completely ignorant or completely uninterested in "Good Friday," this day in the church year is observed by fewer and fewer Christians. "I only attend uplifting services." one person remarked, while another once told me in private, "I would come to services Friday but I just don't feel comfortable in asking my boss for time off to celebrate Jesus' death."
Well, obviously Christians and the Christian Church don't "celebrate" Jesus' suffering and death. We "commemorate" Jesus pouring out his life-blood upon the altar of the cross, we "observe" Good Friday, even if we haven't done as much as we could have to receive this day as a holy day — as Holy Friday. Even if we find ourselves unprepared to receive the gifts of this unique day of the Church Year. Even if we find ourselves like the three disciples in the garden:
And they went to a place called Gethsemane. And [Jesus] said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And he said to them, “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch.” And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.
And he said, “Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” And he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour?" (Mark 14:32-37 ESV)
Nevertheless, the hour comes. The sacrifice has been chosen. The offering is willing. He has been washed and anointed for his one-of-a-kind mission. All is ready. He now stands at the entrance to heaven's sanctuary as he lays down his life for rebel sheep who love to stray — for rebel sheep who love to sleep — who love to stay away.
For Good Friday is good and holy and blessed, not because of our great attendance and our soul-stirring prayers or hymns during services. Good Friday is good, Holy Friday is holy, this blessed day is blessed on account of our Lord and his faithfulness to redeem a sinful world from its sin by the laying down of his very life. He brings his righteous, perfect life to God's heavenly altar — and we bring our sin, all we have done against God's will and law, all we have failed to do for the glory of God and our neighbor-in-need.
On this day our Lord Jesus completes the work he began at the manger, at the Jordan, in the garden — the work of securing for us the cup of salvation, the cup of forgiveness, the cup of redemption by taking to his lips the cup that had our names upon it — the cup of God's wrath and punishment.
Often we don't know what to do — what to say — when placed before the dying. And often we don't really know how to behave when it comes to Good Friday. Do we follow the world and simply deny it or ignore it or re-interpret it?
God in Christ through the Holy Spirit would sanctify this day as we are brought near the cross of Christ to watch and pray.
To watch and pray as our Lord does it all for us, on our behalf, in our place, just as Isaiah foretold:
He was despised and rejected by men;
a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;
and as one from whom men hide their faces
he was despised, and we esteemed him not.
Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows;
yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.
But he was wounded for our transgressions;
he was crushed for our iniquities;
upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,
and with his stripes we are healed.
All we like sheep have gone astray;
we have turned—every one—to his own way;
and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:3-6)
Today is Good Friday, the darkest day of the church year — and yet, the most illuminating day of the church year — as we see the greatest revelation of God's wrath for sin — and, at the same time, as we see the greatest revelation of God's grace for an undeserving world.
In the hymn, "Were you there?" we are asked if we were there at Jesus' suffering and death upon the cross. And although we are separated from that pivotal event of salvation history by two thousand years ago and another continent, we can, in faith, believe that we were there — our sins were there as Jesus took his last breath to proclaim, "It is finished; it is complete; the debt of an entire rebel world is paid in full — for good."
A blessed Good Friday to each of you.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Friday, December 25, 2009
Faith that Sings Back - Christmas Day (Psalm 98)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed by Christ, the Word made Flesh:
Sing to the lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things. He has remembered his love and his faithfulness to the house of Israel. [And] all the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music. With trumpets and the blast of the ram's horn. Shout for joy before the Lord, the King. (Psalm 98)
One of the most crushing events anyone can ever experience is being asked by the director, after enthusiastically joining a choir, to only mouth the words while everyone else sings. Imagine being told: "We love having you in our choir — but please don't actually sing any of the words."
It is very unfortunate and it is completely disappointing because it is completely unnatural. Singing with nothing coming out of your mouth. It just shouldn't be because human beings were created to hear and take to heart — and then speak and sing.
That's why the Christian Church has always faithfully passed on the faith to the next generation through the Word of God spoken and preached and shared — and chanted and sung. It wasn't that many years ago when Grandpa would hand on his Bible to his son, and Grandma would hand on her hymnal to her daughter (in addition to both inheriting a well-worn copy of the Small Catechism).
But all of that seems to have changed these days — especially at Christmas. We have allowed those running the show to tell the faithful: "We love having you in the sanctuary — but please don't try to sing your faith — we have a praise band and a professional vocalist for that."
Five hundred years ago there was a reformation that not only put the Bible back into the hands of God's people, but the hymns of the Christian Church as well. By God's grace, Luther realized that faith wants to sing — true Christian faith needs to sing. No wonder one of the annual articles put out on the Reformation information table is titled: "If you sang a hymn in church this Sunday, thank Luther."
To a Church who thought song was the exclusive property of the monks and their choirs, the Reformation had something very definite to say. For faith — true Christian faith — cannot but sing back to God his Word and his Christ and his Font and his Table and his Birth, Death, his Resurrection and Ascension into heaven.
In this sanctuary this morning the Word of God spoken and sung is not the exclusive property of Italian-speaking opera singers or Latin-speaking monks and nuns. The song of Christmas comes from Prophets and Angels and Apostles — to God's people — to change hearts and strengthen faith as it returns back to heaven. Salvation through our ears and through our hearts and minds and then through our mouths back to God and to our neighbor.
That was the way it went in the days of great King David and in the days when shepherds who hadn't taken a music lesson in their life sang to all who would listen on the way back from the manger. (I wouldn't be surprised if, upon their return, the shepherds sang of Emmanuel in the manger even to their sheep.) And this is the way it will be in these last days before our Lord comes back in all power and glory leading heaven's armies upon his war horse to bring a final end to sin and death — to gather all believers in him, that we might sing his praises before his heavenly throne for all eternity.
On this, Christmas Day, true faith wants to listen to the Word of God and then sing — sing to God and sing to anyone else who will listen — about the deep despair of living in sin, cut off from God and from his grace by our rebellious thoughts, words, and deeds — about the poverty of our silly attempts to reconcile ourselves to the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth — about God's own answer to our estrangement and pitiful inability to redeem ourselves or anyone else in the sending of his most precious gift: his only-begotten Son.
On this day, Christmas Day, faith looks to do nothing else but listen to the Word of God — in, with, and through the prophets and apostles, in, with, and through the water of baptism, in, with, and through the bread and wine of the altar — and then, in a trust and joy and confidence that the world knows nothing about — sing back to heaven and earth.
In the manger, God is bringing all things to their fulfillment. He is putting into motion redemption that will bring the Son of God and Mary's Son from the donkeys of Christmas Day to the donkey of Palm Sunday, from the wood and nails of a manger to the wood and nails of a cross, from the cold and dark of a stable cave to the cold and dark of a tomb, that sin would be atoned for, that you might be bought back through the sacrifice of this holy, spotless Lamb of God.
This is the song of the angels. This is the singing faith of the shepherds. This is your song and my song. And we will sing it only as long as we keep our ears close to the Word of God — the Word of God made man.
Speak the Good News. Share the Good News. Sing with the angles and all of creation the Good News of Christmas morn: "Glory to God in the highest, and his saving peace on all upon whom his favor rests."
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed by Christ, the Word made Flesh:
Sing to the lord a new song, for he has done marvelous things. He has remembered his love and his faithfulness to the house of Israel. [And] all the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.
Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music. With trumpets and the blast of the ram's horn. Shout for joy before the Lord, the King. (Psalm 98)
One of the most crushing events anyone can ever experience is being asked by the director, after enthusiastically joining a choir, to only mouth the words while everyone else sings. Imagine being told: "We love having you in our choir — but please don't actually sing any of the words."
It is very unfortunate and it is completely disappointing because it is completely unnatural. Singing with nothing coming out of your mouth. It just shouldn't be because human beings were created to hear and take to heart — and then speak and sing.
That's why the Christian Church has always faithfully passed on the faith to the next generation through the Word of God spoken and preached and shared — and chanted and sung. It wasn't that many years ago when Grandpa would hand on his Bible to his son, and Grandma would hand on her hymnal to her daughter (in addition to both inheriting a well-worn copy of the Small Catechism).
But all of that seems to have changed these days — especially at Christmas. We have allowed those running the show to tell the faithful: "We love having you in the sanctuary — but please don't try to sing your faith — we have a praise band and a professional vocalist for that."
Five hundred years ago there was a reformation that not only put the Bible back into the hands of God's people, but the hymns of the Christian Church as well. By God's grace, Luther realized that faith wants to sing — true Christian faith needs to sing. No wonder one of the annual articles put out on the Reformation information table is titled: "If you sang a hymn in church this Sunday, thank Luther."
To a Church who thought song was the exclusive property of the monks and their choirs, the Reformation had something very definite to say. For faith — true Christian faith — cannot but sing back to God his Word and his Christ and his Font and his Table and his Birth, Death, his Resurrection and Ascension into heaven.
In this sanctuary this morning the Word of God spoken and sung is not the exclusive property of Italian-speaking opera singers or Latin-speaking monks and nuns. The song of Christmas comes from Prophets and Angels and Apostles — to God's people — to change hearts and strengthen faith as it returns back to heaven. Salvation through our ears and through our hearts and minds and then through our mouths back to God and to our neighbor.
That was the way it went in the days of great King David and in the days when shepherds who hadn't taken a music lesson in their life sang to all who would listen on the way back from the manger. (I wouldn't be surprised if, upon their return, the shepherds sang of Emmanuel in the manger even to their sheep.) And this is the way it will be in these last days before our Lord comes back in all power and glory leading heaven's armies upon his war horse to bring a final end to sin and death — to gather all believers in him, that we might sing his praises before his heavenly throne for all eternity.
On this, Christmas Day, true faith wants to listen to the Word of God and then sing — sing to God and sing to anyone else who will listen — about the deep despair of living in sin, cut off from God and from his grace by our rebellious thoughts, words, and deeds — about the poverty of our silly attempts to reconcile ourselves to the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth — about God's own answer to our estrangement and pitiful inability to redeem ourselves or anyone else in the sending of his most precious gift: his only-begotten Son.
On this day, Christmas Day, faith looks to do nothing else but listen to the Word of God — in, with, and through the prophets and apostles, in, with, and through the water of baptism, in, with, and through the bread and wine of the altar — and then, in a trust and joy and confidence that the world knows nothing about — sing back to heaven and earth.
In the manger, God is bringing all things to their fulfillment. He is putting into motion redemption that will bring the Son of God and Mary's Son from the donkeys of Christmas Day to the donkey of Palm Sunday, from the wood and nails of a manger to the wood and nails of a cross, from the cold and dark of a stable cave to the cold and dark of a tomb, that sin would be atoned for, that you might be bought back through the sacrifice of this holy, spotless Lamb of God.
This is the song of the angels. This is the singing faith of the shepherds. This is your song and my song. And we will sing it only as long as we keep our ears close to the Word of God — the Word of God made man.
Speak the Good News. Share the Good News. Sing with the angles and all of creation the Good News of Christmas morn: "Glory to God in the highest, and his saving peace on all upon whom his favor rests."
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Christmas Eve - The Antiphons of Advent - The Desire of Nations
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ:
From the Prophet Isaiah, the 66th chapter:
The Lord declares: “ ... the time is coming to gather all nations and tongues. And they shall come and shall see my glory, and I will set a sign among them." (Isaiah 66:18-19 ESV)
We hear it especially during the Christmas season: words of regret and longing and desire that the entire family would be together — around the tree and around the table. Sometimes it is said in whispers and other times it is shouted from the rooftops: "If only the entire family could be together — at the table and under the tree."
For some of us it will be a difficult Christmas because it will be an unfulfilled Christmas. Someone won't be there to cook the roast or string the popcorn or help put another log on the fire or tell a story or join in song.
In spite of all the shopping, in spite of all the wrappings and fancy sparkling things of Christmas, tonight too many of us here will have a Christmas with a loved one absent.
One example comes from my friend from Cambodia. A refugee of a war-torn nation, his family fled the killing fields. Some relatives were killed, others taken prisoner, still others later rescued from a small boat off the coast. But in that rescue, he was separated from his brothers and sisters and parents. Each individual family member who survived the atrocities of civil war was scattered by the relief agencies to different parts of the world: he was sent to Detroit, Michigan. A brother was sent to Tokyo, Japan. Another, Paris, France. His parents to Southern California. A family persecuted and scattered. A household fragmented and broken.
To come together and rejoice around one table, around one tree: this is the desire of so many people — not only on this day of the year, but on every day of the year.
Do you have a secret desire as you come to the Christmas Table, as you come to the Christmas Tree this year? What do you long for — who do you long for — in the still of this night?
What desire is left unfulfilled after all the glitter and tinsel of the world's spin on Christmas? The desire to be with an absent loved one? The hope-against-hope longing to be reconciled with another who can't be — won't be — with you to enjoy the food and gifts of Christ under his tree?
The great Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" and the ancient antiphons that inspired it, reflect the biblical revelation that is just as true this year as it was thousands of years ago: the world, the nations of the world, peoples and families around the globe come to Christmas with desires that they just cannot fulfill, despite all the legislation from Washington and all the declarations from Stockholm or Copenhagen. Despite all the resolutions by the United Nations, the nations are still — whether they dare to admit it or not — longing for that same peace and fellowship and community and family that we as the human race lost so long ago.
What do you long for — what do you desire — when you find yourself singing the words:
O, come, Desire of nations, bind / In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease, / And be Thyself our King of Peace.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel / Shall come to thee, O Israel!
Some things just can't be bought with a gift card or made right with just a New Years' resolution. Despite all our merry-making, all our attempts to drown-out that dark corner of our heart by just playing the holiday music a little louder or adding more lights to the porch or pouring in a little more peppermint schnapps into the punchbowl — try as we may — the deepest of longings of a fallen humanity are still with us — even on Christmas Eve.
Actually, if we are honest with ourselves — it is especially the light of Christmas Eve that brings to light our darkness, our longings, our unfulfilled desires and fears — as individuals, as families, as neighbors and friends, as citizens of a nation and the world.
You see, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is actually a public confession, a prayer set to music, sung to the Lord of heaven and earth. For when we sing the words of this beautiful Christian hymn, we give witness to the teaching of the Old and New Testament — the revelation that we are a broken, fragmented people who cannot make things around the Christmas Table and things around the Christmas tree like they should be, like they once were, like we wish them to be.
And so we despair of ourselves this Christmas night. We despair of our trying through our busyness and buying and bartering to make it all right, to redeem the darkness and hidden longing that comes with Christmas.
"O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is a great hymn for the Christmas season because it takes our eyes and preoccupations off self and puts them where all true desires are fulfilled: on the One who comes from heaven above, the One who is the true Desire of all families and peoples and nations, the One given the name Emmanuel — God-with-us-to-save.
The hymns of the Christian Church — the liturgy and readings of the Christian Church — announce again this night that there is a world of difference between simply making ourselves merry for a few days around Christmas and receiving, by God's undeserved grace, a blessed Christmas, a lasting Christmas, despite our losses, despite our weaknesses, despite our fallenness and sin and inability to create the Christmas Table and Christmas Tree we know we long for.
For the God-ordained scandal of Christmas Eve is something that flies in the face of everything we would have ever expected: the announcement from a cattle shed that gives that peace and that joy and that family and community that won't break a week later, won't run out of batteries a month from now, won't be traded in for another color or size or re-gifted and placed on the dollar table at a garage sale.
Hear the Word from heaven tonight: Emmanuel has come. The desire of the Nations and the Price of true Peace has come in this lowly, common-enough looking child in the straw of a Bethlehem manger. The savior of wandering shepherds and cynics. The redeemer of those oppressed by their sins and shortcomings. Emmanuel, God-with-us, come to deliver us, even from our fears of bearing the burden of another unfulfilled Christmas — another year of missing family and friends around tree and table.
For the Son of God and Mary's Son has come to do what all our will-power was always unable to do, what all the mistletoe and merry-making could never accomplish, what holiday wishes just couldn't make a lasting reality.
It is this Christ child who has been sent to set the table and decorate the tree. It is the baby Jesus who alone can bring the nations together around tree and table — his Table and his Tree.
For Christ is the true Manna from heaven. It is this one child who is, as Martin Luther use to say, the cook and the waiter and the meal at the true table of reconciliation. He prepares the table — his table, and feeds us with his very body and blood — forgiving sin, strengthening faith and establishing a communion — a holy and eternal communion with God and with each other.
Yes, Christ sets the table and gathers the peoples around it. He fashions the tree and draws the nations around it. For, as by a tree humanity fell into sin, so through a tree redemption for us has been won.
Jesus himself revealed the same when he foretold, "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:32 ESV)
The true desire of all people, all nations, all families broken and scattered by sin has come hidden, wrapped in swaddling linens and laid in a manger.
What is needed to have a jolly Christmas is anyone's guess. But — as baptized Christians — what is necessary for a blessed Christmas? The table of Christ. The tree of Christ. God's gracious invitation. And the Word made flesh for you.
Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ:
From the Prophet Isaiah, the 66th chapter:
The Lord declares: “ ... the time is coming to gather all nations and tongues. And they shall come and shall see my glory, and I will set a sign among them." (Isaiah 66:18-19 ESV)
We hear it especially during the Christmas season: words of regret and longing and desire that the entire family would be together — around the tree and around the table. Sometimes it is said in whispers and other times it is shouted from the rooftops: "If only the entire family could be together — at the table and under the tree."
For some of us it will be a difficult Christmas because it will be an unfulfilled Christmas. Someone won't be there to cook the roast or string the popcorn or help put another log on the fire or tell a story or join in song.
In spite of all the shopping, in spite of all the wrappings and fancy sparkling things of Christmas, tonight too many of us here will have a Christmas with a loved one absent.
One example comes from my friend from Cambodia. A refugee of a war-torn nation, his family fled the killing fields. Some relatives were killed, others taken prisoner, still others later rescued from a small boat off the coast. But in that rescue, he was separated from his brothers and sisters and parents. Each individual family member who survived the atrocities of civil war was scattered by the relief agencies to different parts of the world: he was sent to Detroit, Michigan. A brother was sent to Tokyo, Japan. Another, Paris, France. His parents to Southern California. A family persecuted and scattered. A household fragmented and broken.
To come together and rejoice around one table, around one tree: this is the desire of so many people — not only on this day of the year, but on every day of the year.
Do you have a secret desire as you come to the Christmas Table, as you come to the Christmas Tree this year? What do you long for — who do you long for — in the still of this night?
What desire is left unfulfilled after all the glitter and tinsel of the world's spin on Christmas? The desire to be with an absent loved one? The hope-against-hope longing to be reconciled with another who can't be — won't be — with you to enjoy the food and gifts of Christ under his tree?
The great Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" and the ancient antiphons that inspired it, reflect the biblical revelation that is just as true this year as it was thousands of years ago: the world, the nations of the world, peoples and families around the globe come to Christmas with desires that they just cannot fulfill, despite all the legislation from Washington and all the declarations from Stockholm or Copenhagen. Despite all the resolutions by the United Nations, the nations are still — whether they dare to admit it or not — longing for that same peace and fellowship and community and family that we as the human race lost so long ago.
What do you long for — what do you desire — when you find yourself singing the words:
O, come, Desire of nations, bind / In one the hearts of all mankind;
Bid Thou our sad divisions cease, / And be Thyself our King of Peace.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel / Shall come to thee, O Israel!
Some things just can't be bought with a gift card or made right with just a New Years' resolution. Despite all our merry-making, all our attempts to drown-out that dark corner of our heart by just playing the holiday music a little louder or adding more lights to the porch or pouring in a little more peppermint schnapps into the punchbowl — try as we may — the deepest of longings of a fallen humanity are still with us — even on Christmas Eve.
Actually, if we are honest with ourselves — it is especially the light of Christmas Eve that brings to light our darkness, our longings, our unfulfilled desires and fears — as individuals, as families, as neighbors and friends, as citizens of a nation and the world.
You see, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is actually a public confession, a prayer set to music, sung to the Lord of heaven and earth. For when we sing the words of this beautiful Christian hymn, we give witness to the teaching of the Old and New Testament — the revelation that we are a broken, fragmented people who cannot make things around the Christmas Table and things around the Christmas tree like they should be, like they once were, like we wish them to be.
And so we despair of ourselves this Christmas night. We despair of our trying through our busyness and buying and bartering to make it all right, to redeem the darkness and hidden longing that comes with Christmas.
"O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is a great hymn for the Christmas season because it takes our eyes and preoccupations off self and puts them where all true desires are fulfilled: on the One who comes from heaven above, the One who is the true Desire of all families and peoples and nations, the One given the name Emmanuel — God-with-us-to-save.
The hymns of the Christian Church — the liturgy and readings of the Christian Church — announce again this night that there is a world of difference between simply making ourselves merry for a few days around Christmas and receiving, by God's undeserved grace, a blessed Christmas, a lasting Christmas, despite our losses, despite our weaknesses, despite our fallenness and sin and inability to create the Christmas Table and Christmas Tree we know we long for.
For the God-ordained scandal of Christmas Eve is something that flies in the face of everything we would have ever expected: the announcement from a cattle shed that gives that peace and that joy and that family and community that won't break a week later, won't run out of batteries a month from now, won't be traded in for another color or size or re-gifted and placed on the dollar table at a garage sale.
Hear the Word from heaven tonight: Emmanuel has come. The desire of the Nations and the Price of true Peace has come in this lowly, common-enough looking child in the straw of a Bethlehem manger. The savior of wandering shepherds and cynics. The redeemer of those oppressed by their sins and shortcomings. Emmanuel, God-with-us, come to deliver us, even from our fears of bearing the burden of another unfulfilled Christmas — another year of missing family and friends around tree and table.
For the Son of God and Mary's Son has come to do what all our will-power was always unable to do, what all the mistletoe and merry-making could never accomplish, what holiday wishes just couldn't make a lasting reality.
It is this Christ child who has been sent to set the table and decorate the tree. It is the baby Jesus who alone can bring the nations together around tree and table — his Table and his Tree.
For Christ is the true Manna from heaven. It is this one child who is, as Martin Luther use to say, the cook and the waiter and the meal at the true table of reconciliation. He prepares the table — his table, and feeds us with his very body and blood — forgiving sin, strengthening faith and establishing a communion — a holy and eternal communion with God and with each other.
Yes, Christ sets the table and gathers the peoples around it. He fashions the tree and draws the nations around it. For, as by a tree humanity fell into sin, so through a tree redemption for us has been won.
Jesus himself revealed the same when he foretold, "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.” (John 12:32 ESV)
The true desire of all people, all nations, all families broken and scattered by sin has come hidden, wrapped in swaddling linens and laid in a manger.
What is needed to have a jolly Christmas is anyone's guess. But — as baptized Christians — what is necessary for a blessed Christmas? The table of Christ. The tree of Christ. God's gracious invitation. And the Word made flesh for you.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The "O Antiphons of Advent" - O Key; O Dayspring (Isaiah 9:1-7; Malachi 3:1-7, 16-4:5; Acts 26:1-18)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed by Christ:
O Key of David: Come — and rescue.
O Dayspring, O Morning Star: Come — and enlighten.
The coming of deliverance; the advent of Light. These are the themes sung in the fifth and sixth stanzas of the great Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel." After offering our petition for the advent of Emmanuel, Heaven's Wisdom, Lord of Might and Branch of Jesse's Tree, we call out: "O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
And on what basis can we pray these kinds of prayers set to music? Where do these words come from? How do we in the 21st century find ourselves joining the 4th century author in praying this way, with these words that seem at first glance so strange — so cryptic? And what is our assurance that we can rejoice knowing that our Lord hears our prayer set to music — and responds to it in grace and mercy and goodness?
First and foremost is the clear understanding that any prayer worth praying — spoken or sung — is worth praying only on the basis of it's faithful reflection of the Word first spoken to us and to all who will listen to the inspired Scriptures in faith. The reason "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is one of the greatest Advent hymns is not simply that it is a singable tune that you find yourself whistling on the way home from church. That's part of it, but there are plenty of songs that have a catchy tune that don't get us any closer to heaven's door. (The theme song from Green Acres comes to mind.)
Christian hymns — or hymns that call themselves Christian — are only truly Christian if they clearly, faithfully, beautifully reflect the Word of God — the Word of Holy Scripture and Christ's redemptive center through his substitutionary sacrifice in our place. It's not just a matter of counting how many times the hymn uses the name Jesus. Can a hymn pass the "salvation by grace alone, faith alone, Christ alone" test? Then it is a Christian hymn faithful to the Word of God, and an even better hymn if set to an appropriately beautiful tune.
These two verses we pause to ponder this afternoon continue for generation after generation in the Christian Church because they are drawn from Scripture and present in song the same plea all believers offer up before the Lord of heaven and earth.
We as Christians are called upon to critique and evaluate and judge the hymns we sing, the Christian books we read, the prayers we pray on the basis of this one measuring stick: does this faithfully reflect the Scriptures and the salvation revealed in Christ? Is this borne of the revealed Word of God through the prophets and the apostles, or is it simply a product of our own fallen human imagination — the way we think salvation should work, the way I think Christ should operate in my life? God help us always to discern the wheat from the chaff when it comes to what we pray and what we study and what we sing.
And so, directed by the revealed Word of God, we join the voice of the prophets and apostles as we look to our Lord Christ and pray in these days before Christmas: "O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
It is the babe born in Bethlehem that is our Sun of Righteousness, who comes in grace and mercy and forgiveness with (as the prophet Malachi foretells) healing in his wings — redemption that forever closes the door on our estrangement from God and opens the door only the Christ can open: the gates of an eternal heaven with our Lord and with our loved ones: those who have gone before us clothed in Christ's righteousness — and those who will follow us — the faithful in our households, and the faithful in the household of faith baptized into Jesus' birth and death, his cross and resurrection, his ascension into heaven.
For you see, from the earliest times of the Christian Church — from the time of the apostles — being enlightened by the redeeming rays of Christ and his righteousness was the language of Holy Baptism. Being enlightened had nothing to do with sitting under a tree and contemplating selfish desire or suddenly understanding the wisdom of the world while eating magic mushrooms.
Under the Word of Christ and his messengers, being enlightened is all about Christ coming — Christ's advent — in, with and through the water of the font to bring to light our desperate need to be forgiven, and God's saving work of providing the free gift of redemption through the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son.
And so we sing: "O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
This is the purpose for which the prophets and apostles were sent out into the world: to serve Christ by witnessing to him and his coming to save through his Word and water and bread and wine.
For the commission of our Lord to the apostle Paul is the commission to the Christian Church in our day: "I am sending you," Jesus says, "to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me." (Acts 26:18 ESV)
Who is properly prepared to receive the Christ child on Christmas Day? Those who can stand before Christ and his Church and confess: I am in bondage and cannot free myself. I am spiritually helpless and a prisoner of a dungeon of my own making. I am chained to my fallen-ness and sin. My rescue lies in the One God himself has appointed to open and to shut. The One who holds the Key and Scepter of Redemption. Who opens and no one can shut. Who shuts and no one can open. Who has won salvation and gifts it to all who will receive it in true faith.
"O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
We join the prophets and apostles and pray to our Lord: "Come and rescue us; come and enlighten us with your Word." For, as the psalmist has written:
Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD!
O Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!
If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the LORD!
For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption.
And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities. (Psalm 130:1-8 ESV)
God continue to bless our Adventide in Christ the Key, in Christ the Morning Star. Amen
Dear Redeemed by Christ:
O Key of David: Come — and rescue.
O Dayspring, O Morning Star: Come — and enlighten.
The coming of deliverance; the advent of Light. These are the themes sung in the fifth and sixth stanzas of the great Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel." After offering our petition for the advent of Emmanuel, Heaven's Wisdom, Lord of Might and Branch of Jesse's Tree, we call out: "O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
And on what basis can we pray these kinds of prayers set to music? Where do these words come from? How do we in the 21st century find ourselves joining the 4th century author in praying this way, with these words that seem at first glance so strange — so cryptic? And what is our assurance that we can rejoice knowing that our Lord hears our prayer set to music — and responds to it in grace and mercy and goodness?
First and foremost is the clear understanding that any prayer worth praying — spoken or sung — is worth praying only on the basis of it's faithful reflection of the Word first spoken to us and to all who will listen to the inspired Scriptures in faith. The reason "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" is one of the greatest Advent hymns is not simply that it is a singable tune that you find yourself whistling on the way home from church. That's part of it, but there are plenty of songs that have a catchy tune that don't get us any closer to heaven's door. (The theme song from Green Acres comes to mind.)
Christian hymns — or hymns that call themselves Christian — are only truly Christian if they clearly, faithfully, beautifully reflect the Word of God — the Word of Holy Scripture and Christ's redemptive center through his substitutionary sacrifice in our place. It's not just a matter of counting how many times the hymn uses the name Jesus. Can a hymn pass the "salvation by grace alone, faith alone, Christ alone" test? Then it is a Christian hymn faithful to the Word of God, and an even better hymn if set to an appropriately beautiful tune.
These two verses we pause to ponder this afternoon continue for generation after generation in the Christian Church because they are drawn from Scripture and present in song the same plea all believers offer up before the Lord of heaven and earth.
We as Christians are called upon to critique and evaluate and judge the hymns we sing, the Christian books we read, the prayers we pray on the basis of this one measuring stick: does this faithfully reflect the Scriptures and the salvation revealed in Christ? Is this borne of the revealed Word of God through the prophets and the apostles, or is it simply a product of our own fallen human imagination — the way we think salvation should work, the way I think Christ should operate in my life? God help us always to discern the wheat from the chaff when it comes to what we pray and what we study and what we sing.
And so, directed by the revealed Word of God, we join the voice of the prophets and apostles as we look to our Lord Christ and pray in these days before Christmas: "O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
It is the babe born in Bethlehem that is our Sun of Righteousness, who comes in grace and mercy and forgiveness with (as the prophet Malachi foretells) healing in his wings — redemption that forever closes the door on our estrangement from God and opens the door only the Christ can open: the gates of an eternal heaven with our Lord and with our loved ones: those who have gone before us clothed in Christ's righteousness — and those who will follow us — the faithful in our households, and the faithful in the household of faith baptized into Jesus' birth and death, his cross and resurrection, his ascension into heaven.
For you see, from the earliest times of the Christian Church — from the time of the apostles — being enlightened by the redeeming rays of Christ and his righteousness was the language of Holy Baptism. Being enlightened had nothing to do with sitting under a tree and contemplating selfish desire or suddenly understanding the wisdom of the world while eating magic mushrooms.
Under the Word of Christ and his messengers, being enlightened is all about Christ coming — Christ's advent — in, with and through the water of the font to bring to light our desperate need to be forgiven, and God's saving work of providing the free gift of redemption through the once-for-all sacrifice of his Son.
And so we sing: "O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
This is the purpose for which the prophets and apostles were sent out into the world: to serve Christ by witnessing to him and his coming to save through his Word and water and bread and wine.
For the commission of our Lord to the apostle Paul is the commission to the Christian Church in our day: "I am sending you," Jesus says, "to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me." (Acts 26:18 ESV)
Who is properly prepared to receive the Christ child on Christmas Day? Those who can stand before Christ and his Church and confess: I am in bondage and cannot free myself. I am spiritually helpless and a prisoner of a dungeon of my own making. I am chained to my fallen-ness and sin. My rescue lies in the One God himself has appointed to open and to shut. The One who holds the Key and Scepter of Redemption. Who opens and no one can shut. Who shuts and no one can open. Who has won salvation and gifts it to all who will receive it in true faith.
"O come, Thou Key of David and do your saving work of opening and closing." "O come, Thou Dayspring from on high and do your redeeming work of driving away the darkness of death."
We join the prophets and apostles and pray to our Lord: "Come and rescue us; come and enlighten us with your Word." For, as the psalmist has written:
Out of the depths I cry to you, O LORD!
O Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas for mercy!
If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared.
I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the LORD!
For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption.
And he will redeem Israel from all his iniquities. (Psalm 130:1-8 ESV)
God continue to bless our Adventide in Christ the Key, in Christ the Morning Star. Amen
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Son of David Greater than David? The 'O Antiphons' of Advent
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ:
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Matthew, the 22nd Chapter:
Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them a question, saying, “What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is he?” They said to him, “The son of David.” He said to them, “How is it then that David, in the Spirit, calls him Lord, saying, “‘The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under your feet’? If then David calls him Lord, how is he his son?” And no one was able to answer him a word, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions. (Matthew 22:41-46 ESV)
Lord. Son of David. How do the two go together? Can the two go together? And what difference does it make for us in these days before Christmas?
Our Advent Canticle, O, Come, O, Come, Emmanuel puts the two titles together as it assigns both to Jesus — as it assigns both to Jesus, even at his birth. Lord and Son of David. Son of David and Lord.
Now just pause and consider anew how unbelievably silly that all sounds at first. This child? This man? This son of a lowly maiden and a blue-collar carpenter? Born in a forsaken place on the outskirts of a forsaken town? This child? This child king who's court consists of donkeys and horses and cows and the sheep of flee-bitten shepherds? Is this the best the house of David can do?
No wonder this question of Jesus to the unbelieving religious leaders shut down the entire conversation and left those who would not believe that Jesus could be greater than great King David fuming.
The Jesus of the Gospels and the Jesus of Christmas Day is accepted by the world and our old, worldly nature, just as long as he remains simply a babe in the straw of a manger or just another prophet or just another nice guy with nice intentions.
But watch out. When Jesus claims to be greater than the great Moses or greater than the Ten Commandments he revealed or greater than King David or greater than King David's City, sparks begin to fly. "Who are you, son of Joseph the carpenter of Nazareth, claiming to be greater than Moses and David? How dare you compare yourself to the great Patriarchs of our faith! How irreverent. How insulting. It's blasphemy!"
When Jesus reveals himself as greater than the great King David, greater than the Law of God and the Law-giver of God, there is nothing more to discuss. That was true in Jesus' day and it is true today.
Everyone (well, almost everyone) doesn't mind a Christmas card with some sheep and shepherds and Mary and Joseph and a little baby in a manger. It looks kind of cute and nostalgic and just a little pitiful.
But we confess something impossible for the world to acknowledge, something part of us has a real problem with: Jesus born Lord of Moses and Lord of David. This little baby Jesus - born King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Son of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, greater than Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Son of David, greater than David.
No one could be asked to believe that could they? The greatest of the great, born in poverty, born after his parents hear that there was no room in the inn for the Son of David who was greater than David himself?
The hymns of Advent are not for our own entertainment or personal amusement. They are to call forth Christian faith in Jesus as Lord and Son of David and sustain it in a world that will give lip service to Christmas Day but just can't believe that the babe of the manger is the Creator of Heaven and Earth and the one Redeemer of all of humanity.
The world would sing:
"O, Come, O Come, Thou Sage of Wisdom, Thou Spiritual Mentor, Thou Great Humanitarian and Friend of the Poor and Downtrodden."
But the world will never put it's faith in Jesus as Emmanuel, God-with-Us-in-Human-Flesh. Our fallen nature will never put all the chips on Jesus as the one Redeemer, the one God-ordained medicine for sin-sick souls, the one heaven-chosen sacrificial substitute for Abraham, and Isaac and Jacob and Jesse — and even Jesse's son, great King David himself.
Each of us is called to confess Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Who, through his death and resurrection fulfilled the Law given through the great prophet Moses on Sinai's height. Who through his death and resurrection graciously gave us victory over sin, death and the devil.
For, you see, Jesus is not only the branch that springs forth from the tree of Jesse, David's father. Jesus is the root of the tree that is all children of the promise given to our first parents as they wept at the revelation of what they had lost in their disobedience and doubt and rebellion — as they wept at the revelation of what would be won back despite their disobedience and doubt and rebellion — by the Son of God and Eve's Son: the Messiah-to-come.
The Son of David greater than David? Most could not believe it — would not believe it.
But a remnant put all their hopes on this Jesus, this son of Jesse's tree who claimed to be the Word of God — the Law of God — in flesh and blood.
People like the two blind men in Matthew, chapter 9. People like the Canaanite woman in Matthew, chapter 15. People like the two blind men in Matthew, chapter 20:
And behold, there were two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” The crowd rebuked them, telling them to be silent, but they cried out all the more, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” And stopping, Jesus called them and said, “What do you want me to do for you?” They said to him, “Lord, let our eyes be opened.” And Jesus in pity touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and followed him. (Matthew 20:30-34 ESV)
Only those who abandoned the logic and wisdom of the world, only those who received the unbelievable Word of God in faith looked to Jesus as David's greater Son. Only those who will say, "Amen" to heaven's shocking way of salvation can truly sing on Christmas Eve, "Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me." "Son of David, Kyrie, eleison!"
Advent is a season of preparation — not for those who have finished sending out all their cards and completed all their Christmas shopping — but for those who are, as the Small Catechism teaches us, spiritually blind, dead and enemies of God.
For it is this babe of Bethlehem, the ancestral home of David, that comes — comes in the waters of holy Baptism to have compassion on you, to wash you clean and open your eyes, that you might follow him in faith.
A shoot will sprout from Jesse's stem, / A branch from David's line,
A Price of Peace in Bethlehem: / The fruit of God's design.
("What Hope! An Eden Prophesied" LSB 342:2)
Come, my Lord and Savior. Come, thou Branch and Root of Jesse's Tree. Come, and save with your might hidden in your mercy, your glory covered by your grace, your power serving your pity on your helpless, wandering people. Come — and save.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ:
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Matthew, the 22nd Chapter:
Now while the Pharisees were gathered together, Jesus asked them a question, saying, “What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is he?” They said to him, “The son of David.” He said to them, “How is it then that David, in the Spirit, calls him Lord, saying, “‘The Lord said to my Lord, Sit at my right hand, until I put your enemies under your feet’? If then David calls him Lord, how is he his son?” And no one was able to answer him a word, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions. (Matthew 22:41-46 ESV)
Lord. Son of David. How do the two go together? Can the two go together? And what difference does it make for us in these days before Christmas?
Our Advent Canticle, O, Come, O, Come, Emmanuel puts the two titles together as it assigns both to Jesus — as it assigns both to Jesus, even at his birth. Lord and Son of David. Son of David and Lord.
Now just pause and consider anew how unbelievably silly that all sounds at first. This child? This man? This son of a lowly maiden and a blue-collar carpenter? Born in a forsaken place on the outskirts of a forsaken town? This child? This child king who's court consists of donkeys and horses and cows and the sheep of flee-bitten shepherds? Is this the best the house of David can do?
No wonder this question of Jesus to the unbelieving religious leaders shut down the entire conversation and left those who would not believe that Jesus could be greater than great King David fuming.
The Jesus of the Gospels and the Jesus of Christmas Day is accepted by the world and our old, worldly nature, just as long as he remains simply a babe in the straw of a manger or just another prophet or just another nice guy with nice intentions.
But watch out. When Jesus claims to be greater than the great Moses or greater than the Ten Commandments he revealed or greater than King David or greater than King David's City, sparks begin to fly. "Who are you, son of Joseph the carpenter of Nazareth, claiming to be greater than Moses and David? How dare you compare yourself to the great Patriarchs of our faith! How irreverent. How insulting. It's blasphemy!"
When Jesus reveals himself as greater than the great King David, greater than the Law of God and the Law-giver of God, there is nothing more to discuss. That was true in Jesus' day and it is true today.
Everyone (well, almost everyone) doesn't mind a Christmas card with some sheep and shepherds and Mary and Joseph and a little baby in a manger. It looks kind of cute and nostalgic and just a little pitiful.
But we confess something impossible for the world to acknowledge, something part of us has a real problem with: Jesus born Lord of Moses and Lord of David. This little baby Jesus - born King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Son of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, greater than Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Son of David, greater than David.
No one could be asked to believe that could they? The greatest of the great, born in poverty, born after his parents hear that there was no room in the inn for the Son of David who was greater than David himself?
The hymns of Advent are not for our own entertainment or personal amusement. They are to call forth Christian faith in Jesus as Lord and Son of David and sustain it in a world that will give lip service to Christmas Day but just can't believe that the babe of the manger is the Creator of Heaven and Earth and the one Redeemer of all of humanity.
The world would sing:
"O, Come, O Come, Thou Sage of Wisdom, Thou Spiritual Mentor, Thou Great Humanitarian and Friend of the Poor and Downtrodden."
But the world will never put it's faith in Jesus as Emmanuel, God-with-Us-in-Human-Flesh. Our fallen nature will never put all the chips on Jesus as the one Redeemer, the one God-ordained medicine for sin-sick souls, the one heaven-chosen sacrificial substitute for Abraham, and Isaac and Jacob and Jesse — and even Jesse's son, great King David himself.
Each of us is called to confess Jesus as King of Kings and Lord of Lords. Who, through his death and resurrection fulfilled the Law given through the great prophet Moses on Sinai's height. Who through his death and resurrection graciously gave us victory over sin, death and the devil.
For, you see, Jesus is not only the branch that springs forth from the tree of Jesse, David's father. Jesus is the root of the tree that is all children of the promise given to our first parents as they wept at the revelation of what they had lost in their disobedience and doubt and rebellion — as they wept at the revelation of what would be won back despite their disobedience and doubt and rebellion — by the Son of God and Eve's Son: the Messiah-to-come.
The Son of David greater than David? Most could not believe it — would not believe it.
But a remnant put all their hopes on this Jesus, this son of Jesse's tree who claimed to be the Word of God — the Law of God — in flesh and blood.
People like the two blind men in Matthew, chapter 9. People like the Canaanite woman in Matthew, chapter 15. People like the two blind men in Matthew, chapter 20:
And behold, there were two blind men sitting by the roadside, and when they heard that Jesus was passing by, they cried out, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” The crowd rebuked them, telling them to be silent, but they cried out all the more, “Lord, have mercy on us, Son of David!” And stopping, Jesus called them and said, “What do you want me to do for you?” They said to him, “Lord, let our eyes be opened.” And Jesus in pity touched their eyes, and immediately they recovered their sight and followed him. (Matthew 20:30-34 ESV)
Only those who abandoned the logic and wisdom of the world, only those who received the unbelievable Word of God in faith looked to Jesus as David's greater Son. Only those who will say, "Amen" to heaven's shocking way of salvation can truly sing on Christmas Eve, "Lord, Son of David, have mercy on me." "Son of David, Kyrie, eleison!"
Advent is a season of preparation — not for those who have finished sending out all their cards and completed all their Christmas shopping — but for those who are, as the Small Catechism teaches us, spiritually blind, dead and enemies of God.
For it is this babe of Bethlehem, the ancestral home of David, that comes — comes in the waters of holy Baptism to have compassion on you, to wash you clean and open your eyes, that you might follow him in faith.
A shoot will sprout from Jesse's stem, / A branch from David's line,
A Price of Peace in Bethlehem: / The fruit of God's design.
("What Hope! An Eden Prophesied" LSB 342:2)
Come, my Lord and Savior. Come, thou Branch and Root of Jesse's Tree. Come, and save with your might hidden in your mercy, your glory covered by your grace, your power serving your pity on your helpless, wandering people. Come — and save.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
O Come, Emmanuel; O Come, Thou Wisdom from on High (An Advent Sermon)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed by the Wisdom of God Come in Human Flesh:
Scripture reminds us of the demands made upon God by our rebel world and its inhabitants. "Prove yourself to us and then we will believe in you. Come and show your glory to us and then we will give you our worship and praise. Come and explain yourself to us, show us your wisdom and power and glory, and then we will acknowledge you as God."
That has been the demand set before the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth since the beginning - since the fall into sin by our first wayward parents, Adam and Eve. They demanded an explanation. They desired the wisdom that was with God the Father from before the beginning. But what did they receive on account of their rebellion and doubt and unbelief? A twisted wisdom, a corrupt understanding, a self-centered and sin-stained view of their God, themselves, and the kind of redemption God would set into motion to save the two of them and their children.
For you see God needs to come and save us his way — in a way unknown to the wisdom of the world. In a way unknown to the wisdom of our fallen nature that thinks everything is resolved through the use of human cunning and power and might. It's just like my best friend use to say when he was working on the assembly line in a Chrysler plant: "If it doesn't fit - get a bigger hammer."
That was the way of murderous Cain and inheritance-stealing Jacob. That was the way of those who began to build the Tower of Babel. That was the way of Judas the betrayer. That has been the way of the world and the world's religions. And that is what is being pedaled by today's evangelists of the world's wisdom: turn you life around and take heaven by storm through your great promises and intentions and positive thoughts and good energy. Create your own positive future. Create your own blessed life. Create your own great relationship with God and everyone in your life by creating a new life for yourself.
And our old nature instinctively follows, thinking, "That makes perfect sense. I will create my own redemption through my dedication and decision and determination to make things right between me and my God."
But what do we read in Scripture with the eyes of God-given faith in his Word and Wisdom? Heaven had a very different plan — a plan that was completely outside the box of the world's wisdom, completely foolish and crazy and senseless. A plan that would make mouths drop in speechless awe and amazement. God securing salvation for helpless sinners who put their hope in God's form of wisdom.
God himself would establish salvation for his rebel people. God himself would set up redemption and secure heaven for those who continued to foolishly think they could straighten the whole mess out themselves if just given another chance. And God would do it in a way hidden from the wisdom and logic of the world. God would shatter all human reason by sending forth his very Word to make satisfaction for all sin.
Inspired by the Holy Spirit, Saint Paul writes to the Church in Corinth:
For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”
Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. (1Corinthians 1:18-25 ESV)
This week the season of preparation begins, four weeks that calls to us and the world to listen to the Word and Wisdom of God himself. To close our mouths and in silence wait for heaven's own unexpected sign, heaven's own unexpected wisdom in making sense out of what has become a meaningless world of toil and sweat and heartache and despair and death.
In this too-often neglected season of Advent, heaven's wisdom calls out to all who will listen in faith, to all who mourn over their sin, to all who will acknowledge that we are in spiritual exile by what we have inherited from our first parents — and from the sin we have done and the good we have failed to do. Especially the sin of putting our trust in salvation done the world's way - independent of God's Word through the prophets and apostles, independent of God's Word through water, independent of God's Word through bread and wine.
Wisdom calls out, but in a way we would have never guessed, never have imagined in a thousand years. For, when it comes to our salvation, heaven's wisdom cries out — from a lowly manger in a lowly cattle stall in a lowly village, the son of the lowliest of maidens, the son of a lowly carpenter. All to establish God's redemption. All to win his ransomed people. All to shame the wisdom of the world. All to shame what makes perfect sense to us and to those who continue to believe if they just figure everything out, then they will win reconciliation before God and their estranged neighbor on their own terms.
God sent his wisdom to shame the world's wisdom, that we would despair of our own deluded ideas about how we think redemption should work, and embrace the wisdom of God — the wisdom of God that comes not as a coded inscription on an Egyptian pyramid, not as a mysterious date on a Mayan calendar, not as a magic formula re-discovered at Stonehenge, not as the world's practical advise on how to truly find God by truly finding yourself.
What does God declare to that part of each of us that thinks we can figure it all out and discover for ourselves the wisdom that will save our souls and give meaning to the rest of our lives?
... let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:7-11 ESV)
It is the high-soaring Gospel of Saint John that announces to all who will listen with the ears of faith that the Word of God has come in human flesh to redeem human flesh by the once-for-all sacrifice of the Cross.
And it is the antiphons of Advent that proclaim that it is this wisdom from the mouth of God that gives divine order and knowledge of salvation to those who will confess with repentant hearts, "Unless I am taught by the Wisdom of God made flesh and blood, I will perish. Unless I am known by my Redeemer, and connected to his substitutionary death and resurrection, I am an eternal exile of the kingdom of heaven. Unless God sends his dear, only-begotten Son to save, I will die in my sin and foolishness."
The season of Advent would have us prepared for Christmas by the very Word of God, the very Wisdom of God, the very Son of God and Mary's Son, even Christ Jesus our Lord.
The wisdom of God made man — to shatter the foolishness of a world that can only conform Christ's birth to it's own fallen version of power and wisdom and glory and might.
The great Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," and the Advent antiphons that shaped it, call on the faithful to measure our Christmas preparations by the litmus test of God's unexpected wisdom. The wisdom that unites the wood and nails of the manger with the wood and nails of the cross; the wisdom that unites beasts of burden in a Bethlehem cave with those burdened with the load of their sin and shame; the wisdom that will only receive Christmas Day through the lens of Good Friday and Jesus' work on Calvary.
The lowly Son of the virgin Mary sent as the wisdom of God and the sign of God only heaven's gift of faith will see and receive.
O Come, O come, Emmanuel.
O Come, O Come, Thou Wisdom from on High.
Come and do your saving work of revealing and ransoming the clueless, we who would always get it wrong if left to our own fallen intuition and heart and pride. Come and conform Christmas to the image of your incarnate Son — and to the image of his Cross.
In repentant joy, may God through his Word and promise, ever prepare us for his unexpected coming to save.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Redeemed by the Wisdom of God Come in Human Flesh:
Scripture reminds us of the demands made upon God by our rebel world and its inhabitants. "Prove yourself to us and then we will believe in you. Come and show your glory to us and then we will give you our worship and praise. Come and explain yourself to us, show us your wisdom and power and glory, and then we will acknowledge you as God."
That has been the demand set before the Almighty Creator of heaven and earth since the beginning - since the fall into sin by our first wayward parents, Adam and Eve. They demanded an explanation. They desired the wisdom that was with God the Father from before the beginning. But what did they receive on account of their rebellion and doubt and unbelief? A twisted wisdom, a corrupt understanding, a self-centered and sin-stained view of their God, themselves, and the kind of redemption God would set into motion to save the two of them and their children.
For you see God needs to come and save us his way — in a way unknown to the wisdom of the world. In a way unknown to the wisdom of our fallen nature that thinks everything is resolved through the use of human cunning and power and might. It's just like my best friend use to say when he was working on the assembly line in a Chrysler plant: "If it doesn't fit - get a bigger hammer."
That was the way of murderous Cain and inheritance-stealing Jacob. That was the way of those who began to build the Tower of Babel. That was the way of Judas the betrayer. That has been the way of the world and the world's religions. And that is what is being pedaled by today's evangelists of the world's wisdom: turn you life around and take heaven by storm through your great promises and intentions and positive thoughts and good energy. Create your own positive future. Create your own blessed life. Create your own great relationship with God and everyone in your life by creating a new life for yourself.
And our old nature instinctively follows, thinking, "That makes perfect sense. I will create my own redemption through my dedication and decision and determination to make things right between me and my God."
But what do we read in Scripture with the eyes of God-given faith in his Word and Wisdom? Heaven had a very different plan — a plan that was completely outside the box of the world's wisdom, completely foolish and crazy and senseless. A plan that would make mouths drop in speechless awe and amazement. God securing salvation for helpless sinners who put their hope in God's form of wisdom.
God himself would establish salvation for his rebel people. God himself would set up redemption and secure heaven for those who continued to foolishly think they could straighten the whole mess out themselves if just given another chance. And God would do it in a way hidden from the wisdom and logic of the world. God would shatter all human reason by sending forth his very Word to make satisfaction for all sin.
Inspired by the Holy Spirit, Saint Paul writes to the Church in Corinth:
For the word of the cross is folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. For it is written, “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the discernment of the discerning I will thwart.”
Where is the one who is wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the debater of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of the world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world did not know God through wisdom, it pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe. For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. (1Corinthians 1:18-25 ESV)
This week the season of preparation begins, four weeks that calls to us and the world to listen to the Word and Wisdom of God himself. To close our mouths and in silence wait for heaven's own unexpected sign, heaven's own unexpected wisdom in making sense out of what has become a meaningless world of toil and sweat and heartache and despair and death.
In this too-often neglected season of Advent, heaven's wisdom calls out to all who will listen in faith, to all who mourn over their sin, to all who will acknowledge that we are in spiritual exile by what we have inherited from our first parents — and from the sin we have done and the good we have failed to do. Especially the sin of putting our trust in salvation done the world's way - independent of God's Word through the prophets and apostles, independent of God's Word through water, independent of God's Word through bread and wine.
Wisdom calls out, but in a way we would have never guessed, never have imagined in a thousand years. For, when it comes to our salvation, heaven's wisdom cries out — from a lowly manger in a lowly cattle stall in a lowly village, the son of the lowliest of maidens, the son of a lowly carpenter. All to establish God's redemption. All to win his ransomed people. All to shame the wisdom of the world. All to shame what makes perfect sense to us and to those who continue to believe if they just figure everything out, then they will win reconciliation before God and their estranged neighbor on their own terms.
God sent his wisdom to shame the world's wisdom, that we would despair of our own deluded ideas about how we think redemption should work, and embrace the wisdom of God — the wisdom of God that comes not as a coded inscription on an Egyptian pyramid, not as a mysterious date on a Mayan calendar, not as a magic formula re-discovered at Stonehenge, not as the world's practical advise on how to truly find God by truly finding yourself.
What does God declare to that part of each of us that thinks we can figure it all out and discover for ourselves the wisdom that will save our souls and give meaning to the rest of our lives?
... let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; let him return to the LORD, that he may have compassion on him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.
“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the LORD.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.
“For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there but water the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55:7-11 ESV)
It is the high-soaring Gospel of Saint John that announces to all who will listen with the ears of faith that the Word of God has come in human flesh to redeem human flesh by the once-for-all sacrifice of the Cross.
And it is the antiphons of Advent that proclaim that it is this wisdom from the mouth of God that gives divine order and knowledge of salvation to those who will confess with repentant hearts, "Unless I am taught by the Wisdom of God made flesh and blood, I will perish. Unless I am known by my Redeemer, and connected to his substitutionary death and resurrection, I am an eternal exile of the kingdom of heaven. Unless God sends his dear, only-begotten Son to save, I will die in my sin and foolishness."
The season of Advent would have us prepared for Christmas by the very Word of God, the very Wisdom of God, the very Son of God and Mary's Son, even Christ Jesus our Lord.
The wisdom of God made man — to shatter the foolishness of a world that can only conform Christ's birth to it's own fallen version of power and wisdom and glory and might.
The great Advent hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel," and the Advent antiphons that shaped it, call on the faithful to measure our Christmas preparations by the litmus test of God's unexpected wisdom. The wisdom that unites the wood and nails of the manger with the wood and nails of the cross; the wisdom that unites beasts of burden in a Bethlehem cave with those burdened with the load of their sin and shame; the wisdom that will only receive Christmas Day through the lens of Good Friday and Jesus' work on Calvary.
The lowly Son of the virgin Mary sent as the wisdom of God and the sign of God only heaven's gift of faith will see and receive.
O Come, O come, Emmanuel.
O Come, O Come, Thou Wisdom from on High.
Come and do your saving work of revealing and ransoming the clueless, we who would always get it wrong if left to our own fallen intuition and heart and pride. Come and conform Christmas to the image of your incarnate Son — and to the image of his Cross.
In repentant joy, may God through his Word and promise, ever prepare us for his unexpected coming to save.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Mercy and Thankful Hearts - even for Samaritans. (Luke 17:11-19)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ our merciful Master:
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the 17th chapter:
On the way to Jerusalem [Jesus] was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. (Luke 17:11-14 ESV)
I have finally come up with a plan to write a book and make so much money from sales that I can retire when I'm fifty-two. I know it will be a best-seller because it is exactly what the world — and our old, worldly nature — thinks it needs to have a truly thankful and joyous and happy and fulfilled and blessed life. I already know what the front cover will look like: a photograph of me in a nice suit with a few big gold rings and a Rolex and a big smile (and a little more hair on the top of my head). And the title of the book in big letters: "Thirty Days to a Thankful Life."
Inside the book will be thirty chapters detailing thirty steps that, if done in just the right way, will promise the truly blessed life. The truly happy and successful life. The truly thankful life that everyone wants but no one, seemingly, can achieve — until now. Until my proven 30 step program to the truly thankful life.
The great thing about selling my book on "thirty days to the thankful life" is that the world — and our old, worldly nature — is already selling this formula in its advertisements and movies and novels and poems and television specials.
The 30 days between Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Eve is the perfect time to get regularly hit over the head with the judgment that we have been — again — for another year — found as poor, miserable failures when it comes to being the always thankful people we should be.
This is the reason Hollywood stars come out once a year to dish out turkey to homeless people. This is the reason we are entertained by special presentations of the Grinch and Dickens' A Christmas Carol. This is the reason for the insanity of these thirty days between November 26th and December 24th: the world — and our old, worldly nature — have fallen for the temptation to stake everything on the belief that we can make satisfaction for our shame and guilt and become truly thankful people by promising more, entertaining more, doing more, and buying more.
And unfortunately, much of what calls itself Christian today promotes the same dead-end belief: changing the fallen human heart by fallen human will power.
It's interesting that when first-time visitors come to worship services here at Redeemer and are asked, "Did you feel comfortable with the service this morning?" the answer is more often than not: "Everything was nice — except for that beginning part. You know, that part where we have to say that we are poor, miserable sinners. Do you guys actually say that every Sunday?"
The crazy thing about disdain for the confession of sins is the fact that those same people join the world these thirty days between Thanksgiving and Christmas and secretly confess a very similar thing — that:
"I have failed to be truly thankful by what I have done and by what I have left undone. I have done unthankful things. I have (at least on occasion) found myself stingy or greedy or selfish — maybe even grumbling about things I shouldn't really be grumbling about."
"I have failed to be truly thankful by what I have failed to do. I have not cheerfully given as much as I should to my parents, my spouse, my children, my grandchildren and the rest of my family. I haven't been happy in sharing my things with others — especially those in need. I haven't shown thankful behavior to those God has placed in my life. I haven't always said, "Thank you" when others give me things. I failed to write a note or make a call or stop and show appreciation for the simple blessings God continues to give through my neighbor: my family, my co-workers, my congregation, the leaders in my community."
But although we as believers in Christ and the world make similar confessions, Scripture reveals that our condition is much more desperate than what the world would ever imagine. Our un-thankfulness can't be corrected with a simple swipe of the credit card or our pledge to do better next time around.
Plenty of people after eating too much turkey and gravy will look back on Thanksgiving Day and convince themselves that things went better than expected. Uncle Henry didn't walk away from the table after arguing about the difference between the teachings of the Lutheran Church and the Church of Scientology. The kids didn't scream about which Black Friday sale to camp out in front of. Everyone was polite. Some even said "thank you" for hosting the dinner or bringing the dessert. Bobby even helped with the dishes.
But is that the core and center of what makes people truly thankful people living out truly thankful lives?
Contrary to what some parents confess when I ask them why they chose Redeemer Lutheran as the place to enroll their preschooler, Jesus has not come to merely make our behavior look more "Christian." (Actually, if you want the best "Christian"-looking behavior, you might be better off to go to your Hindu or Mormon neighbor.)
All ten lepers in today's Gospel reading were thankful and obedient. They did just what Jesus had told them to do. They went to show themselves to the priest and, when pronounced "clean," they made the required sacrifices at the temple according to the law of Moses.
All ten decided to do the proper and polite thing and plead for help and mercy and healing without approaching Jesus and risk getting him infected with the disease they were suffering under. There were probably more than a few in the group who had resolved on their way to the priests that they would later send a thank you note and even a check to that Jesus of Nazareth for pointing them in the right direction - for giving them the formula for a truly thankful life - for being so helpful.
But the real Christian life is not about confessing Jesus as helpful. It is something much more difficult, much more unexpected, much more radical.
On the way to Jerusalem [Jesus] was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:11-19 ESV)
The Word of God has come in human flesh to affirm and fulfill the work of Moses — the work of Moses that does not ask that we promise to act more thankfully, that we enroll in a thirty day, thirty step program to change our hearts and transform ourselves into truly thankful people, despite what the TV evangelists say.
Christ came — Christ comes to you and me this day — to first affirm that our leprosy is truly leprous. It forever bars us from communion with a holy, perfect God and his holy people. When we say "amen" to the holy and perfect will of God for us and for the world, we find ourselves under the realization that our un-thankfulness has placed us outside the camp. Our sin has relegated us to wander in the wilderness of sickness and disease and failed promises and a will-power that just can't sustain our good intentions. We stand afar from the God of heaven and cry out in total despair, "Despite our un-thankful hearts, have mercy on us Lord. Come quickly to save us, for we can in no way even begin to save ourselves."
Martin Luther and the Scriptures reminds us that God brings the rain for the just and the unjust alike. God provides his life-giving, life-sustaining gifts not just to pious pilgrims and believing Missouri Synod Lutherans. He gives undeserving gifts to those who have true saving faith and those who do not. For we know that in his heart-of-hearts, our Lord loves to abundantly show grace and favor and mercy — even toward his wayward creation, even toward unfaithful children, even toward the un-thankful. For he gave his greatest gift: his precious, only-begotten Son for a world bent on either successfully turning him into merely a nice Savior — or rejecting him altogether.
The Samaritan leper — unlike the other nine — was comfortable with believing that he should have never been healed. He was outside any demand before God or his spokesmen to be cured, either in this life or in eternity. The Samaritan leper received salvation at the hand of Christ as complete, unexpected, undeserved, unmerited grace. And, we see, that gift of faith in the grace of God alone produced the fruits of faith: a truly thankful heart that would not rest until due thanks and praise was placed at the feet of the Christ, the Messiah, the One anointed by heaven to, as we heard at the beginning of this passage, journey to Jerusalem, there to do what only the Christ could accomplish: fulfill what the sacrificing of doves and goats and bulls could only point to. The winning of salvation on behalf of an entire rebel world.
The scandal of Christianity is the scandal of Christ and his Cross: that only in faith in Jesus as our substitutionary sacrifice for our leprous sin is there to be found true thanksgiving — thankfulness that lasts through December 25th and January 1st and into eternity.
You won't read that in this morning's paper. You won't hear that during this afternoon's half-time show. You won't see that on one of the giant comic strip character balloons during a Thanksgiving day parade. But it's heaven's truth just the same.
Human behavior that looks thankful is simply that: outward show from fallen, weak and helpless people that the world may applaud for a day, even though it counts for nothing when it comes to our salvation before the almighty Creator of heaven and earth.
As fallen children of Adam and Eve, we need healing under the Word of God himself. As fallen children of Adam and Eve, we need to be re-created from the inside out and given thankful hearts that see everything through the mercy of Christ and his Cross.
In true faith and the thankfulness it produces, we can give thanks to God that he has come to us in Holy Baptism and will continue to see us through — through heart-ache, through loss, through the most hopeless of difficulties. Even if we think we are like that one Samaritan, completely unworthy of being healed from what bars us from God's heavenly presence.
It doesn't take a 30 or 40 day program to make someone struggling with their sinfulness into someone truly thankful. It takes one Savior and his merciful, forgiving, healing Word — his Word that changes even as-well-as-dead leprous hearts into beating, believing hearts that willingly, joyfully — thankfully —join Christ on his journey to the Cross. And as he said to the Samaritan leper he says to you today: "In my death and resurrection you have been healed. In God-given faith and thanksgiving — take up your cross and follow me."
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Dear Fellow-Redeemed in Christ our merciful Master:
The Holy Gospel According to Saint Luke, the 17th chapter:
On the way to Jerusalem [Jesus] was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. (Luke 17:11-14 ESV)
I have finally come up with a plan to write a book and make so much money from sales that I can retire when I'm fifty-two. I know it will be a best-seller because it is exactly what the world — and our old, worldly nature — thinks it needs to have a truly thankful and joyous and happy and fulfilled and blessed life. I already know what the front cover will look like: a photograph of me in a nice suit with a few big gold rings and a Rolex and a big smile (and a little more hair on the top of my head). And the title of the book in big letters: "Thirty Days to a Thankful Life."
Inside the book will be thirty chapters detailing thirty steps that, if done in just the right way, will promise the truly blessed life. The truly happy and successful life. The truly thankful life that everyone wants but no one, seemingly, can achieve — until now. Until my proven 30 step program to the truly thankful life.
The great thing about selling my book on "thirty days to the thankful life" is that the world — and our old, worldly nature — is already selling this formula in its advertisements and movies and novels and poems and television specials.
The 30 days between Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Eve is the perfect time to get regularly hit over the head with the judgment that we have been — again — for another year — found as poor, miserable failures when it comes to being the always thankful people we should be.
This is the reason Hollywood stars come out once a year to dish out turkey to homeless people. This is the reason we are entertained by special presentations of the Grinch and Dickens' A Christmas Carol. This is the reason for the insanity of these thirty days between November 26th and December 24th: the world — and our old, worldly nature — have fallen for the temptation to stake everything on the belief that we can make satisfaction for our shame and guilt and become truly thankful people by promising more, entertaining more, doing more, and buying more.
And unfortunately, much of what calls itself Christian today promotes the same dead-end belief: changing the fallen human heart by fallen human will power.
It's interesting that when first-time visitors come to worship services here at Redeemer and are asked, "Did you feel comfortable with the service this morning?" the answer is more often than not: "Everything was nice — except for that beginning part. You know, that part where we have to say that we are poor, miserable sinners. Do you guys actually say that every Sunday?"
The crazy thing about disdain for the confession of sins is the fact that those same people join the world these thirty days between Thanksgiving and Christmas and secretly confess a very similar thing — that:
"I have failed to be truly thankful by what I have done and by what I have left undone. I have done unthankful things. I have (at least on occasion) found myself stingy or greedy or selfish — maybe even grumbling about things I shouldn't really be grumbling about."
"I have failed to be truly thankful by what I have failed to do. I have not cheerfully given as much as I should to my parents, my spouse, my children, my grandchildren and the rest of my family. I haven't been happy in sharing my things with others — especially those in need. I haven't shown thankful behavior to those God has placed in my life. I haven't always said, "Thank you" when others give me things. I failed to write a note or make a call or stop and show appreciation for the simple blessings God continues to give through my neighbor: my family, my co-workers, my congregation, the leaders in my community."
But although we as believers in Christ and the world make similar confessions, Scripture reveals that our condition is much more desperate than what the world would ever imagine. Our un-thankfulness can't be corrected with a simple swipe of the credit card or our pledge to do better next time around.
Plenty of people after eating too much turkey and gravy will look back on Thanksgiving Day and convince themselves that things went better than expected. Uncle Henry didn't walk away from the table after arguing about the difference between the teachings of the Lutheran Church and the Church of Scientology. The kids didn't scream about which Black Friday sale to camp out in front of. Everyone was polite. Some even said "thank you" for hosting the dinner or bringing the dessert. Bobby even helped with the dishes.
But is that the core and center of what makes people truly thankful people living out truly thankful lives?
Contrary to what some parents confess when I ask them why they chose Redeemer Lutheran as the place to enroll their preschooler, Jesus has not come to merely make our behavior look more "Christian." (Actually, if you want the best "Christian"-looking behavior, you might be better off to go to your Hindu or Mormon neighbor.)
All ten lepers in today's Gospel reading were thankful and obedient. They did just what Jesus had told them to do. They went to show themselves to the priest and, when pronounced "clean," they made the required sacrifices at the temple according to the law of Moses.
All ten decided to do the proper and polite thing and plead for help and mercy and healing without approaching Jesus and risk getting him infected with the disease they were suffering under. There were probably more than a few in the group who had resolved on their way to the priests that they would later send a thank you note and even a check to that Jesus of Nazareth for pointing them in the right direction - for giving them the formula for a truly thankful life - for being so helpful.
But the real Christian life is not about confessing Jesus as helpful. It is something much more difficult, much more unexpected, much more radical.
On the way to Jerusalem [Jesus] was passing along between Samaria and Galilee. And as he entered a village, he was met by ten lepers, who stood at a distance and lifted up their voices, saying, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us.” When he saw them he said to them, “Go and show yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, giving him thanks. Now he was a Samaritan. Then Jesus answered, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go your way; your faith has made you well.” (Luke 17:11-19 ESV)
The Word of God has come in human flesh to affirm and fulfill the work of Moses — the work of Moses that does not ask that we promise to act more thankfully, that we enroll in a thirty day, thirty step program to change our hearts and transform ourselves into truly thankful people, despite what the TV evangelists say.
Christ came — Christ comes to you and me this day — to first affirm that our leprosy is truly leprous. It forever bars us from communion with a holy, perfect God and his holy people. When we say "amen" to the holy and perfect will of God for us and for the world, we find ourselves under the realization that our un-thankfulness has placed us outside the camp. Our sin has relegated us to wander in the wilderness of sickness and disease and failed promises and a will-power that just can't sustain our good intentions. We stand afar from the God of heaven and cry out in total despair, "Despite our un-thankful hearts, have mercy on us Lord. Come quickly to save us, for we can in no way even begin to save ourselves."
Martin Luther and the Scriptures reminds us that God brings the rain for the just and the unjust alike. God provides his life-giving, life-sustaining gifts not just to pious pilgrims and believing Missouri Synod Lutherans. He gives undeserving gifts to those who have true saving faith and those who do not. For we know that in his heart-of-hearts, our Lord loves to abundantly show grace and favor and mercy — even toward his wayward creation, even toward unfaithful children, even toward the un-thankful. For he gave his greatest gift: his precious, only-begotten Son for a world bent on either successfully turning him into merely a nice Savior — or rejecting him altogether.
The Samaritan leper — unlike the other nine — was comfortable with believing that he should have never been healed. He was outside any demand before God or his spokesmen to be cured, either in this life or in eternity. The Samaritan leper received salvation at the hand of Christ as complete, unexpected, undeserved, unmerited grace. And, we see, that gift of faith in the grace of God alone produced the fruits of faith: a truly thankful heart that would not rest until due thanks and praise was placed at the feet of the Christ, the Messiah, the One anointed by heaven to, as we heard at the beginning of this passage, journey to Jerusalem, there to do what only the Christ could accomplish: fulfill what the sacrificing of doves and goats and bulls could only point to. The winning of salvation on behalf of an entire rebel world.
The scandal of Christianity is the scandal of Christ and his Cross: that only in faith in Jesus as our substitutionary sacrifice for our leprous sin is there to be found true thanksgiving — thankfulness that lasts through December 25th and January 1st and into eternity.
You won't read that in this morning's paper. You won't hear that during this afternoon's half-time show. You won't see that on one of the giant comic strip character balloons during a Thanksgiving day parade. But it's heaven's truth just the same.
Human behavior that looks thankful is simply that: outward show from fallen, weak and helpless people that the world may applaud for a day, even though it counts for nothing when it comes to our salvation before the almighty Creator of heaven and earth.
As fallen children of Adam and Eve, we need healing under the Word of God himself. As fallen children of Adam and Eve, we need to be re-created from the inside out and given thankful hearts that see everything through the mercy of Christ and his Cross.
In true faith and the thankfulness it produces, we can give thanks to God that he has come to us in Holy Baptism and will continue to see us through — through heart-ache, through loss, through the most hopeless of difficulties. Even if we think we are like that one Samaritan, completely unworthy of being healed from what bars us from God's heavenly presence.
It doesn't take a 30 or 40 day program to make someone struggling with their sinfulness into someone truly thankful. It takes one Savior and his merciful, forgiving, healing Word — his Word that changes even as-well-as-dead leprous hearts into beating, believing hearts that willingly, joyfully — thankfully —join Christ on his journey to the Cross. And as he said to the Samaritan leper he says to you today: "In my death and resurrection you have been healed. In God-given faith and thanksgiving — take up your cross and follow me."
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
A Reformation Sunday Sermon - Let Christ be Your Savior (John 8)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters of Christ the Crucified:
... Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” (John 8:31-33 ESV)
The world and the world's churches have convinced themselves that the nicer they appear and the more good they can do in front of television cameras and newspaper reporters, the more the world will adore Christ, fall in love with him, and stop all its bad behavior.
And so congregations and organizations that call themselves Christian are out in the world loving everyone to death in order to make the world love the Gospel of Christ.
And shouldn't that be the way we effectively, successfully make everyone in our families, neighbors and communities Christian — by being holy and righteous and good and sinless people who are constantly doing holy and righteous and good and sinless things? If only we would end all disagreements in our church. If only we would stop all those personal idiosyncrasies that bother those around us and give a flower and a smile to everyone we meet during the day. If only we would be the perfect parent or the perfect child or the perfect next-door neighbor or the perfect employee or citizen.
If only we would overcome our fallenness and truly love God with our entire mind and heart and soul. If only we would overcome our sinfulness and love and care for our neighbor simply for the sake of our neighbor —
Then the world would stop being so mean and realize that Christ-like love is all we need. If we would only be like Christ — then the world would put away all anger and jealousy and greed and slander and hatred — and decide to be nice and play by the rules.
But that's the strategy of the world and the world's churches. And although it sounds so good, it is, in view of God's own clear revelation through the prophets and apostles, a strategy that leads nowhere but sinful pride and boasting — or total despair.
This morning, as we celebrate the 492nd anniversary of God's grace given in Luther's re-discovery of the saving Gospel, we do well to remind ourselves that the Reformation of the Christian Church of Rome that began on October 31st, 1517 had nothing to do with any man-made revitalization program for the church and the world.
Luther didn't cook up some magic formula that injected enthusiasm and excitement into Rome's plans to build the kingdom of heaven on earth through the funneling of more money into the church's coffers. Luther is not celebrated this morning because he defended the inalienable rights of the individual or because he single-handedly exposed the evils of corporate greed within the organized Christian church.
God's Word this morning tells us again exactly what we need to hear - especially when we get all puffed up with the wrong-headed notion that stubborn ol' Luther, master theological teacher, Bible-translator, hymn-writer, preacher, pastor and missionary lived such a good and Christ-like life that the gates of heaven were opened for anyone committed to follow in his saintly steps.
All that the Reformation truly stands for continues to be something that the world just can't swallow. Something that the world and the world's religions continue to spin and re-interpret to fit it's own self-deluded conclusion that humanity — if it just tries hard enough — can become holy and good and righteous — even before God himself.
Luther, after his hell-on-earth experiences as a monk, was given by God the grace to understand that even with the best of intentions, even with the greatest desire to please God and serve neighbor, our first parents have drained us of any ability to actually carry out what is truly God-pleasing.
Our care of neighbor is stained with our own preoccupation of building up our own image in the eyes of others.
Our love of God is all wrapped up in what kind of reward we think we'll be knocking down for being such good children of heaven.
We keep track of who we've saved and who we've helped and how many times we've said to someone on an airplane, "God loves you and so do I."
We are, by our very nature, list-makers of all the good we think we've contributed to the "righteousness" column that will be read on the last day by the One who knows if we've been naughty or nice.
No wonder why our old nature and the world's religions around us just can't accept the Jesus that comes to us in the Old and New Testament. The Jesus who announces in the eighth chapter of the Holy Gospel According to Saint John that all children of a real Adam and Eve are real fallen and sinful children of parents who gambled everything away — for themselves and for each of us — as they traded in faith and trust in their gracious and all-giving God for a chance at being the center of the universe.
And so any Reformation service worth it's salt begins with the acclamation that it isn't our good intentions that last forever. It isn't our nice behavior or sincerity or tears or promises or decisions or our cleaned-up lifestyle that saves ourselves or anyone else. The Church of the Reformation is, by God's unmerited grace, the church that begins Reformation Sunday with the clear confession — to the Lord Almighty and to the world — that on the basis of the unchanging Word of God, we are by our very fallen nature "sinful and unclean" and "deserving only of God's present and eternal wrath and punishment."
That's the opening note of the Reformation symphony because it is the opening note of the history of God's redemption in Christ.
We are under the oppression and shackles and curse of sin. We are worse off than the children of Israel under the thumb of Egypt's wicked Pharaoh. We are, by our very nature, able to choose, but able to choose only what appears to be good, right and salutary before the Maker of heaven and earth.
We are, in the words of Saint Paul, poor, miserable failures when it comes to carrying out the good that we wish to do, even if we've convinced ourselves and the world of our spotless intentions.
You see, the Law of God comes through Moses and the Ten Commandments to hold up the clear mirror of heaven's will, that we would get a good look at what we have lost — what we have become before our holy and perfect and righteous God. And the sight is not a pretty one. "For all have sinned and fallen woefully short of the glory of God" — that glory intended for each of us and for the whole of creation.
Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." (John 8:34-36 ESV)
Several years ago, the great Lutheran theologian and ethicist Dr. George Forell spoke here in this sanctuary and held up the truths of Scripture reflected in the great hymns of the Reformation. And in pointing out the relevance of the Reformation for today, he pointed to the words written by Paul Speratus in the hymn we sang here last Sunday: "Salvation unto Us Has Come."
It was a false, misleading dream
That God his Law had given
That sinners could themselves redeem /
And by their works gain heaven.
The Law is but a mirror bright /
To bring the inbred sin to light
That lurks within our nature. (verse 3)
Try getting the United Nations or Washington D.C. or Sacramento (or the YMCA or many churches that call themselves Christian) to sing that next time they get together to do good and make the world a little more like heaven.
This morning it is God in his grace that gathers us together to shut-out the go-nowhere, empty programs of the world and our own fallen nature — that we would hear his Word — his Word which shows us our sin —so that we would then receive with joy and thanksgiving the only God-ordained medicine for hardened hearts — the only God-ordained cure for minds convinced that, if given just another chance, we could clean up our lives, turn everything around and thereby earn God's favor.
It is God's Word alone that clearly shows us the depth of our spiritual plight, that we would then be brought to the foot of the Cross of Christ to there see the Son of God take upon himself our sin — and atone for it and make satisfaction for it and bury it forever in his grave.
Jesus wasn't born in a humble manger just to teach us to be humble. Our Lord wasn't crucified on a cruel cross just to show us that we can redeem ourselves by always looking at the bright side of life. Christ did not come to show you how you can save yourself. He came to affirm the ministry of Moses and the Law that drives us to despair of any self-made attempt to build some staircase into heaven out of our own good works.
Outside of God's grace in Christ, we are, as the Small Catechism reminds us, spiritually blind, rebel enemies of God, even when our behavior looks so good to the world. For, as Romans 14 reveals, "whatever does not proceed from [true] faith is sin."
But if the Church of the Reformation proclaims that everything outside of God-given faith in the Christ of Scripture is sin and slavery and death, it is because only with this confession are we ready to hear the Gospel — the great Good News that alone brings true peace and salvation and the hope of heaven.
Christ did not come to show us how we can perform before God and make him applaud on account of our more civilized behavior.
Christ came to die for the shame and guilt of an entire disobedient, out-of-control world. Christ came to graciously, mercifully save undeserving sinners who were, whether they would admit it or not, dying under the weight of their own unrighteousness.
That is the one, true treasure of the Church. That is the holy Gospel of grace given to the Christian Church on earth to share with all who have given up on saving themselves by their attempts to be nicer and more love-able before God and neighbor.
The Jewish leaders in this morning's Gospel reading who began to believe were taken back when Jesus told them that their favored status as children of Abraham didn't negate the fact that on their own they could do nothing to earn heaven's reward. Even the religious elite needed another — a strong man to come and bind sin, death and the devil and set the weak and helpless free.
And what these people in John chapter 8 needed to believe is the same thing we are called to put our faith in. The clear teaching of Scripture that there is only one righteous offspring of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. There is only one righteous Son who enjoys an permanent place before God in his eternal dwelling place. There is only one righteous redeemer who offered up his very life-blood as an all-encompassing sacrifice for the transgressions of the entire human race.
Only through Christ are we declared acquitted, restored, righteous in God's sight. Only through Christ. Only through Baptism into his saving Name are we given a new nature that not only has the ability but the unwavering desire to trust in God's Word and please him with the fruits of faith.
Saint Paul said it best when he wrote these inspired words to young Timothy:
The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners... .
(1Timothy 1:15 ESV)
I am not up here this morning to wow you with everything I know about Luther and the Reformation. I am not up here this morning to give you the secret formula to get all sin out of your life so you can become just like Christ in order to win some "Holy and Righteous Christian of the Year" award. That's the junk Tetzel was selling by exchanging coins for parchment and the Pope's seal and the promise of sins paid for.
I am here, on this Reformation Sunday, to point you to that one thing — that one thing that remains forever. And it isn't the smarts of the pastor or your promise never to sin again.
I have been called to simply point sinners to the eternal Word made man — to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world — at his Cross, at his Baptismal font, at his altar.
In God-given faith, confess your unrighteousness, and your trust in Christ — our only redeemer, our only savior, our only hope and righteousness, here and in eternity. Again, Paul Speratus:
Let me not doubt, but truly see
Your Word cannot be broken;
Your call rings out, "Come unto me!"
No falsehood have You spoken.
Baptized into your precious Name,
My faith cannot be put to shame,
And I shall never perish. (verse 7)
Let yourself be the helpless sinner. And then — let Christ be your Savior.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Brothers and Sisters of Christ the Crucified:
... Jesus said to the Jews who had believed in him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?” (John 8:31-33 ESV)
The world and the world's churches have convinced themselves that the nicer they appear and the more good they can do in front of television cameras and newspaper reporters, the more the world will adore Christ, fall in love with him, and stop all its bad behavior.
And so congregations and organizations that call themselves Christian are out in the world loving everyone to death in order to make the world love the Gospel of Christ.
And shouldn't that be the way we effectively, successfully make everyone in our families, neighbors and communities Christian — by being holy and righteous and good and sinless people who are constantly doing holy and righteous and good and sinless things? If only we would end all disagreements in our church. If only we would stop all those personal idiosyncrasies that bother those around us and give a flower and a smile to everyone we meet during the day. If only we would be the perfect parent or the perfect child or the perfect next-door neighbor or the perfect employee or citizen.
If only we would overcome our fallenness and truly love God with our entire mind and heart and soul. If only we would overcome our sinfulness and love and care for our neighbor simply for the sake of our neighbor —
Then the world would stop being so mean and realize that Christ-like love is all we need. If we would only be like Christ — then the world would put away all anger and jealousy and greed and slander and hatred — and decide to be nice and play by the rules.
But that's the strategy of the world and the world's churches. And although it sounds so good, it is, in view of God's own clear revelation through the prophets and apostles, a strategy that leads nowhere but sinful pride and boasting — or total despair.
This morning, as we celebrate the 492nd anniversary of God's grace given in Luther's re-discovery of the saving Gospel, we do well to remind ourselves that the Reformation of the Christian Church of Rome that began on October 31st, 1517 had nothing to do with any man-made revitalization program for the church and the world.
Luther didn't cook up some magic formula that injected enthusiasm and excitement into Rome's plans to build the kingdom of heaven on earth through the funneling of more money into the church's coffers. Luther is not celebrated this morning because he defended the inalienable rights of the individual or because he single-handedly exposed the evils of corporate greed within the organized Christian church.
God's Word this morning tells us again exactly what we need to hear - especially when we get all puffed up with the wrong-headed notion that stubborn ol' Luther, master theological teacher, Bible-translator, hymn-writer, preacher, pastor and missionary lived such a good and Christ-like life that the gates of heaven were opened for anyone committed to follow in his saintly steps.
All that the Reformation truly stands for continues to be something that the world just can't swallow. Something that the world and the world's religions continue to spin and re-interpret to fit it's own self-deluded conclusion that humanity — if it just tries hard enough — can become holy and good and righteous — even before God himself.
Luther, after his hell-on-earth experiences as a monk, was given by God the grace to understand that even with the best of intentions, even with the greatest desire to please God and serve neighbor, our first parents have drained us of any ability to actually carry out what is truly God-pleasing.
Our care of neighbor is stained with our own preoccupation of building up our own image in the eyes of others.
Our love of God is all wrapped up in what kind of reward we think we'll be knocking down for being such good children of heaven.
We keep track of who we've saved and who we've helped and how many times we've said to someone on an airplane, "God loves you and so do I."
We are, by our very nature, list-makers of all the good we think we've contributed to the "righteousness" column that will be read on the last day by the One who knows if we've been naughty or nice.
No wonder why our old nature and the world's religions around us just can't accept the Jesus that comes to us in the Old and New Testament. The Jesus who announces in the eighth chapter of the Holy Gospel According to Saint John that all children of a real Adam and Eve are real fallen and sinful children of parents who gambled everything away — for themselves and for each of us — as they traded in faith and trust in their gracious and all-giving God for a chance at being the center of the universe.
And so any Reformation service worth it's salt begins with the acclamation that it isn't our good intentions that last forever. It isn't our nice behavior or sincerity or tears or promises or decisions or our cleaned-up lifestyle that saves ourselves or anyone else. The Church of the Reformation is, by God's unmerited grace, the church that begins Reformation Sunday with the clear confession — to the Lord Almighty and to the world — that on the basis of the unchanging Word of God, we are by our very fallen nature "sinful and unclean" and "deserving only of God's present and eternal wrath and punishment."
That's the opening note of the Reformation symphony because it is the opening note of the history of God's redemption in Christ.
We are under the oppression and shackles and curse of sin. We are worse off than the children of Israel under the thumb of Egypt's wicked Pharaoh. We are, by our very nature, able to choose, but able to choose only what appears to be good, right and salutary before the Maker of heaven and earth.
We are, in the words of Saint Paul, poor, miserable failures when it comes to carrying out the good that we wish to do, even if we've convinced ourselves and the world of our spotless intentions.
You see, the Law of God comes through Moses and the Ten Commandments to hold up the clear mirror of heaven's will, that we would get a good look at what we have lost — what we have become before our holy and perfect and righteous God. And the sight is not a pretty one. "For all have sinned and fallen woefully short of the glory of God" — that glory intended for each of us and for the whole of creation.
Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who commits sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed." (John 8:34-36 ESV)
Several years ago, the great Lutheran theologian and ethicist Dr. George Forell spoke here in this sanctuary and held up the truths of Scripture reflected in the great hymns of the Reformation. And in pointing out the relevance of the Reformation for today, he pointed to the words written by Paul Speratus in the hymn we sang here last Sunday: "Salvation unto Us Has Come."
It was a false, misleading dream
That God his Law had given
That sinners could themselves redeem /
And by their works gain heaven.
The Law is but a mirror bright /
To bring the inbred sin to light
That lurks within our nature. (verse 3)
Try getting the United Nations or Washington D.C. or Sacramento (or the YMCA or many churches that call themselves Christian) to sing that next time they get together to do good and make the world a little more like heaven.
This morning it is God in his grace that gathers us together to shut-out the go-nowhere, empty programs of the world and our own fallen nature — that we would hear his Word — his Word which shows us our sin —so that we would then receive with joy and thanksgiving the only God-ordained medicine for hardened hearts — the only God-ordained cure for minds convinced that, if given just another chance, we could clean up our lives, turn everything around and thereby earn God's favor.
It is God's Word alone that clearly shows us the depth of our spiritual plight, that we would then be brought to the foot of the Cross of Christ to there see the Son of God take upon himself our sin — and atone for it and make satisfaction for it and bury it forever in his grave.
Jesus wasn't born in a humble manger just to teach us to be humble. Our Lord wasn't crucified on a cruel cross just to show us that we can redeem ourselves by always looking at the bright side of life. Christ did not come to show you how you can save yourself. He came to affirm the ministry of Moses and the Law that drives us to despair of any self-made attempt to build some staircase into heaven out of our own good works.
Outside of God's grace in Christ, we are, as the Small Catechism reminds us, spiritually blind, rebel enemies of God, even when our behavior looks so good to the world. For, as Romans 14 reveals, "whatever does not proceed from [true] faith is sin."
But if the Church of the Reformation proclaims that everything outside of God-given faith in the Christ of Scripture is sin and slavery and death, it is because only with this confession are we ready to hear the Gospel — the great Good News that alone brings true peace and salvation and the hope of heaven.
Christ did not come to show us how we can perform before God and make him applaud on account of our more civilized behavior.
Christ came to die for the shame and guilt of an entire disobedient, out-of-control world. Christ came to graciously, mercifully save undeserving sinners who were, whether they would admit it or not, dying under the weight of their own unrighteousness.
That is the one, true treasure of the Church. That is the holy Gospel of grace given to the Christian Church on earth to share with all who have given up on saving themselves by their attempts to be nicer and more love-able before God and neighbor.
The Jewish leaders in this morning's Gospel reading who began to believe were taken back when Jesus told them that their favored status as children of Abraham didn't negate the fact that on their own they could do nothing to earn heaven's reward. Even the religious elite needed another — a strong man to come and bind sin, death and the devil and set the weak and helpless free.
And what these people in John chapter 8 needed to believe is the same thing we are called to put our faith in. The clear teaching of Scripture that there is only one righteous offspring of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. There is only one righteous Son who enjoys an permanent place before God in his eternal dwelling place. There is only one righteous redeemer who offered up his very life-blood as an all-encompassing sacrifice for the transgressions of the entire human race.
Only through Christ are we declared acquitted, restored, righteous in God's sight. Only through Christ. Only through Baptism into his saving Name are we given a new nature that not only has the ability but the unwavering desire to trust in God's Word and please him with the fruits of faith.
Saint Paul said it best when he wrote these inspired words to young Timothy:
The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners... .
(1Timothy 1:15 ESV)
I am not up here this morning to wow you with everything I know about Luther and the Reformation. I am not up here this morning to give you the secret formula to get all sin out of your life so you can become just like Christ in order to win some "Holy and Righteous Christian of the Year" award. That's the junk Tetzel was selling by exchanging coins for parchment and the Pope's seal and the promise of sins paid for.
I am here, on this Reformation Sunday, to point you to that one thing — that one thing that remains forever. And it isn't the smarts of the pastor or your promise never to sin again.
I have been called to simply point sinners to the eternal Word made man — to the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world — at his Cross, at his Baptismal font, at his altar.
In God-given faith, confess your unrighteousness, and your trust in Christ — our only redeemer, our only savior, our only hope and righteousness, here and in eternity. Again, Paul Speratus:
Let me not doubt, but truly see
Your Word cannot be broken;
Your call rings out, "Come unto me!"
No falsehood have You spoken.
Baptized into your precious Name,
My faith cannot be put to shame,
And I shall never perish. (verse 7)
Let yourself be the helpless sinner. And then — let Christ be your Savior.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
The Wheels of Salvation Set in Motion (Mark 9:30-37)
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Fellow Redeemed in Christ:
They [Jesus and the disciples] went on from there and passed through Galilee. And he did not want anyone to know, for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him. And when he is killed, after three days he will rise.” But they did not understand the saying, and were afraid to ask him. (Mark 9:30-32 ESV)
It's already begun. The movement is now afoot. The plans are being made. The plot has already been hatched.
And Jesus knows it. And Jesus is preparing for it. And Jesus is preparing his disciples for it. And, this morning, Jesus is preparing you and me for it.
The plans are in reaction to the impending battle that will answer once-and-for-all: "Who is the greatest among us? Who's got the real power and authority? Who's got the chutzpah to step up to the plate and deliver? Who's got the passion to win what angels and archangels and the whole company of heaven have been pleading for since Adam and Eve's fall into sin?
When it comes to salvation, there is seemingly little room for the shy and squeamish. From now on, things will move irreversibly toward the great and mighty day of the Lord. "The time has now come." Jesus announces to those he has called to follow him.
Because when it comes to life in this world, God doesn't leave his own children hanging — he doesn't leave us hanging. When it comes to our redemption, our Lord puts it all on the table.
And as we heard last Sunday, the focus of Jesus' ministry now moves from performing signs and miracles as a witness to the crowds to the preparation of Jesus' own for what now lies just around the corner.
And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again. (Mark 8:31 ESV)
No more obtuse hints, no more innuendo. No more under the table clues and back room whispers. For the disciples, for the tribes of Israel reduced to twelve, it was out in the open now. From the mouth of Jesus himself the disciples now hear plainly what had only been sketched out by the prophets of old: "I am the Christ. And I have been anointed to be the Servant of the Lord of Hosts, sent to secure salvation for you and for the entire world — by suffering, by being rejected, by being killed — and after three days resurrected."
The Twelve had hoped that things would change for the better after Jesus' first prediction of what was in store for him — and for them — in Jerusalem. And with the glimpse of glory granted to Peter and James and John (the representatives of the Twelve who accompanied Jesus up the mount of transfiguration), they quickly forgot the far-from-glorious end Jesus had earlier predicted. With the powerful healing of the boy suffering under an unclean spirit, the disciples tucked away any thought that Jesus would end up in the hands of evil men who would strip him — strip him of his very life.
But now, Jesus had paused from performing signs and miracles in the public square to do an even greater work behind closed doors: to begin the process of readying his true followers for the cosmic firestorm that would ensue with Jesus' betrayal and arrest.
With this morning's Gospel from the 9th chapter of Saint Mark, we see that the wheels are now set in motion. The Jewish religious leaders have been convinced that this whole Jesus of Nazareth movement was not progressing toward their salvation but — if left unchecked — their undoing. Judas has been convinced that the perks he secretly enjoyed as treasurer of the band's coffers were now in real jeopardy if Jesus was preparing to end it all when he arrived in Jerusalem. Judas thought: "How in the world can this self-proclaimed messiah — this glorious son of man — allow himself to be delivered over into the hands of those who would cancel his rise to fame — like some helpless piece of bulk mail?"
I always remember what Judas sang in "Jesus Christ Superstar" as he warned Jesus about the road he was now announcing to the disciples:
Listen Jesus to the warning I give. /
Please remember that I want us to live.
But it's sad to see our chances weakening with ev'ry hour.
All your followers are blind. / Too much heaven on their minds.
It was beautiful, but now it's sour. / Yes, it's all gone sour ... .
Judas' dreams of greatness were drying up, even as the Twelve made their way to the lakeside home of Mary, the mother of Jesus. He could see nothing but disaster and a big, fat dead end — not only for Jesus, but especially for himself and his great personal aspirations.
Something had to be done. Plans needed to be made. Alliances needed to be established and nurtured. Someone needed to stand up and take the bull by its horns and stop this mad rush off the cliff. Someone needed to rise to the occasion among Jesus' followers.
And they came to Capernaum. And when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. (Mark 9:33-34 ESV)
The private whispers of the disciples along the way had proven much more divisive than decisive. They were jostling among themselves for a seat of power and glory and honor at their master's right and left — especially now as it seemed that someone would have to take charge in Jesus' absence.
Who among the Twelve could guarantee they had the right stuff to continue what Jesus had started? Who was the heir apparent? Peter? James and John? Thomas? Andrew? Judas?
Who could make what Jesus had begun into something truly great and glorious and eternal?
Jesus, dear, long-suffering, patient Jesus brought his disciples inside and closed the door and sat down to teach them again something that seemed more and more impossible for their fallen, self-absorbed, "what's in it for me," hearts and minds to grasp. Jesus was about to teach them that "It's not about getting to the top of the ladder before anyone else."
And [Jesus] sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” And he took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he said to them,“Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” (Mark 9:35-37 ESV)
It should increasingly disturb us that the mission of more and more of the organized Christian church swirls around a deadly obsession to gain the applause of the crowds and make a great name for those individuals who — in the eyes of the world — fought the hardest for heaven and claimed the most real estate for the kingdom of God.
Jesus calls the twelve to repentance and a complete turn-around in their understanding of the securing of salvation when he puts the simple, unquestioning faith of a child before their eyes and says, "This is what the kingdom of God is all about. This is the will of God. This is the mission of his one-and-only Son. To be a servant who's only aspiration is to obey the good and gracious will of him who sent him."
Our secret aspiration was to be thought of well by more and more people. Jesus' secret aspiration? To do the will of his Father in heaven and give his life-blood — even for fame-craving disciples. Our secret wish was to gain the accolades of those around us and have nice things said of us after we were gone. Jesus' secret wish: to do the will of his Father in heaven — to serve his Father's gracious will — even when it meant being the Suffering Servant. Even when it meant receiving the wrath of sinners too busy arguing about who's name would be announced at the next awards show to see their redemption just over the hill.
"What were you discussing along the way?" Jesus asks, as he calls each of us to let go of the desire to make a name for ourselves — that he might place his saving name upon us.
Christ would have nothing to do with the silly and endless debates about who was greatest — who deserved the service and applause of everyone around them. He came to serve, to give his life as a ransom for the many, to put on a waiter's towel and stoop down and wash away our sins with his very life-blood.
When it comes to hitting home runs in the kingdom of salvation, only Christ wears the title of designated hitter. Only he has stepped up to the plate, and forsaking all glory, won for us — and for an entire lawless, self-seeking world — the name gifted to us at the baptismal font: believing, faithful, God-pleasing child of heaven.
Put your faith in Christ and his Word spoken over you at the font, spoken over you through the prophets and apostles, spoken over his table, over bread and wine through which he forgives and strengthens.
It took something truly great to change the disciples' endless debates about who among them was the greatest and most glorious. And it takes something truly miraculous to change our old nature's fascination to look into the mirror and ask, "Who's the fairest one of all?" It takes a plunge into Christ's death and resurrection. It takes a daily drowning of that nature we drag around with us, that a new nature would arise — a Christ-like nature that serves our neighbor, even the neighbor we find it so difficult to care for.
It was the Lutheran pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer who once said, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him to come and die."
May Christ continue his great and mighty work of drowning our sin, and brining forth a new nature that serves those God places into our lives - for their sake.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Dear Fellow Redeemed in Christ:
They [Jesus and the disciples] went on from there and passed through Galilee. And he did not want anyone to know, for he was teaching his disciples, saying to them, “The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him. And when he is killed, after three days he will rise.” But they did not understand the saying, and were afraid to ask him. (Mark 9:30-32 ESV)
It's already begun. The movement is now afoot. The plans are being made. The plot has already been hatched.
And Jesus knows it. And Jesus is preparing for it. And Jesus is preparing his disciples for it. And, this morning, Jesus is preparing you and me for it.
The plans are in reaction to the impending battle that will answer once-and-for-all: "Who is the greatest among us? Who's got the real power and authority? Who's got the chutzpah to step up to the plate and deliver? Who's got the passion to win what angels and archangels and the whole company of heaven have been pleading for since Adam and Eve's fall into sin?
When it comes to salvation, there is seemingly little room for the shy and squeamish. From now on, things will move irreversibly toward the great and mighty day of the Lord. "The time has now come." Jesus announces to those he has called to follow him.
Because when it comes to life in this world, God doesn't leave his own children hanging — he doesn't leave us hanging. When it comes to our redemption, our Lord puts it all on the table.
And as we heard last Sunday, the focus of Jesus' ministry now moves from performing signs and miracles as a witness to the crowds to the preparation of Jesus' own for what now lies just around the corner.
And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again. (Mark 8:31 ESV)
No more obtuse hints, no more innuendo. No more under the table clues and back room whispers. For the disciples, for the tribes of Israel reduced to twelve, it was out in the open now. From the mouth of Jesus himself the disciples now hear plainly what had only been sketched out by the prophets of old: "I am the Christ. And I have been anointed to be the Servant of the Lord of Hosts, sent to secure salvation for you and for the entire world — by suffering, by being rejected, by being killed — and after three days resurrected."
The Twelve had hoped that things would change for the better after Jesus' first prediction of what was in store for him — and for them — in Jerusalem. And with the glimpse of glory granted to Peter and James and John (the representatives of the Twelve who accompanied Jesus up the mount of transfiguration), they quickly forgot the far-from-glorious end Jesus had earlier predicted. With the powerful healing of the boy suffering under an unclean spirit, the disciples tucked away any thought that Jesus would end up in the hands of evil men who would strip him — strip him of his very life.
But now, Jesus had paused from performing signs and miracles in the public square to do an even greater work behind closed doors: to begin the process of readying his true followers for the cosmic firestorm that would ensue with Jesus' betrayal and arrest.
With this morning's Gospel from the 9th chapter of Saint Mark, we see that the wheels are now set in motion. The Jewish religious leaders have been convinced that this whole Jesus of Nazareth movement was not progressing toward their salvation but — if left unchecked — their undoing. Judas has been convinced that the perks he secretly enjoyed as treasurer of the band's coffers were now in real jeopardy if Jesus was preparing to end it all when he arrived in Jerusalem. Judas thought: "How in the world can this self-proclaimed messiah — this glorious son of man — allow himself to be delivered over into the hands of those who would cancel his rise to fame — like some helpless piece of bulk mail?"
I always remember what Judas sang in "Jesus Christ Superstar" as he warned Jesus about the road he was now announcing to the disciples:
Listen Jesus to the warning I give. /
Please remember that I want us to live.
But it's sad to see our chances weakening with ev'ry hour.
All your followers are blind. / Too much heaven on their minds.
It was beautiful, but now it's sour. / Yes, it's all gone sour ... .
Judas' dreams of greatness were drying up, even as the Twelve made their way to the lakeside home of Mary, the mother of Jesus. He could see nothing but disaster and a big, fat dead end — not only for Jesus, but especially for himself and his great personal aspirations.
Something had to be done. Plans needed to be made. Alliances needed to be established and nurtured. Someone needed to stand up and take the bull by its horns and stop this mad rush off the cliff. Someone needed to rise to the occasion among Jesus' followers.
And they came to Capernaum. And when he was in the house he asked them, “What were you discussing on the way?” But they kept silent, for on the way they had argued with one another about who was the greatest. (Mark 9:33-34 ESV)
The private whispers of the disciples along the way had proven much more divisive than decisive. They were jostling among themselves for a seat of power and glory and honor at their master's right and left — especially now as it seemed that someone would have to take charge in Jesus' absence.
Who among the Twelve could guarantee they had the right stuff to continue what Jesus had started? Who was the heir apparent? Peter? James and John? Thomas? Andrew? Judas?
Who could make what Jesus had begun into something truly great and glorious and eternal?
Jesus, dear, long-suffering, patient Jesus brought his disciples inside and closed the door and sat down to teach them again something that seemed more and more impossible for their fallen, self-absorbed, "what's in it for me," hearts and minds to grasp. Jesus was about to teach them that "It's not about getting to the top of the ladder before anyone else."
And [Jesus] sat down and called the twelve. And he said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” And he took a child and put him in the midst of them, and taking him in his arms, he said to them,“Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but him who sent me.” (Mark 9:35-37 ESV)
It should increasingly disturb us that the mission of more and more of the organized Christian church swirls around a deadly obsession to gain the applause of the crowds and make a great name for those individuals who — in the eyes of the world — fought the hardest for heaven and claimed the most real estate for the kingdom of God.
Jesus calls the twelve to repentance and a complete turn-around in their understanding of the securing of salvation when he puts the simple, unquestioning faith of a child before their eyes and says, "This is what the kingdom of God is all about. This is the will of God. This is the mission of his one-and-only Son. To be a servant who's only aspiration is to obey the good and gracious will of him who sent him."
Our secret aspiration was to be thought of well by more and more people. Jesus' secret aspiration? To do the will of his Father in heaven and give his life-blood — even for fame-craving disciples. Our secret wish was to gain the accolades of those around us and have nice things said of us after we were gone. Jesus' secret wish: to do the will of his Father in heaven — to serve his Father's gracious will — even when it meant being the Suffering Servant. Even when it meant receiving the wrath of sinners too busy arguing about who's name would be announced at the next awards show to see their redemption just over the hill.
"What were you discussing along the way?" Jesus asks, as he calls each of us to let go of the desire to make a name for ourselves — that he might place his saving name upon us.
Christ would have nothing to do with the silly and endless debates about who was greatest — who deserved the service and applause of everyone around them. He came to serve, to give his life as a ransom for the many, to put on a waiter's towel and stoop down and wash away our sins with his very life-blood.
When it comes to hitting home runs in the kingdom of salvation, only Christ wears the title of designated hitter. Only he has stepped up to the plate, and forsaking all glory, won for us — and for an entire lawless, self-seeking world — the name gifted to us at the baptismal font: believing, faithful, God-pleasing child of heaven.
Put your faith in Christ and his Word spoken over you at the font, spoken over you through the prophets and apostles, spoken over his table, over bread and wine through which he forgives and strengthens.
It took something truly great to change the disciples' endless debates about who among them was the greatest and most glorious. And it takes something truly miraculous to change our old nature's fascination to look into the mirror and ask, "Who's the fairest one of all?" It takes a plunge into Christ's death and resurrection. It takes a daily drowning of that nature we drag around with us, that a new nature would arise — a Christ-like nature that serves our neighbor, even the neighbor we find it so difficult to care for.
It was the Lutheran pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer who once said, "When Christ calls a man, he bids him to come and die."
May Christ continue his great and mighty work of drowning our sin, and brining forth a new nature that serves those God places into our lives - for their sake.
In the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
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