tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-44016201550252052572024-02-19T03:07:20.841-05:00Walking the Lonely WayThe sermons, newsletter articles, and theological musings of a Lutheran pastorPastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.comBlogger451125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-64670796864667752992017-10-13T10:49:00.002-04:002017-10-13T10:49:55.007-04:00Trinity 17 (Proverbs 25:6-14)<div class="MsoNormal">
“Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this evening comes from the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the twenty-fifth chapter of the book of Proverbs, summarized by the last words of Jesus in our Gospel lesson. Dear friends in Christ: it was just recently that I heard the commercial, advertising adult education through a major university. The spokeswoman first talked about convenient hours and practical classes, but then she gave the punch line: “This is the education I deserve.” The education she deserves. That was the hook, intended to grab the listener, and I have no doubt that it was very effective. We like being told that we deserve things, from a good education, to a well-paying job, to an attractive spouse. Yes, of course I deserve those good things! We like to demand our rights; indeed, the Constitution of our nation could only be ratified if the framers attached a Bill of Rights. We are always looking for the slightest offense, the most minor infringement on our perceived ‘rights,’ and we will pounce, verbally or legally. Rights become a weapon, a bludgeon to beat down others, a tool of our selfish pride to get our own way, and the courts invent new rights nearly every day. We think we deserve certain things, we have a right to them, and therefore we expect others to give them to us.<br /><br />The devil, the world, and our sinful flesh preach pride, pride which demands what we deserve, our ‘rights.’ But what we find is that not everyone indulges the proud. “Do not put yourself forward in the king’s presence or stand in the place of the great, for it is better to be told, ‘Come up here,’ than to be put lower in the presence of a noble.” ‘Pride goes before the fall.’ We’ve all heard that saying, but we don’t really believe it. We still jockey for position, not necessarily before any kings and nobles, but before employers and friends, at the dinner table and at church meetings. We desire for others to give us what we deserve, to look at us as highly as we look at ourselves. And we take this same attitude with our God, demanding that He give us what we deserve. Our default setting is pride, we seek our own honor, but Solomon teaches us that one who exalts himself will be forcibly humbled, before men and before God. What honor do you have before God? What good is it to exalt yourself before the One who knows you inside and out, who knows your every sin, who is jealous for the glory of His Name?<br /><br />Jesus didn’t seek His own honor, He didn’t ask for what He deserved. The perfectly innocent Son of God deserved all the honor and glory that men and God could give. Instead, He received a cross. As Paul states, “Being found in human form, He humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” Christ humbled Himself before God and man, even unto a death He didn’t deserve. He submitted to the Father’s will for you and for me; for those trapped in pride He humbled Himself, and then was told to ‘Come up here,’ as He was exalted to the right hand of God.<br /><br />We would not have endured such injustice upon us. Indeed, we hardly endure any injustice; we demand our rights and we are ready to take any to court who violate them. But once again, pride goes before the fall. “What your eyes have seen do not hastily bring into court, for what will you do in the end, when your neighbor puts you to shame?” The one who quickly goes to court may find himself not only disappointed, but humiliated and embarrassed. “Argue your case with your neighbor yourself, and do not reveal another’s secret, lest he who hears you bring shame upon you, and your ill repute have no end.” The one who tries to gain an edge by revealing secrets will have the reputation of a gossip who cannot be trusted, and just as surely as if you hung a sign around your neck, “your ill repute will have no end.” Rights are good things, I suppose, useful to protect us from each other, but we shouldn’t kid ourselves that the concept is Christian. What rights do you have before God? What do you deserve from Him?<br /><br />What you have a ‘right’ to is death, what you ‘deserve’ is hell; we shouldn’t be too quick to demand what we think we deserve, for God’s holy Law tells us what we deserve: eternal judgment. Jesus didn’t deserve God’s judgment or man’s judgment. He was sent to Pilate without a fair trial, then judged before the governor with a mob exerting pressure. But He didn’t demand His rights, He didn’t ask for what He deserved, He asked for what you deserve, He took your sinful pride upon Himself. He didn’t protest the injustice done upon Him, but instead fulfilled the Scripture: “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth.”<br /><br />We would’ve protested, we would’ve opened our mouths. The injunction of Jesus to “turn the other cheek” is frequently quoted, but rarely followed. We don’t want to be corrected or called to repentance. Instead, the itching ears of pride listen to voices which promise much and deliver little. These voices call on you to demand your own rights, to claim that education, that job, that position, that spouse, that vacation that you deserve. Solomon calls such preachers empty and worthless. “Like clouds and wind without rain is a man who boasts of a gift he does not give.” Nothing that the preachers of pride promise will last, and most of what they claim to give never materializes in the first place. But while our pride refuses to hear correction or reproof, in the eyes of God, those who speak the words that call us to repentance are the most valuable treasures in the world. “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver. Like a gold ring or an ornament of gold is a wise reproof to a listening ear.”<br /><br />These voices, these preachers of repentance, may not promise you the world, they may not stroke your pride, they may not give you what you think you deserve or are owed. In fact, they are going to call on you to die, to lay down your pride in humble repentance. They will call on you to give up on your rights, to forget about what you claim to deserve; a painful killing of pride is called for. They will preach God’s Law to humble you, to put you in your place. But the one who in repentance humbles himself before God will find the words of our text to be true. They will be told, by God Himself, “Come up here.” As Jesus says, “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.”<br /><br /> You see, pride goes before the fall, but humility goes before exaltation. The messengers that Christ sends out to kill your pride are a precious treasure, the words on their lips more valuable than any gold or silver, because they proclaim the glory that Christ won for you. You didn’t deserve it, you don’t have a ‘right’ to it, but it is given to you as a gift, full and free, a gift won by Jesus. You have been struggling in the heat of pride, trying to exalt yourself, to demand your own rights, struggling to crawl to the top of whatever social or business ladder you are on. Repent, and hear of Jesus’ treasure for you as a drink of cool water that satisfies forever. “Like the cold of snow in the time of harvest is a faithful messenger to those who send him; he refreshes the souls of his masters.” In the heat of harvest in northern Israel, a generous master would send servants to the mountains to carry down snow for his parched workers. You dwell in the desert of pride; repent and hear the Gospel, receive the cool water of Christ’s victory for you.<br /><br />)If anyone had a right to be proud, it was Jesus, but He laid down all of His rights for you. He made Himself humble even to the point of death, dying for you and me, trapped in the bondage of pride, dying to forgive your sins, to release your bonds. He laid down His life into death, humiliating Himself before God and men, knowing that He would be exalted, knowing that His Father would say to Him, “Come up here.” You live with that same confidence. You have no need to demand your rights, to seek what people tell you that you deserve; you have exaltation coming, not deserved, but gift. On the Last Day, the Father will say to you what He said to Jesus: “Come up here,” and you will take your given place in the King’s presence forevermore. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.</div>
Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-74203469175861102022017-10-03T21:17:00.002-04:002017-10-03T21:17:26.986-04:00Trinity 16 (Luke 17:11-17)“Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has arisen among us!’ and ‘God has visited His people!’” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the seventh chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ, it is the characteristic and nature of our sinful human flesh that we seek help and comfort from other places—any other place!—than God. It is only when we have nowhere else to turn, when we have exhausted every other means that we have available to us, that we actually turn to God. Only when we have tried everything else do we come to God, unless, of course, we simply despair, or worse, curse God and turn away from Him, taking our grief as evidence that God has abandoned us. If we believe that there is no God, or if we believe that God hates us, we then grieve, as Saint Paul says, “without hope.” I have seen people grieve without hope. It is a terrible, alarming thing. I have seen people collapse, screaming before an open grave, I have seen those who cannot leave the coffin, who refuse to leave, who watch their loved one lowered into the ground. They cannot let go, they cannot handle it, they are grieving without hope. That is our nature, to seek help and comfort from any other place than God, but none of those places can comfort, none of those places can help, they only bring despair and never-ending grief.<br /><br />Two processions met each other outside of the city gates of Nain; one coming out and one coming in. One followed a coffin, one followed Jesus. The first is a funeral procession: “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.” I’m sure that all of you have seen a funeral procession, and many of you have been in one. Just a quick aside: in the city of Lincoln, there are no police escorts, no blocking of traffic; the funeral procession is on its own. I know you have places to be, but I beg you, please be courteous, yield to these grieving people, and take a moment to pray for them. For every funeral procession is a reminder, a reminder that you and I are part of one right now, indeed, every day of our lives. We are all following the coffin.<br /><br />Our life in this world is a constant, daily walk toward death until the Last Day. One after another is always dying off, and we are busy with our life of suffering, as some carry others to the grave, and we, day after day, follow along. We bring death with us from the womb; we all have in common that we will one day die. We all walk this road, except we are at different stages, someone is always getting ahead of us, and we all follow him or her, until it comes down to the last one. We pretend that it isn’t so, we try our hardest to avoid death, expending money and time and energy to defeat it, we try everything that our human ingenuity can devise, but the wages of sin is death, and death therefore reigns over all, for all have sinned. Death always wins, and one day you will be at the head of your own procession, but for now, you follow.<br /><br />Immediately behind the coffin is a woman, a woman, Luke tells us, who has lost her only son, and she was already a widow. Even though God’s holy Law calls for the provision of the poor, she is looking toward a life of abject poverty, without aid or comfort, a life that would often lead women with less moral fiber to prostitution. To all appearances, the wrath and hatred of God rests upon her. We have a knack for understanding our world simply by what we see, judging by appearances. We look at this widow and her son, we look at any who lie in a coffin or follow, weeping, behind one, as if they are under God’s curse. But that is not how a Christian judges. A Christian speaks about what is invisible, a Christian knows that appearances are deceiving. God sometimes sends suffering equally on both the wicked and the righteous; indeed, He even lets the wicked prosper and have success while it seems that He is angry with the righteous and hates them. No doubt it seems that He is siding with the wicked and persecuting the righteous, but appearances are deceiving: help is coming.<br /><br />When suffering comes, we feel hemmed in, it seems that all is lost; God wants us to see that there is no way out on our own. No matter what we think or do, no matter what efforts we expend, we can find no way out, we are encircled. Someone who is starving or poor and knows that they have food or money hidden away somewhere still can trust in themselves. But when someone is completely helpless and powerless, when every prop has been kicked away, then we have nowhere else to turn, then all of our own devices have failed, and we cannot find the solution in ourselves. Then we must look outside of ourselves, and behold, help comes!<br /><br />“Soon afterward Jesus went to a town called Nain, and His disciples and a great crowd went with Him.” Jesus doesn’t come out of the city following death, a sinner subject to death like any one of us. No, He comes into this world as the only human being who ever lived who had no fear of death, for He had no sin; therefore, He comes leading a procession of victory, not defeat, joy, not grief. He is not under death’s power, but He steps into death’s view and takes His stand against it as one who has power over it. First, He gives comfort, He proclaims His coming victory. “And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her and said to her, ‘Do not weep.’” His words, His actions, were motivated by compassion, the same compassion that led Him to take flesh in the first place, the same compassion that always moves Him to action. Weeping is not evil; indeed, Jesus Himself wept at the grave of Lazarus, but with this command He is pointing this woman and us all to an age to come when weeping will be no more, and He is declaring that He is about to take her grief away.<br /><br />“Then He came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still.” He does the unthinkable, stopping the procession, making Himself unclean. But He has come into this world precisely to take away uncleanness, to stop the procession of death forever. “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.” With one word, one command, Jesus changes this procession of death into a wonderful, beautiful, rejoicing procession of life. The grave, the coffin, the grief are forgotten and left behind. All that remains is joy and gladness, and they go to transform a town in mourning to a place of joy.<br /><br />The people understand, at least in part, what has happened; they rejoice and praise God with the language of salvation from the Old Testament. “Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, ‘A great prophet has arisen among us!’ and ‘God has visited His people!’ And the report about Him spread throughout the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country.” A great prophet has indeed arisen among them, one who walks in the footsteps of Elijah in our Old Testament lesson, the prophet promised by Moses. But He is more than simply another of God’s prophets. In Him, in this Jesus, God truly has visited His people, He has come to them in a way that He never had before, this time bearing their flesh and blood. And while Elijah raised the dead through the power of God, He had not ability to defeat it. Jesus comes to defeat death.<br /><br />Whenever death challenged Jesus, whenever it took Him on, He did not shrink away, but He met death and accepted its challenge. He even willingly gave Himself into death’s ugly jaws. Elijah never died, but Jesus did. He suffered more than this widow, or any of us, could imagine, for He suffered not for His own sins, but for yours and mine, for the sin of the world. He died, as you will one day, and He was placed into the ground, your destination. But the raising of the widow’s son was a preview, a prediction of His greatest miracle, for He who raised the dead outside of Nain was Himself raised never to die again, and He was raised to give comfort and hope to all who mourn, to give comfort and hope to you. For because He died bearing your sin, those sins, past, present, and future, have no hold on you, and if your sins no longer count against you, then death cannot hold you. As the boy was raised, as Jesus was raised, so you too will be raised.<br /><br /> The grave cannot hold any who belong to Christ. He is the Lord of both life and death, He comes to us as we follow in the dreary procession of death and proclaims Himself as the One who has come to blot out death and bring life and immortality to light. An hour is coming when He will bring to completion the work previewed by Elijah in our Old Testament lesson, previewed by Christ Himself in our Gospel lesson, the work that He began with His own resurrection, as the firstfruit of life. On that Day, this work will begin, and it won’t only be on one person, but once and for all, and all who believe in Him will rise to live eternally in the new heavens and the new earth. On that Day, there will be a beautiful, glorious procession; all the saints will be called with a word from the dust of the earth, and led into the city, the New Jerusalem, with Jesus at their head. The procession of death will be no more, it will be forgotten in the joy of life. He will transfer you out of death into life and wipe away every tear from your eyes. The commands He gave in our text will be directed at you: “Do not weep.” “I say to you, arise!” <br /><br />So even if we are stuck in the jaws of death, mourning the death of a loved one, or facing our own journey to the grave, we know that in Christ we have victory over death, and therefore only life. Faith grasps and clings to what it cannot be seen, even when we see only the opposite. We do not grieve as others do, who have no hope. We do not put our trust in the things of this world, the methods of men, to save us from death. Our trust, our faith, our hope, yes, even our grief, is in Jesus, who conquered death by giving Himself into its belly, by forcing it to swallow a poison pill that it cannot endure. Christ is risen, and death is overcome. Christ is risen, and the victory is yours. Christ is risen, and you will rise too. In His Name, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-13883459807425523052017-10-03T21:15:00.001-04:002017-10-03T21:22:18.541-04:00Trinity 14 (Proverbs 4:10-23)“My son, be attentive to my words; incline your ear to my sayings... For they are life to those who find them, and healing to all their flesh.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the fourth chapter of the book of Proverbs. Dear friends in Christ: Who is teaching our children? Right away there seems to be a problem; you would expect me to say, ‘Who is teaching your children?’ Maybe you are single, maybe you are still in college, or a child yourself, maybe the Lord never gave you the gift of a child. There may be no children that you can call your own. But that’s not what I asked. Who is teaching our children? Our children? One of the greatest problems in congregational life today is that we see ourselves as a collection of individuals, not as a community of faith, gathered here together for the good of our neighbors, with responsibility toward one another. The children of this congregation are our common responsibility; we together as the body of Christ are to see that they are raised in the faith. Indeed, that’s what we say whenever a child is baptized at this font, if our words are not empty and false: “We receive you in Jesus’ name as our brother or sister in Christ, that together we might hear His Word, receive His gifts, and proclaim the praises of Him who called us out of darkness into His marvelous light.”<br />
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Who is teaching our children? The Bible has an answer that is clear, and it is implied in the first words of our text. “Hear, my son, and accept my words, that the years of your life may be many.” The way of wisdom is to be taught in the home, it is to be passed on from generation to generation. In fact, God even gives us a commandment to drive this point home: “Honor your father and your mother.” Martin Luther begins every part of the Small Catechism with these words, “As the head of the family should teach in a simple way to his household.” Who is the head of the family? In normal circumstances, where sin has not wreaked havoc on this order, it is the husband and father. Who should teach our children? Fathers, first and foremost. Part of being a man, a husband, a father, is to ensure that your children are raised in the faith. Studies have consistently shown that when fathers bring children to church, the chances are tremendously higher that those children will become regular churchgoers than if the father is absent from worship. This fact isn’t meant to discourage mothers who faithfully bring their children to church, is meant to call on fathers to be men, to man up and take the responsibility that God has given to them.<br />
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But this fact doesn’t excuse the rest of us. These are our children, and we all should be concerned about our children. We are to encourage and exhort parents to teach the faith in the home, giving them the resources they need, we are to teach young men how to be heads of their households, how to man up. Who is to teach our children? We as a congregation, the body of Christ in this place, are to supplement the teaching of the faith that occurs at home. That’s why we have Sunday School and confirmation instruction, and that’s why we have a day school and pre-school, to exhort children as Solomon does in our text: “Keep hold of instruction; do not let go; guard her, for she is your life.” Parents are free to ask other churches, or the government, to educate their children, but if our school isn’t the first option considered—and it clearly isn’t—then our congregation needs to do some hard thinking, for we together, not just the school board, not just the staff, but all of us, have a responsibility to make our school the primary place where the children entrusted to our congregation can be set on the path of wisdom.<br />
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For there are others who seek to teach our children, and wherever our children receive their education, there are many seeking to set our children on the path of the wicked. “Do not enter the path of the wicked, and do not walk in the way of the evil. Avoid it; do not go on it; turn away from it and pass on.” Who is teaching our children? Those in power. Those who control the levers of government education, those who produce the television programs and movies that our children consume, those who are rich and famous. It is no sin to ask the government to educate your child, or to turn on your television at night, but we cannot do so naively, without knowing what our children are taught and countering any falsehood with the truth of God’s Word. “I have taught you the way of wisdom; I have led you in the paths of uprightness. When you walk, your step will not be hampered, and if you run, you will not stumble.” <br />
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If you think that our children can be taught that sex is recreation—only be safe!—that the world came into being through chance, or that gender is fluid and has no connection to biology, and that these teachings will have no effect on the faith given to them in their baptism, repent. If you think that an hour a week, or less, of Christianity can counterbalance countless hours of the world’s education, repent. If you think that by sending your child to a Christian school—even our school!—your task of raising your child in the faith is complete, repent. Repent, dear friends, repent, for we are sending our children out as sheep among wolves, and we are neglecting our duty to prepare them for a world that hates them and hates Christ. Repent, for often the last thing we look at when considering colleges for our children is where they will go to church. Repent, for we have made sports—watching and playing—an idol to which we will even sacrifice the salvation of our children. Repent.<br />
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The devil wants our children to stumble; he wants them to falter and fall. He presents to them a wide and easy road, shrouded in darkness. He doesn’t want them to know that they stumble, he simply wants them addicted to sin. “For they cannot sleep unless they have done wrong; they are robbed of sleep unless they have made someone stumble. For they eat the bread of wickedness and drink the wine of violence.” The devil wants our children to stumble, to leave the faith. He is a master of a thousand arts; he simply changes tactics. He doesn’t care where you send your children to be educated, he just wants them to stumble.<br />
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But do not fear, dear friends. There is another power in this world, who has already overcome the devil with all of his wiles. He has put Satan under His feet, crushing the serpent’s head upon the cross. It is He who guides His children on the path of life. It is He who marked His children, our children, with the sign of the holy cross on the day of their baptism, who made them His own and will neither leave them nor forsake them. The way of wisdom, the path of righteousness, is not simply a moral code, a path of right and wrong. It is the path of salvation, the path of the cross. “My son, be attentive to my words; incline your ear to my sayings. Let them not escape from your sight; keep them within your heart. For they are life to those who find them, and healing to all their flesh.” His words are life only if they are the words of the Gospel, the words of the cross, Jesus’ death in our place. A moral and upright life cannot save us, for we always stumble, we enter the path of wickedness day by day. No, His words are life because they give us healing from our sin. As the prophet declares in Isaiah fifty-three: “But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed.” It is the wounds of Jesus that heal us; He was pierced for our negligence of the children entrusted to us, as parents or as a congregation, He was pierced for when we prioritize other things above the salvation of our youth. He was pierced for your every transgression, and with His wounds you are healed.<br />
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Who is teaching our children? Jesus. Jesus teaches His children the path of righteousness, the path of the Gospel, pouring out upon them the grace that He won for them on Calvary’s cross. That is what He does here in this place, bestowing His grace upon us and upon them, forgiving our every sin and reassuring us of our identity as His children. It is He who leads us on a path without stumbling; the words of our text are not really the words of Solomon after all, but the words of the One who suffered and died for you, who suffered and died for our children. “When you walk, your step will not be hampered, and if you run, you will not stumble.” It is Jesus who gave us the faith, who died for us, who baptized us into His Name, but He doesn’t leave us to our own devices after we leave the font. No, it is He who keeps us from stumbling, who leads us on the paths of righteousness, who gives us a way bathed in His light. “The path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day.” When the Light of the World dwells in us, then we can see the path, and the darkness is driven away. We will not stumble nor fall, because on His path, there is only Jesus, Jesus and His body, the Church.<br />
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Who is teaching our children? The beautiful message of the Gospel is that while the children given to us as parents or as a congregation are ‘ours’ in a very real sense, they are even more truly His. They are His children, as you are His children, and He will fight for them. Yes, He does so through you, and He gives you a solemn charge and responsibility toward our children, but the responsibility for His children ultimately lies with Him, they are His. You cannot save another, even one of our children; thanks be to God, that is the work of Jesus. He died for them, as He died for you, He forgives them, and He forgives you, and He has a place in heaven for them, as He has prepared a place for you. He is your life, and He is your healing, forever. In His Name, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-13984009834138095042017-08-30T13:43:00.000-04:002017-08-30T13:43:06.121-04:00Genesis 2:4-7, 15-25“And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the second chapter of the book of Genesis. Dear friends in Christ, in his epic poem Paradise Lost, John Milton describes two acts of marital love between Adam and Eve. The first is just a night or two before the Fall, and Milton, in beautiful verse, praises what God has given as gift: “Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, true source of human offspring, sole propriety in Paradise of all things common else!” There, the marital union is as natural and good as breathing, a beautiful expression of love. But then, many chapters later, after they have fallen into sin, their first deed, after blaming each other, is to return to the marriage bed, however, in a much different way. Milton writes, “He on Eve began to cast lascivious eyes; she him as wantonly repaid; in lust they burn.” And they take each other, no longer in pure love, but in carnal lust, driven by passions now corrupted by sin. The message is clear: the Fall can be no better understood than in the perversion of man’s relationship with woman; even the lawful union of husband and wife is corrupted and poisoned, they are no longer naked and without shame, they are naked and filled with shame. Much has changed; indeed, everything has changed.<br /><br />Woman was given to man as gift, indeed the highest gift of His creation, to be honored above all save the Creator Himself. “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh,” Adam cries, “She shall be called Woman, because she was taken out of Man.” She is man’s helper, to save him from his loneliness, to fulfill with him God’s command to be fruitful and multiply, to fill the earth and subdue it. He cannot be without her; humanity is incomplete without woman, “it is not good for the man to be alone.” She is the one corresponding to him, alike, yet unlike, they fit together in every way like a puzzle, completing one another, the two halves of humanity, the two eyes through which God’s greatest creation looks on the world. She is morally equal, an equal member of humanity, with equal worth before man, equal standing before God, yet she is placed in an order, with man as her head, her provider, her protector and she in submission, as receiver and bearer of life. As she was taken from man, so she will return to man, and the two will become one flesh again. She is his gift, and he receives her as gift in love.<br /><br />But no longer. As Milton so dramatically illustrates, man now takes woman, and woman takes man, in lust, even within God-ordained marriage, man and woman are naked and should be ashamed. The trouble is, they are naked and so often feel no shame. And it is no surprise that if lust fills the marriage bed, that it would then spill out into other relations, that adultery and fornication would become common, that even greater perversions would result. The Fall ruins all. Woman is an equal member of humanity, but now she seizes on that equality to subvert God’s order. She seeks man’s headship in the home, in the Church, in society, and man either abdicates his role as head or uses it to tyrannize those whom God has given as gift. Man no longer receives woman as a helper, but as a slave or as a slavemaster, and woman no longer wants to help, but to be the head. <br /><br />You can speak quite eloquently against cohabitation and fornication of all kinds, you can argue against the acceptance of homosexuality and the erasure of gender, but the root of all these corruptions is the same sin that fills you, that even perverts your marriage bed. You are no different in God’s eyes from those whom you condemn; your lust, whether it leads to action or not, is the root and source of all the corruptions that we rightly deplore. You can declare God’s order and argue against women’s ordination with the best of them, but you do so not out of a concern for God’s order, but from a desire for power, the same desire for power that has led women to seek the headship of men and men to treat women as sub-human. Women, you seek the authority God has given to men; repent! Men, you cover your desire for power with pious-sounding words; repent! You can puff out your chest and say, ‘The LCMS needs to repent!’ Certainly, our church body needs repentance, but so often we say this to avoid our own need to repent. Our time together this week is not an opportunity for self-righteousness, but for repentance, each one of us.<br /><br />Repent and hear the Gospel. The Gospel is that woman is a gift, and not just a gift of creation. She is a gift through which God will bring forth salvation when man falls; from her womb will spring forth a line that will culminate in the One who will crush the serpent’s foul head. When God gave woman to man as his helper, little did Adam know that she was not just a savior from loneliness, but through her would come the Savior from sin. From generation to generation, every act of procreation in the promised line, as taineted as it may have been, was for the purpose of salvation, bringing humanity’s Savior ever closer. And when the time had fully come, man didn’t participate, but it was in the womb of a woman where God miraculously conceived the Messiah, God in the flesh, brought forth of woman alone. The second Eve, Mary, fulfilled woman’s task as helper, sent by God for this very purpose, to bring Jesus Christ, our Savior, into the world. <br /><br />And this Jesus went forth and resisted every temptation, the temptation to lust, the temptation to tyrannize, the temptation to subvert God’s order. He honored and taught women, but He did not lust after them, He did not make them apostles. And as the women wept, He gave up His life into death for you, for me, for all. His death for your sins; He who didn’t lust after anyone, died for all your lust, He who never subverted God’s order, died for your desire for power. He died for your every sin, and when He rose again on the third day, it was the women who once again fulfilled their role as helper, not preaching, but taking the message of Christ’s victory to the apostles so they could take it into the world.<br /><br />Through the apostles, the Bridegroom sought you out and made you His own, incorporating you into the salvation that He won. The Bridegroom sought out His bride, you, along with all of fallen humanity, and laid down His life for her. She had fallen into sinful adultery, idolatry that could only lead to death, she was destined to return to the dust. But Jesus laid Himself into the dust for His bride, He gave up the breath of life that was God’s first gift only to breathe again on the third day and rise up from the dust of death to make His people alive. He calls on all who are naked without shame to see their sin and repent, and He calls on all who are naked and ashamed to hear the Gospel. He sought you out in your sin, a walking corpse, destined to give up the breath of life and return to the dust, and He made you alive, giving you a new birth in water and the Word. You are His bride, and He the bridegroom, and the order of creation which we receive as Law is a picture of the Gospel: Christ the head of His redeemed, saved, purified body, the Church.<br /><br />That’s why we fight to preserve the order of creation, within ourselves through daily repentance and in the world through our confession, because it gives us a picture of salvation, it points us and the entire world to the Gospel. Every perversion of the marital union, every attack on our creation as male and female, every perversion of God’s order, is not just a corruption of the Law, it is an attack on the Gospel. In response, the Church, who is the Bride, holds forth the beauty of marriage and the marital union, she declares woman as gift and highly exalts her in her role as helper and receiver in God’s good order, and she encourages men to take their place as provider and head. The Bride condemns perversions of God’s Word, and she also holds up the beauty of what God created and how He set all things in proper, wonderful order, all in service of the proclamation of the Gospel. For the Bridegroom has come for His bride, and He calls on all to take that honored place as His body, receiving protection and provision from He who is our head. He promises the removal of all shame, a restoration of the paradise we lost. There we will stand as Christ’s bride, living forever in these words: “And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed.” In the Name of Jesus, our Bridegroom, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-85678433793468351832017-08-30T13:09:00.003-04:002017-08-30T13:09:45.697-04:00Tenth Sunday after Trinity (1 Corinthians 12:1-11)“Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the first letter of Saint Paul to the Church of God in Corinth. Dear friends in Christ: What is more important, diversity or unity? I could hardly have picked a more explosive question. If you want to see some excitement, just drop this hand-grenade into a faculty forum at a major university, or a newsroom staff meeting, or onto the floor of Congress, then quietly (and quickly) walk away. How you answer this question puts a label on you, liberal or conservative, Republican or Democrat, but the debate isn’t that simple. Both sides of the aisle call for unity, the differences come in how diversity plays into that unity, and what kind of diversity we’re talking about; there the debate lines are drawn. But this question is certainly not restricted to the secular realm. Foundational to the debates that rock Christianity in general, and our church body in particular, is the question: How much diversity in practice can we tolerate while still remaining unified in confession? That question is the key to the worship wars, to debates over the role of women in the church, to arguments over communion practice, to division of almost any kind.<br /><br />What is more important, diversity or unity? Saint Paul has as much to say about our political and social debates over diversity and unity as the book of Daniel has to say about dieting—that is, absolutely nothing. But he may have something to say about the similar debates in the Church, and his solution is quite simple: diversity flows from, and is in service of, our unity. Both diversity and unity are important, but the center of gravity is always found in our unity, unity in the one Spirit who gives all good gifts to Christ’s Church, gifts given in diversity to individuals for the service of the whole.<br /><br />You see, Saint Paul cannot conceive of a congregation that isn’t diverse. Not necessarily ethnically diverse, though that will certainly be the case as the Gospel goes out to the four corners of the world. That kind of diversity is only skin deep—the great message of the Gospel is that Jesus died and rose for all, every nation, tribe, language, and race, and such outward diversity really means nothing when it comes to salvation and the gifts of the Church. No, Paul is thinking of the diversity that still exists among brothers and sisters in Christ, that isn’t abolished by the common call of the Gospel, the diversity that comes when the Spirit gathers a variety of individuals into a congregation and gives to each different gifts. Not everyone is given the same gift, and not everyone is given gifts in the same measure. The differences can be vast from one Christian to another. He gives us just a taste of what these gifts might be: “To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the ability to distinguish between spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues.”<br /><br />That’s a pretty impressive list, with some incredible gifts. But the list isn’t the point. If you leave this sermon thinking that you need to go take a spiritual gift inventory, or that you need to find a congregation where people still do miracles, heal, and speak in tongues, you are falling into exactly the trap that Saint Paul is warning about. The time of the incredible, extraordinary manifestations of the Spirit came to a close nineteen centuries ago. Those gifts were for the age of the apostles, the first decades of the Church, and we are not to expect them any longer. Indeed, it isn’t even Paul’s intention for us to match ourselves with some list of spiritual gifts at all. Instead, Paul wants us to recognize that we all have been given different gifts, with this key: “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.”<br /><br />The common good. That’s what spiritual gifts are for. The Spirit gives them in diversity for the good of all. A congregation that is filled with people gifted in exactly the same way is woefully deficient. Only a body of believers who has a variety of gifts can supply what others lack, the assembly of Christians can then fit together like a puzzle, or to use more Biblical imagery, we can be built together as a house, or live, move, and have being as a body. Each part is necessary, and each part supplies something the others don’t have, something essential. No matter what gifts the Spirit has given you, no matter in what proportion He has given them, they are for the good of the Body of Christ, the Church universal, and for your fellow believers.<br /><br />All gifts, in their wondrous diversity, have their unity in their source: the Spirit who gives them. He gives the foundational gift, the gift from which all others flow, the gift of faith. “I want you to understand that no one speaking in the Spirit of God ever says ‘Jesus be accursed!’ and no one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except in the Holy Spirit.” There is no room for looking down on any in the Church as if they are sub-Christian or even non-Christian because they don’t seem to have much (or anything) in the way of spiritual gifts. The fundamental, foundational, vitally important spiritual gift is the gift of faith, faith which confesses Jesus as Lord. No other gift is possible without this one, and every other gift is secondary next to it. This gift makes you a part of the body, this gift makes you fit building material for the house. You cannot be saved without it, for the forgiveness of sins, won by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, is received only by faith, and faith is only given through the Spirit.<br /><br />Mute idols can make no one speak, nor can the dead make themselves alive, but the Spirit has come to you and done both; He has raised you up in Christ’s resurrection and He has given you faith to confess your Savior’s holy Name. Jesus died for all, every nation, tribe, language, and race; all humanity, despite our diversity, is unified in two facts: we are all sinners, and Jesus died for us. And all Christians, despite our diversity in spiritual gifts, are unified in this single fact: the Holy Spirit has created faith within us through the Word and the Sacraments, and we are members of the kingdom of God, brothers and sisters of each other, brothers and sisters of Christ. There is our unity, given in this one spiritual gift, the one that comes before all others: the gift of faith.<br /><br />No other spiritual gift saves, no other spiritual gift brings you Jesus, every other gift is for the common good of the body, they do not make you Christians, but this one does. So there is no room for bragging or boasting in the Church, there is no room for looking down on others with regard to spiritual gifts. In common, we have the greatest spiritual gift, faith, which delivers to us Christ’s blood-bought treasures, and then every other gift is exactly that—a gift!—for the good of the body of Christ. “Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone.” Spiritual gifts are not ours at all, they are gifts entrusted to our use, and they are for the good of the Body of Christ. That’s why the Spirit gave them. The Corinthians held some gifts more highly than others (speaking in tongues!) and looked down on others who had more ‘boring’ gifts, or didn’t seem to have much in the way of gifts at all. Their life as a congregation was a competition to see who was more ‘filled with the Spirit’ than others.<br /><br />Brothers and sisters, this should not be! “All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as He wills.” The Spirit is interested in diversity, in variety, and He determines how he will give the gifts; it is not human choice, individually or as a congregation, that gives out spiritual gifts. That is the task of the Spirit, and He does this for a specific purpose. “To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good.” It is not our Church, it is not our congregation, it is Christ’s Church, His congregation, and He has sent the Spirit first to deliver His forgiveness in our midst, and then to give the spiritual gifts necessary for the building up of His Body in this specific place and around the world.<br /><br />So there is no need to take an inventory, but it is worth thinking about how the Spirit has blessed you with certain gifts and how those gifts may be used in service of the common good, for the building up of the Body of Christ. These gifts always serve the good of the whole, and thus are never for our own personal use, or to be exercised apart from God’s Word. Someone who thinks that they have the gift of preaching should first consult Scripture’s qualifications for a pastor and then, if qualified, seek the Church’s order of putting a man into the office of preaching. In the same way, we can have diversity in practice only if such diversity doesn’t threaten the unity of our confession founded on the truth of God’s Word. Diversity must serve unity. Our variety of gifts are to be used for the good of others in accord with God’s Word.<br /><br />So what is more important, diversity or unity? Throughout our text there is a pattern, a cadence, between diversity and unity, but in every case, the emphasis is on the latter: the same Spirit, the same Lord, the same God. The diversity that we find in the Church flows from what unites us: our common confession that ‘Jesus is Lord,’ the Holy Spirit’s gift of faith, the death and resurrection of Jesus in our place and on our behalf, the same Triune God to which we now belong. The blessed diversity that we find in the Church serves the unity of the whole, the common good. Diversity serves unity, it never rules over it, for we all have one Scripture, one Lord, one faith, one Baptism, one Jesus who died for us, one Jesus who rose for us, one Jesus whom we confess as Lord by the one Holy Spirit who gives us every good gift. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-49317299049314051962017-08-11T10:16:00.002-04:002017-08-11T10:16:51.404-04:00Eighth Sunday after Trinity (Romans 8:12-17)“You did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this evening is the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the eighth chapter of Paul’s letter to the Church of God in Rome. Dear friends in Christ, we are debtors. We owe someone something. You can’t avoid it; you stand in someone’s debt, the question is, who will that be? “So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh.” What do we owe our sinful flesh? What did it ever do for us? It held us in bondage, separated us from God and other people, and promised us great things while delivering only death. We don’t owe the flesh anything. We are not in its debt any longer; it used to have a claim on us, because we were chained to it, living in its bondage, but no more. We have been saved. Jesus, the stronger man, came, and robbed the strong man’s house. Whatever we owed to our sinful flesh He paid, dying our death in our place. He killed our sinful flesh when He dunked us under the baptismal waters. If we are debtors to anyone, we are debtors to Him. Not that we owe Him anything to pay for our release—the price has been paid—instead, having been released, we live under Him as His debtors in grateful love.<br /><br />However, the flesh keeps knocking, it keeps calling for our allegiance, it keeps asking for its bills to be paid. The flesh wants us to believe that we are still in bondage, it wants to keep us in slavery. In fact, Saint Paul calls our sinful flesh the ‘spirit of slavery.’ “You did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” Like an unwelcome houseguest that you just can’t get to leave, the spirit of slavery hangs around even after you have been released from his bondage. The spirit of slavery calls for our obedience, it wants us to think that we are still in chains. Even though we have been set free, even though the chains have been removed by the work of Christ, the spirit of slavery wants us to return to our cells and put the chains back on. And the remarkable thing is, we actually do it. Day after day, we, who have been set free from sin, put ourselves back into its bondage. We willingly, openly, put the chains back on and settle into our cold, hard, cells. We believe this lie, this ridiculous lie, that slavery is freedom.<br /><br />This is the message trumpeted forth in every corner of our world: slavery is freedom. The world claims that living in sin is actually freedom, that doing what your sinful flesh wants is freeing. This is most often spoken of with regard to sexual sins—free love, sexual liberation, ‘I’m free to do what I want with my body’—but the same lie is told about every sin. The spirit of slavery claims that it’s the ‘Christians’ who are actually repressive, that the Bible wants to put you in chains. This even finds its way into the Church, where the freedom of the Gospel is used to excuse or cover for living in the bondage of sin. It doesn’t make any sense, but people believe it, and you, who have been set free, fall for it all the time. Repent! “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” Sin enslaves, as any addict can tell you, it grabs onto you and controls your life. Indulging in sin is putting the chains around your ankles and making sure they’re nice and tight. The end of these things is death; that is all that the flesh can give you, and Paul is quite clear that the freedom of the Gospel is not the freedom to do whatever you want, to live however you want. The freedom of the Gospel is exactly that, freedom from sin and its bondage.<br /><br />For we have been given another spirit, not the spirit of slavery, to return to our chains, but the Spirit of adoption. “All who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.” Our status has changed dramatically. We were born into slavery, chained to sin by virtue of our birth as sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. We had no choice, that was our identity. Our natural birth was one of slavery; the chains placed upon us even in the womb. But then we were adopted. The Spirit of adoption came to us in our chains and set the prisoners free, for the price of our release had been paid upon a cross two thousand years ago. Jesus came to be our brother; He came and saw us in our chains, and even though He was without sin, He submitted Himself to our slavery and paid its ultimate price—death. Then He broke the bars of death with His resurrection, and set us free. But we were not freed from prison to run around on our own. We were given a new status; no longer slave, but adopted child. “For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, ‘Abba! Father!’” We are sons of God, given a watery birth in place of our natural birth, made children by adoption instead of slaves by nature, destined for life instead of death.<br /><br />Why return to the slavery of your birth? “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” The life of the free is a daily putting to death of the spirit of slavery. That spirit entices us with its chains, its assertion that you can only be free by living in sin’s bonds, but the Spirit helps us resist its call by reminding us of our identity: our baptism into Christ, where the Spirit of adoption made us God’s children. Martin Luther teaches us to confess in the Small Catechism: “What does such baptizing with water indicate? It indicates that the Old Adam in us should by daily contrition and repentance be drowned and die with all sins and evil desires, and that a new man should daily emerge and arise to live before God in righteousness and purity forever.” The spirit of slavery is put to death only by repentance, when we see our sin and turn away from it, drowning the Old Adam in a return to the font. The Christian life is one of daily, continual repentance, as we see our sin better and better and drown the Old Adam again and again.<br /><br />This isn’t easy. The spirit of slavery, the Old Adam, is a tenacious swimmer, and his enticing words lead us astray again and again. We are tempted to despair of our identity as God’s children, especially when the Law confronts us and calls us out for not living as Christians should live. But we are not left alone. “The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.” There are three spirits in our text: the spirit of slavery that wants to bind us, the Spirit of adoption that sets us free, and our spirit, which needs reassurance as the struggle goes on within us between slavery and freedom, peace and fear, old man and new. The Holy Spirit doesn’t just make us God’s children through our baptism into Christ, He is daily active and working within us, killing the spirit of slavery and reassuring us of our status before God as we struggle and suffer in the battle against sin, death, and the power of the devil.<br /><br />“The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with Him in order that we may also be glorified with Him.” We will suffer death to our flesh, the daily drowning we are called to, we will suffer the opposition of a world that doesn’t understand why we refuse its bondage, and we will suffer the ravages of sin in a creation that is still fallen. But the Spirit reassures us, bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and that we have an inheritance with Jesus. You are God’s beloved child, you belong to Him, that is your status right now, but you are also an heir, for you have an inheritance that is still to come, waiting for you on the Last Day. For as Jesus suffered and then entered into His glory, so your suffering, too, will only be temporary, and not worth comparing to the glory that is to come. You are children of God, adopted through the work of the Spirit, and an eternity of freedom awaits you, your inheritance won by your brother, your Lord Jesus Christ. In His Name, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-765925104761014992017-08-08T14:50:00.001-04:002017-08-11T10:17:07.956-04:00Eighth Sunday after Trinity (Matthew 7:15-23)“Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the seventh chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ, Jesus doesn’t have many good things to say about false prophets. In fact, He gets downright upset when He starts discussing them. His greatest fire and brimstone is reserved for those who teach falsely, who lead others astray. Elsewhere, He talks about millstone necklaces; here, He sounds much like John the Baptist. “Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” False prophets are doomed, they are condemned, their fate is destruction. No matter how much they protest, the Last Day will not be a pleasant experience for those who teach falsely. “On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’ And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’” I never knew you. There are no more terrifying words that one could hear on the Day that Christ returns. I never knew you. Though they did signs and wonders, though they claimed to speak for Jesus, their destination is hell.<br />
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And they are taking as many as they can with them. False prophets are condemned so harshly because they do not keep their opinions to themselves. The false teachings that leave them condemned they spread to others, a poison that robs the true faith from the hearts of others. Make no mistake, dear friends, false teaching, false doctrine, false theology, condemns, it robs true faith and leads you straight to hell. During the World Wars, posters carried the handy phrase, ‘Loose lips sink ships.’ We should have posters up all over this church, saying ‘False doctrine brings hell.’ Why? Because a wrong Jesus cannot save you, no matter how wise He sounds or how nice He is. In the same way, a wrong path of salvation can bring you only condemnation, no matter how appealing and easy the wide road may look. False doctrine is a poison; maybe a little won’t kill you, depending on what kind it is, but it sure isn’t healthy, and as the doses get stronger and you take them more frequently, you are killing off true faith so that you will hear with the false prophets: “I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.”<br />
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Are you interested in avoiding that fate? Does having the door to heaven shut in your face on Judgment Day sound like something that you would rather not have happen to you? If you’re here this morning than you probably think that avoiding hell is a goal that all people should have, right? If not going to hell sounds like a good thing to you, then Jesus has one word for you: Beware. “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.”<br />
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Beware, dear friends, beware of false prophets. Keep your eyes open for them, be watchful and alert. This isn’t as easy as it sounds, because false prophets don’t typically put ‘leading people to hell’ on their resume, or print ‘false teacher’ on their business card. In fact, if there is one thing that Jesus stresses about them in our text, it is that false teachers are always in disguise. He calls them ‘wolves in sheep’s clothing,’ and then says that not only do they prophesy, cast out demons, and do mighty works, but these are all done ‘in my Name.’ You see, false teachers will often claim the name ‘Christian.’ These are the most dangerous; we are pretty good at spotting false prophets when they come from outside the visible Christian Church, like Muslim imams or Hindu priests, but things get much more difficult when false prophets call themselves Christian. And in fact, it is very difficult to find any false prophet who has something bad to say about Jesus.<br />
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Appearances are deceiving. Not only may false prophets bear the name ‘Christian,’ but they will probably do a lot of good works. Sure, there are many who are sleazy and outwardly wicked; those are much easier to spot. It’s the ones who are outwardly good, who make great neighbors, who serve in the community, feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, who are actually the most dangerous. While we praise any good deed done by believer or non-believer, the good deeds of a false prophet can cause us to let our guard down and open our ears to their teaching. Miracles can do the same thing. Nowhere in the Bible does it say that miracles are restricted to those who are true disciples of Jesus. In fact, Jesus explicitly promises in Matthew twenty-four that false prophets will do many signs and wonders “so as to lead astray, if possible, even the elect.”<br />
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How can you “beware of false prophets?” If they are so well-disguised, how can you mark and avoid someone who will poison the faith given to you by the Holy Spirit? Jesus has a very simple answer: “You will recognize them by their fruits.” Now, we may be tempted to think that ‘fruit’ here is the same as ‘fruit’ elsewhere in the Scriptures, referring to good works. But we already said that what makes many false prophets so dangerous is that they do have good works and even miracles. So the fruit of false prophets must be something else, indeed, the very thing that makes them a false prophet in the first place: their teaching. You can only know false prophets by examining their teachings. There a false prophet cannot hide. You see, a bad tree cannot produce good fruit, you don’t gather grapes from thornbushes. They can try to obscure their teaching with flowery, pious-sounding words, they can make the task more difficult for you, but ultimately, as Jesus says, “You will recognize them by their fruits.”<br />
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How can you recognize bad fruit? Only by knowing good fruit, knowing the truth. False prophets can only be avoided if you know the truth of God’s Word, if you know the Scriptures. Every minute spent reading your Bible, every Sunday morning or Wednesday evening spent in this place receiving Christ’s gifts in the Divine Service or learning His Word in Bible Class, is arming you to recognize the fruit of false teachers. Bankers are not taught to recognize counterfeit bills by looking at a bunch of fake money, they are instead taught every aspect of the real thing. That is what we do here; we give you the real thing, so that if you encounter false prophets, on your television, in a book or magazine, on your front porch, or in this pulpit, you can recognize the fruit, mark and avoid them.<br />
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Appearances will get you nowhere. The truth is often clothed in rags, while falsehood wears a $3,000 suit and drives a Jaguar. The most ardent atheist can do as many outwardly good deeds as the most sincere Christian. You judge your teachers by their fruit, knowing that “every healthy tree bears good fruit, but the diseased tree bears bad fruit. A healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, nor can a diseased tree bear good fruit.” You judge your teachers on the basis of God’s Word, which means you must know God’s Word. That is your task, for the sake of your own soul and the souls of others around you; to listen to any who proport to be teachers and judge their fruit, their teachings. That includes me, Pastor Poppe, and any who stand in this pulpit. Any pastor that is afraid to be judged on the basis of God’s Word, who instead throws around his weight as a teacher of the Church, is afraid that his teaching won’t stand up to the scrutiny of the Word of God. Call him to repentance, for false teaching brings death and hell; true teaching brings life.<br />
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The true Jesus does save you; the true Jesus bled for you, He died for you, He rose for you. The true Jesus took all the sin of the world upon Himself, your sin and mine, and died to pay its penalty. The true Jesus has placed His Name upon you in Holy Baptism, He has made you His own dear child and delivered to you all the gifts of His Kingdom. The true Jesus has placed into your mouth His Body and Blood, feeding you with His grace unto life everlasting. The true Jesus is true God in the flesh forever, seated at the right hand of the Father, for you. The true teaching of the Church isn’t just right; it’s good, it’s beautiful, and it’s for you. The true path of salvation isn’t just the right way, it’s the only way, and it’s the best way, because it’s all about grace alone by faith alone, without any merit or worthiness on your part. If you have indulged your itching ears with the slick lies of false prophets, if you have mixed a little poison in the waters of life that you receive from Christ, if you have by neglect of God’s Word left yourself open to the assaults of false teachers, repent; repent and return to the true faith. This is the truth: you are forgiven for the sake of Christ’s shed blood, poured out on Calvary’s cross and applied to you at font, pulpit, and altar. The truth that you in weakness have neglected is the very truth that forgives you for that weakness, the very truth that saves you for eternity. You are redeemed by the blood of the Lamb, a child of God forever.<br />
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On that great and terrible Day, you too will cry out ‘Lord, Lord,’ but this will not be the insincere cry of those who claimed the Name and refused the teaching; instead ‘Lord, Lord’ is the cry of faith. “Abba, Father,” you cry out, all you who have been adopted as sons, who have been made children of God through Christ, and the door will not be shut against you. No, it will be opened to you forever, for Jesus does know you, He died for you, He rose for you, He made you His own. Your lawless deeds are forgiven; He died for them all. That is the truth, the truth that has set you free, the truth that is not only right, but so much better than anything the false prophets offer. They bring death, Jesus has life, life for you. This is the truth we hear, this is the truth that we study, this is the truth that we read in the pages of the Scriptures. This is the truth that we cling to, because this is the truth that saves, and you who abide in that truth by the work of the Holy Spirit will live forever, world without end. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-86953552608825237652017-08-03T08:27:00.003-04:002017-08-03T08:27:25.945-04:00Seventh Sunday after Trinity (Genesis 2:7-17)“And the Lord God commanded the man, ‘You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this evening is the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the second chapter of the book of Genesis. Dear friends in Christ, the Lord God planted a garden in the land of Eden, in the east. It was the sixth day. He had already created light, sky and land, plants, the moon, sun, and stars, and a multitude of animals to fill the sea, sky, and land. Now He does some gardening. The world is paradise, perfect and good, but it is not yet ‘very good.’ The garden in the land of Eden is to be the center of that perfection, the perfect sanctuary in a perfect world, and in the midst of that garden, in the holy of holies, He will plant two trees.<br /><br />That sanctuary, indeed even the holy of holies, the inner chamber, is to be the dwelling place of His final creation, the creation that alone can make all things complete, ‘very good.’ Before this final creature is set in place, the world isn’t imperfect, but it isn’t finished. This creature will be the crown of His creation, and it will be entrusted with the care of all else as God’s own steward and representative. Therefore the Creator, who made all else with the power of His Word, does this final act of creation in a completely unique way. “Then the Lord God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature.” God gives life, that is His gift to the crown and ruler of His creation. He takes the dust of the ground, forms it into man, and gives us the breath of life. We all go back to a pile of dust and a blast from God’s nostrils. Before God formed us, we were simply dirt on the ground. Before God breathed His breath into us, we may have looked like man, but there was no life in us. Apart from God, there is no life. Life is His gift, pure and simple.<br /><br />But God isn’t only concerned with giving life. His abundance doesn’t stop with the breath of life. Man is put in this perfect world’s inner sanctuary and told that all things are his. “You may surely eat of every tree of the garden.” What kinds of trees were in that garden? “And out of the ground the Lord God made to spring up every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food. The tree of life was in the midst of the garden, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.” We even had access to the holy of holies, where the tree of life grew. Surely every tree provided good food, but the tree of life provided exactly what the title implies: life, full and complete, providing in continual abundance the gift God first gave into our nostrils. But another tree stood in the holy of holies, the one thing in all of creation that God withheld from us. “Of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you will surely die.” This tree was our place of worship, where Adam preached his sermons, pointing to the tree and proclaiming the one command that God had given. This was our church, where we worshipped God by not partaking of what God had not given to us.<br /><br />But Satan snuck in, and twisted God’s words, with his, “Did God really say?” and his “You will be like God.” He led us to fix our eyes on the one thing God had not given rather than on all the abundance that He had given. He tempted us to be dissatisfied, and then fed that fire until it roared. That is how Satan works. God gives a gift, and Satan immediately starts tempting, pointing us to what God has not given. God gives us a spouse, and we lust after those whom God has not given. God gives us a home and food on the table, and we covet what our neighbor has. Maybe God doesn’t give certain gifts to us, maybe He hasn’t given a spouse or children, or a high-paying job, but even though He has given us Himself and a tremendous array of gifts, Satan tempts us to focus on those things God hasn’t given, to covet and to take. It’s been this way from the very beginning. God formed us from the dust of the ground, breathed into our nostrils the very breath of life, and if that weren’t enough, He put us in a perfect garden and gave us the wondrous fruit of every tree save one, including the magnificent tree of life. And we fell for Satan’s trick, fixing our eyes on the one thing in all creation that God had withheld.<br /><br />We grasped after what God had not given, and so we lost all that He had given. “In the day that you eat of it you shall surely die,” God said, and on that terrible day, death entered the world, we began to die. All that God had given in such abundance was taken away. We were driven away from the garden, cast out of the holy of holies; that place which we were to guard was now guarded against us, and when the Flood came, the garden in the land of Eden was no more. But the curse didn’t end there. We were formed from the dust, and now we are destined to return to dust. We were given the very breath of life, and now are destined to give up that breath. The great gifts of creation are now to be reversed; one day you will return to the state of Adam on the morning of that sixth day of creation. First, you will give up your breath, and then you will turn to dust. The life that God gave to you as His gift will be forcibly taken from you.<br /><br />You desired and you took what God had not given, and so you receive what God never intended: death. But God in His mercy and grace doesn’t stop giving. You are barred from the tree of life in the midst of the garden, but God gives another tree of life. This tree isn’t beautiful, ripe fruit don’t hang from it, it isn’t a delight to the eyes. Instead, it’s an instrument of torture, ugly to the extreme, unseemly and offensive. In place of fruit, there hangs upon this tree of life a man, beaten and bloodied, pouring out his life upon it. It doesn’t look like a tree of life, only a place of death. But when the death that is died upon that tree is the death of the sinless Son of God in your place, then the cross of Jesus is truly the tree of life. When the death that is died upon that tree forgives your every sin, then the cross of Jesus is more beautiful than any tree. For on that tree, God withholds from His Son the breath of life in your place, and Jesus pays your penalty for you.<br /><br />Jesus dies to make His cross the new tree of life, the new source of life for those sinners who are destined to give up the gifts God first gave to us in the garden. Yes, you will give up the breath of life one day, but because Christ breathed His last having preached His final sermon, “It is finished,” because you have been given the gift of the Holy Spirit as Jesus breathed into your ears His Word, that breath will one day return. Yes, your body will return to the dust from whence it came, but because Jesus laid down His life into the dust of death for you, bearing your sin and enduring your penalty, you will be raised from that dust to live before Him forever. Yes, you were excluded from the holy of holies, cast out of the inner sanctuary, but Christ has gone into the most holy place by means of His blood to open a way for you.<br /><br />Yes, you were cast from the garden in the land of Eden, but there is another garden to which Christ has won you entry, a garden in which you will dwell forever. Saint John saw in the New Jerusalem “on either side of the river, the tree of life with its twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit each month. The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.” The tree of life that is the cross of Jesus has won you access to this tree of life that will never be destroyed, that you will never be barred from. The entire new heavens and the new earth will be the inner sanctuary, the holy of holies, and you will have access forever, for you are the redeemed, the saved, those for whom Christ died. Life was God’s gift in the beginning, and life is God’s gift at the end, life through Jesus, and as Adam was created from dust, so you will be raised from the dust, to live before Christ forever, to eat from the tree of life without end. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-7049858978636999582017-07-12T19:13:00.003-04:002017-07-12T19:13:38.625-04:00Fourth Sunday after Trinity (Luke 6:36-42)“Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the sixth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ, there are many phrases and verses from Scripture that you hear on the lips of people who have never cracked a Bible. There are many quotations of Jesus that are ripped completely out of their context and then used to support any and every cause. But there is perhaps no single part of Scripture that you will hear more often in our culture than the one that we find in our text today: “Judge not, and you will not be judged.” Usually, this is simply shortened, in a music video, a magazine interview, at a family reunion, or in your living room, to, ‘Don’t judge me!’ Don’t judge me when I wear or say or do what I want. Don’t judge me when I choose a lifestyle for myself and my children. Don’t judge me when I choose to love someone of the same sex, or chose to become a different sex. Don’t judge me when I neglect or destroy my family through gambling, alcoholism or affairs. Essentially, it all comes down to, ‘Don’t judge me in anything I do.’ These words of Jesus have become very popular indeed, and if someone doesn’t know anything else about our Lord, they know that He was against judging, and therefore was a really good guy.<br /><br />At least He was better than His followers. The accusation flies against the Church, especially a congregation, like ours, that actually believes in something. It’s said so often that we almost don’t hear it anymore, its become an axiom that no one questions: ‘The Church—or your church—is judgmental.’ Maybe you haven’t heard this personally, though I suspect many of you have, we hear this as a congregation, we hear this as the Christian Church. Someone encounters the Church in some way, and perhaps before anyone has a chance to say anything at all about their lifestyle, it is said, ‘Don’t judge me!’ Especially today, ‘Don’t judge me’ is an essential part of the relativistic spirit of the age. ‘Don’t judge me!’ means, ‘You can’t tell me whether what I am doing is right or wrong.’ ‘Don’t judge me!’ means, ‘There is not an objective standard which you can hold me or anyone else to.’ ‘Don’t judge me!’ means, ‘Don’t call my actions sin!’ ‘Don’t judge me!’ is a trump card, that anyone can play to shut off all conversation, to put an end to any discussion of morality or virtue. Jesus says, “Judge not,” and that’s that.<br /><br />You should know all about this, because you do it all the time. ‘Don’t judge me!’ isn’t just the cry of a transgender activist, it is your cry whenever you are trying to justify yourself and your sinful actions. You may not be so blatant as to say it in the same way, but you have the same arrogance, the same desire to keep on doing what you are doing, no matter what anyone says. ‘Don’t judge me!’ you arrogantly say as you approach God’s holy altar while living in open sin. ‘Don’t judge me!’ you boldly declare when your pastor calls on you to repent. ‘Don’t judge me!’ you say as you cherish and indulge your secret, hidden sin. It’s your trump card; Jesus says, “Judge not,” and that’s that.<br /><br />Quite often, when you hear (or use) the phrase ‘Don’t judge me!’ it comes from a spirit of arrogance; someone is doing what they know is wrong, but they have found in Jesus a word that excuses everything: “Judge not.” But we would be making a terrible mistake if we assumed that in every case ‘Don’t judge me!’ was a cry of arrogance. Even many of those who cry ‘Don’t judge me!’ in a bold, seemingly confident way, are in reality souls desperate for a word of grace. ‘Don’t judge me!’ then means ‘Don’t reject me because of my sin!’ Quite often, these are words of humility. When a person says, ‘that church is so judgmental,’ it could mean that a congregation spoke the truth about God’s Law and man’s sin, and that person in arrogance refused to repent. On the other hand, it could mean that a humble sinner, broken by their transgressions, facing the deep consequences of their sins, not knowing how to escape, came to a church desperate for a word of grace, a word of hope, and were only given the Law’s threats and condemnations. By word or by deed, directly or indirectly, they were told ‘You aren’t welcome here.’ This is tragic, heartbreaking; for many a broken sinner, ‘Don’t judge me!’ is a cry for help.<br /><br />You should know all about this, because you do it all the time. Every Sunday, in fact, you gather before God and cry out to Him, ‘Don’t judge me!’ We call it Confession and Absolution. First we admit our sinfulness, we declare openly who we are: “I, a poor miserable sinner…” Then we plead for grace. “Be gracious and merciful to me, a poor sinful being.” ‘Don’t judge me!’ we plead. Our sins are great, our sins are many, our sins fill us every day, every moment, and we are desperate for a Word of grace, a Word of mercy, a Word of forgiveness.<br /><br />And Christ has come to give us that Word. “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful,” Jesus commands us, and the Father’s mercy is shown forth in the sending of His Son. Jesus didn’t come to judge or condemn, He didn’t come to reject those who have been humbled by their sins, driven to repentance by the preaching of the Law. Yes, Jesus certainly preached the Law, more severely than any who came before him, as there were many arrogant sinners who needed to see their sins, but when the Law did its work, when it drove sinners to repentance, Jesus spoke words of hope, of comfort, of forgiveness. And these were not empty, idle words. Jesus Himself paid the price to make these words reality, to remove judgment and condemnation from a world that deserved it.<br /><br />The One who said, “Be merciful,” was shown no mercy by this world. The One who said, “Judge not” was judged by Caiaphas and the blood-thirsty mob. The One who said, “Condemn not,” was condemned to death by Pilate. He was shown no mercy by men so that you would be shown mercy by God. He was judged guilty not just by the rulers of this world, but by God Himself, so that you would not be judged. He was condemned to death so that you will live, even though you die. Your sins, which are many, are put away, paid for by the shed blood of Jesus. Jesus died in your place, He died your death, He died bearing your sin. He, who saw more clearly than anyone else, allowed the blind to lead Him into the pit of Hell, and there He suffered your punishment so that you never will. He preaches the Law to humble you when you arrogantly say ‘Don’t judge me!’ clinging to your sin, and He preaches the Gospel to forgive you when in humility you cry ‘Don’t judge me!’ despairing of your sin. He shows you mercy.<br /><br />It is this mercy that we then, as individual Christians and as the Church, take into the world. “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.” We are not the blind, our eyes have been opened by the healing hand of Jesus, sight has been restored in the washing of Holy Baptism; we do not follow our teacher into the pit, but we follow Jesus in the way of mercy. “A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher.” Our teacher did not condemn us, He did not hand us over to the judgment of God, our teacher showed us mercy. That is the mercy that we show to others, those who desperately cry out ‘Don’t judge me!’ Our interactions with our fellow sinners is to be characterized by mercy. “Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap.” <br /><br />The one who has been forgiven and then refuses to forgive will find the same standard applied to him. The one who has been spared condemnation, and then condemns his fellow sinners will discover that the same standard has been applied to him. The one who has been forgiven and then goes out to forgive, to show mercy, will revel in the grace that he has been given. “For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.” The measure you received was mercy, mercy given to you who didn’t deserve it; you were spared the judgment of God because Jesus endured it in your place. This is the mercy that Jesus extends into the world, and He does so through His instruments, His Christians, His Church. A disciple is like his teacher when a disciple shows mercy.<br /><br /> Our teacher didn’t condemn us, He didn’t judge us, but He forgives us. He didn’t ignore sin, He didn’t leave us in our arrogance, but in mercy He preached the Law to call out our sin, and then preached the Gospel to forgive it. When we encounter sinners who in an arrogant refusal to repent say, ‘Don’t judge me!’ we do not leave them in their sin. That is the most unmerciful thing we could do. We preach the Law, but not because we want to condemn them to hell, but because we have the joy of the angels over every sinner who repents. We preach the Law for the same reason Jesus preaches the Law: so that sinners would repent, so that they would turn and be saved. And when we encounter sinners who desperately, humbly cry ‘Don’t judge me!’ we in mercy extend Christ’s forgiveness and do all that we can to welcome them into a congregation of sinners and help them leave their life of sin.<br /><br />We can only forgive when we have received forgiveness; we can only call to repentance when we have first repented. “You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.” Specks need removing, but only by those who have their logs removed, their eyes opened, by daily contrition and repentance. Repent. Repent of all your sins. Repent of those sins you try to justify, repent of your refusal to act in mercy toward those who simply need a word of grace, repent of judging and condemning. Admit your hypocrisy, that you have desired mercy while giving none. Repent, for your Father is merciful. Repent, for Jesus died for your every sin. You are forgiven, you have been shown mercy; Jesus bled, Jesus died for you. Good measure has been given to you, it is overflowing, enough for you, enough for your neighbor. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-83309809734242295922017-07-12T19:12:00.001-04:002017-07-12T19:12:24.889-04:00First Sunday after Trinity (Genesis 15:1-6)“And [Abram] believed the Lord and He counted it to him as righteousness.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the fifteenth chapter of Genesis. Dear friends in Christ: Father Abraham had no sons, no sons had Father Abraham. There were none of them, no not one, so let’s all complain to the Lord. God had promised Abraham many offspring; He promised that nations would come forth from him, that in him and in his offspring would all the nations be blessed. God had taken the promise given to Adam and Eve in the Garden, that one of the offspring of Eve would crush the head of the serpent and reverse the curse of the Fall, and applied it to Abraham. But Father Abraham had no sons, no sons had Father Abraham. And that’s a big problem. Not to the world, mind you, fatherhood doesn’t matter much to our world. Although we give it lip service on this day, a nation that has legalized homosexual marriage, that encourages the procreation of children apart from the union of husband and wife, that portrays fathers as bumbling fools, proclaims loud and clear that fathers don’t matter. Despite all the evidence to the contrary, despite fatherless homes driving crime and violence in our cities and instability in our homes, our country has chosen to tell fathers to take a hike.<br /><br />But fatherhood certainly matters to God. Not only did God so order the world so that fathers would be the heads of their households, having spiritual leadership and the duty to provide, God also would provide salvation from the Fall and its consequences—sin, death, and the power of the devil—through fatherhood; until, of course, the Messiah would be born of woman alone. But Father Abraham has no sons, no sons has Father Abraham. God’s promise has hit a roadblock; the plan of salvation is stymied. Not only does Abraham have no son to inherit his vast wealth, Abraham has no son to inherit the next link in the chain of salvation. But before Abraham can open up his mouth to complain, the Lord moves first to reassure him. “After these things the word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision: ‘Fear not, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.’” The promise of God comes to him once again, completely out of the blue, to reassure him, to comfort him, to tell him everything will be OK. But Abraham isn’t buying it. “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?”<br /><br />Abraham’s eyes are telling him another message: a childless marriage, a servant poised to take his inheritance, whispers in his tent, the promises of God turning to dust. “Behold, you have given me no offspring, and a member of my household will be my heir.” We cannot see the fulfillment of the promises. We read in the Bible, we hear from this pulpit great and many promises, given by God to His saints. Promises of deliverance, promises of blessing, promises of prosperity. And we look around us, and we see nothing of the sort. Lazarus, the believer, lay at the door of the rich man, a complete and total hypocrite and pagan. And it was Lazarus, who trusted in the God of the universe, who suffered, while the rich man, who scorned his Creator, ate and drank in luxury. Our eyes tell us a much different story than God’s Word does. The Bible declares that your Savior, your Lord, who you were baptized into, holds all power and all authority in His hands. But you don’t see any of it. You still suffer, you still languish, the world continues to laugh in your face. There doesn’t seem to be any difference between you and unbelievers; in fact, they seem to be doing better. You gaze over the fence and see success and prosperity filling the hands of those who hate God and refuse to go to church. So you doubt, so you despair, so you wonder what the point of following God is. You cry out with the words of our Introit: “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?”<br /><br />God hears the cries of His people, from Abraham in his tent, to Lazarus at the door of the rich man, to you at your kitchen table as your world falls apart, before your doctor as he brings you bad news, or at the bedside of a loved one as they suffer and die. He hears our cries, He knows our afflictions. And He responds. “The Word of the Lord came to him: ‘This man shall not be your heir; your very own son shall be your heir.’” Notice what God doesn’t do. He doesn’t immediately give Abraham a son; He doesn’t remove his suffering or affliction. God certainly reserves the right to act in miraculous healing or provision immediately after you pray, and sometimes He does. But most of the time, He doesn’t. Instead, He gives us His Word.<br /><br />“And He brought [Abram] outside and said, ‘Look toward heaven, and number the stars, if you are able to number them.’ Then He said to him, ‘So shall your offspring be.’” The response of your Creator to doubt is preaching, the proclamation of the Gospel. Dear friends, you are suffering now, in one way or another. You may feel like Lazarus, abandoned to lie in the muck; you may feel like Abraham, left high and dry by God. You may be doubting and despairing, but hear this day the promises of your God: your sufferings have an end, they have a termination. God’s promises are true, despite all the evidence your eyes try to give you. You have glory and prosperity that is much more than financial security on this earth: the inheritance of heaven belongs to you, perfect healing and victory over death. Because Christ died and rose again for you, because He bled for you and He rose in victory for you, sin cannot condemn you—it is forgiven! Death cannot defeat you—it has been defeated! And none of Satan’s threats or accusations can stick—He has been conquered! You are righteous, right with your God through Jesus, and so your suffering is temporary, your suffering will end, your suffering doesn’t have the victory, that belongs to Christ.<br /><br />The resurrection of Jesus is the answer to your suffering; as Job trusted in His Redeemer who lives in the midst of his affliction, so you trust in that same Redeemer, who walked this earth centuries after Job, suffered, died, and rose again for him and for you. The destination of believers is not that of the rich man, but that of Lazarus: “The poor man died and was carried by the angels to Abraham’s side.” Abraham’s side is destination of all believers, for Abraham is the father of all who believe. “And he believed the Lord, and He counted it to him as righteousness.” God’s Word, His promises, do not return void, they are not worthless vibrations on the air; God’s Word is full of power, the power to create faith. Repent of your doubt, repent of your unbelief, repent of your despair. Repent and believe the Gospel, the Gospel which proclaims to you your crucified and risen Lord, who has already defeated sin, death, and the power of the devil, who has made you righteous. God’s Word, His promises, come washing over you like the waves of the seashore, creating and sustaining faith, reassuring you each and every week, each and every day, as you walk through this valley of the shadow of death.<br /><br />Abraham believed the Word, even though God did not immediately grant him the son he desired. He walked by faith, no longer by sight, faith in the sure and certain promises of a God who does not lie. The rich man lived by sight, and he thought (correctly) that the world does the same. “I beg you, father, to send him to my father’s house—for I have five brothers—so that he may warn them, lest they also come into this place of torment.” But Father Abraham, the father of those who walk by faith and not by sight, points the rich man to a lesson that he learned so long ago: it is through the Word that God does His work. “Abraham said, ‘They have Moses and the Prophets; let them hear them.’” God attacks doubt through the Word, through preaching. But the rich man, even in hell, still refuses to trust the Word, responding, “No, Father Abraham, but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.” The world lives by sight, Christians live by faith, faith in the sure and certain promises of God. “He said to him, ‘If they do not hear Moses and the Prophets, neither will they be convinced if someone should rise from the dead.’”<br /><br />Father Abraham had no sons, no sons had Father Abraham. There were none of them, no not one, so let’s trust in the Lord. At the end of our text, Abraham still doesn’t have a son; the promise is still waiting for its fulfillment. But he is no longer walking by sight; he walks by faith, worked by the Holy Spirit through the preached Word. “And he believed the Lord, and He counted it to him as righteousness.” Abraham is righteous not because he did anything, but through faith he took hold of the promises of Christ. He believed in the coming Messiah, his offspring according to the flesh, who would crush the serpent’s head, just as you believe in the Messiah who has come, and that faith made him righteous, right with God, because that Messiah was coming to win righteousness for him and for all. Abraham is the father of all who believe, all who live by faith and not by sight, he is your father and mine, and every earthly father who faithfully teaches his children the Word which brings faith follows in his footsteps, and should be celebrated this day and every day. The life of faith would not be easy for Abraham; he still had many years to wait, he continued to struggle with doubt, and would need the reassurance of the Word again and again, just as you need it daily. But he walked by faith in God’s promise, and when the time had fully come, God fulfilled that promise, just as a Day is coming when His every promise, already ‘yes’ to you in Christ, will be fulfilled for eternity. On that Day there will be no faith, only sight, and with Abraham you will see your God face to face. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-71437150906798554442017-07-12T19:10:00.002-04:002017-07-12T19:10:17.950-04:00Pentecost (Acts 2:1-21)“It shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this Pentecost day is the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago, the account of the first Christian Pentecost, Acts chapter two. Dear friends in Christ: everyone who calls on the Name of the Lord will be saved. It doesn’t matter what nation, race, or country; everyone who calls on the Name of the Lord will be saved. It doesn’t matter what language or dialect; everyone who calls on the Name of the Lord will be saved. Neither riches nor power, neither athletic ability nor beauty, make any difference at all; everyone who calls on the Name of the Lord will be saved. This is not universalism, that everyone calls out to his own god (or gods) and is saved, but this is very specific. Everyone who calls on the Name of the Lord, the one Name of the one and only true God, King of Kings and Lord of Lords, will be saved. It is only by calling on that Name, to that God, that men are saved. Salvation is found in no one else than that God; salvation is given through no other name. All other names, every other path, is false, and leads only to damnation. Like those who sailed with Jonah, you can call out to other gods all you want, and the storm will keep on raging. But not so with the God of Israel. Everyone who calls on the Name of that Lord, the only true God, will be saved.<br /><br />How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed? There is one problem—one big problem—with these words of Joel, preached by Peter. No one can call on the Name of the Lord on his or her own. Sinful man cannot call on the Lord and be saved. The world and our sinful flesh consider the things of God to be foolishness. “And all were amazed and perplexed, saying to one another, ‘What does this mean?’ But others mocking said, ‘They are filled with new wine.’” The preaching of the Word of God is drunken stupidity to the world. The proclamation of the Gospel is the rambling of an idiot to our sinful flesh. You’ve heard their mocking, you know what they say, you may even agree. The Bible’s morality is repressive and outdated, the teaching of a six-day creation intellectually infantile, all those miracles ridiculous to even consider believing. And that doesn’t even touch on the greatest foolishness of all, the foolishness that the people reacted to on the day of Pentecost: the resurrection of Jesus from the dead, the proclamation that in His Name alone can salvation be found. This is the height of stupidity, the pinnacle of offense, to say that there is one path to heaven, that eternal life is found in only one place: the resurrected Jesus. <br /><br />The sinful mind, the sinful world, wants nothing to do with the things of God; everything God says is simply the speech of a drunken fool. So the world responds with disdain, with mocking, with angry comedy, rather than calling on the Name of the Lord to be saved. No one can believe in God on their own, no one can call on the Name of the Lord on their own volition. Yes, they can call on plenty of other gods, but the Name of the true God is foolishness to the world. Why? Because they do not believe.<br /><br />But how are they to believe in Him of whom they have never heard? Faith can only come by hearing, and it is hearing that Pentecost is all about. The signs and wonders of Pentecost are not an end in themselves, but they are there so that the world will hear and believe. “Now there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men from every nation under heaven. And at this sound the multitude came together, and they were bewildered, because each one was hearing them speak in his own language.” The rushing wind, the tongues of fire, even the speaking in other languages, all were to gather the nations to hear the Word. This is no surprise; every miracle performed by Jesus was for the sake of the Word. Not a single healing or act of mastery over nature was an end in itself; each and every sign and wonder was to gather people to hear the Word.<br /><br />The signs and wonders declare that God is coming into their midst; as the Lord descended in fire and storm upon Mount Sinai, so in flame and wind He has come among His people again. As on Sinai He descended in power to give the Word to His people, the covenant, with the Ten Commandments at its center, so now He descends to bring His Word of Gospel to the nations. The disciples are not speaking gibberish, but are speaking what the Spirit has given them to say. “And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance.” The Holy Spirit comes so that the Word will be preached, so that the world will hear what He has given the disciples to say. So the point of Pentecost is not a bunch of Hollywood special effects, but when Peter opened his mouth to speak.<br /><br />How are they to hear without someone preaching? The Holy Spirit works through means, and the first miracle of this day is not that wind rushed in, nor that tongues of fire appeared, nor even that different languages were spoken. The first miracle of this day is that Peter, who denied our Lord three times less than two months before, stands up boldly and preaches the greatest sermon a pastor has ever preached. “Men of Judea and all who dwell in Jerusalem, let this be known to you, and give ear to my words.” The hatred of this world for the Word of God has cowed many a Christian into silence, it has led many a preacher to talk about something else. The mockery of this world has kept you, time and again, in silence, refusing to speak of Jesus to friends and family when opportunities have been placed before you, it has kept you, time and again, from seeking opportunities to speak. But filled with the Holy Spirit, on the day of Pentecost, Peter—miracle of miracles!—lifted up his voice and spoke.<br /><br />The second miracle of this day is that people hear and believe. It was not the signs and wonders—those simply gathered the people to hear—but the Word of God, preached by Peter with unexpected boldness, that created faith. The hatred of this world for the things of God has left many hearts in darkness. That was your state; conceived and born in sin, you were an enemy of God. You hated God, and everything associated with God; you thought it was all drunken foolishness. When you see and hear the hatred of this world for the things of God, know that this is the hatred that once filled you, the hatred that still dwells within you and all people. But on that first Pentecost—miracle of miracles!—Peter preached, and people believed.<br /><br />We don’t hear about this in our text; we must look toward the end of Acts chapter two. Peter has proved throughout his great sermon that the Lord to whom we must call to be saved is the crucified and resurrected Jesus, and now he says, “Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.” The people are cut to the heart by the preaching of the Law, and they cry out, “Brothers, what shall we do?” Peter’s response is the same as Joel’s: everyone who calls on the Name of the Lord will be saved. “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.” Miracle of miracles—they did call on the Name of the Lord, and they were baptized.<br /><br />Peter preached, and people called upon the Name of the Lord. Not on their own power, but by the faith worked in them by the Holy Spirit, using the means that God has appointed, the preached Word. How are they to preach unless they are sent? With this great miracle the Holy Spirit propels the disciples into the world, the many languages a prophecy of how the Gospel will go to every corner of our planet. Through the means of the Church, the Holy Spirit will call on the world to repent and believe, and it will come to pass that everyone who calls on the Name of the Lord will be saved. Pentecost is a miracle repeated every Sunday, every time the Word is proclaimed, every time a sinner who hates God is made a believer who loves Him in the waters of Holy Baptism. Pentecost is your miracle; it is a miracle that someone preached the Gospel to you, that someone baptized you into Christ’s name, and it is a miracle that you believe.<br /><br /> “It shall come to pass that everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.” You can only call on the Name of Jesus when God has called you and you believe, as Peter preaches, “The promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.” You can only believe when you hear the Gospel proclaimed; there is no faith without hearing, the Holy Spirit doesn’t act directly, zapping faith into your heart apart from the Word. And you can only hear if someone preaches; the Word of God on occasion boomed forth from the sky, but no longer, now it comes through the mouths of men. And those men can only preach if they are sent, propelled forth from Jerusalem and Judea to the ends of the earth. This is the great order, filled with the Holy Spirit, that Jesus uses to bring His salvation to the world, and this is how He saved you.<br /><br />The same Jesus who poured out His blood on Calvary as the sacrifice for the sin of the world pours out the Holy Spirit to give to you the benefits of that sacrifice: forgiveness, life, and salvation, won by His wounds, His innocent suffering and death, His victorious resurrection from the dead. The signs of Pentecost tell us that we are living in the last days: wind, fire, and the languages of the world proclaiming the glories of Christ, they tell us that the great harvest is being gathered in. Only one promise is yet to be fulfilled, and for that the Church waits, as she preaches, as she proclaims the Word so that many will hear and believe: Christ has promised to return, and He will, to take to Himself you, me, Peter and the eleven, along with all who have called on His Name. This Name we worship, this Name we praise, for salvation is found in no other Name but the Name of Jesus Christ, our crucified and risen Lord. Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-51545336332587855482017-05-18T10:09:00.001-04:002017-05-18T10:09:06.749-04:00Fifth Sunday of Easter (Isaiah 12)“The Lord God is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this evening is the Old Testament lesson that we sang at the beginning of the service and read just a few moments ago, the twelfth chapter of the prophet Isaiah. Dear friends in Christ, the old song was sung by the Red Sea. It was a song of victory, of triumph over the enemies of God and His people. The people stood above the waters, gazing into the waves that swallowed up their foes: Pharaoh’s host, chariots, horses, officers and soldiers, all cast down in utter, humiliating defeat. Their song of triumph echoed out over the waters of destruction, the waters of victory: “The Lord is my strength and my song, and he has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise Him, my father's God, and I will exalt Him.” But that was the old song; our Introit calls on us to sing anew. “Sing to the Lord a new song, Alleluia, for He has revealed His righteousness in the sight of the nations. Alleluia.” The new song is sung by the baptismal font. It is a song of victory, of final triumph over the enemies of God and His people. We stand above the waters, gazing into the waves that swallowed up our foes: sin, death, and the power of the devil, all cast down in utter, humiliating defeat. Our song of triumph echoes out over the waters of destruction, the waters of victory: “The Lord God is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation.”<br /><br />Sing, dear friends, sing out the song of victory. Sing out, each and every one of you, for God has Himself become your Savior; He has come in salvation to you—you singular—delivering you from His just wrath over your sin. “You will say in that day,” the day of Easter, the day of your baptism, every day since that you celebrate His salvation, and then on the Last Day that endures forever, “You will say in that day, ‘I will give thanks to you, O Lord, for though you were angry with me, your anger turned away, that you might comfort me.’” God was angry with you, for you sinned; God was angry with you, for your rebelled against Him. God was your enemy because you were His enemy, you, along with all of humanity, turned against the One who gives every good gift. You were quite rightly condemned to death and hell. I am convinced that we do not take this nearly seriously enough. Yes, we say the words, “We justly deserve your present and eternal punishment,” but we don’t actually take them seriously. We don’t really think that our sins anger God, that a holy God must have wrath over sin, and that His wrath paints a bullseye on our chest. We don’t think about what it means to have the God of creation angry with us, or consider the eternal consequences of our sins. But that is reality. Our sins anger God, they anger and offend Him enough that death and hell is our only share. You deserve to spend eternity in hell; know it, believe it, confess it, sing it.<br /><br />But don’t stop singing there. “Though you were angry with me, your anger turned away, that you might comfort me.” The wonderful miracle that inspires our song is quite simple, though it is the most profound mystery ever conceived: in an inconceivable act of mercy, the angry God has become our salvation. Our salvation came from no other place, no other source, than the very God who was angry with us. This angry God freely, in His overwhelming love for you, acted to bring you salvation. “Behold, God is my salvation; I will trust, and will not be afraid; for the Lord God is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation.” <br /><br />In Isaiah chapter eleven, we see this plan unfold. A shoot will come forth from the barren stump of Jesse, the line of Israel’s kings that had been cut off by God’s wrath. A shoot will come forth, a Branch bearing fruit, true God in the flesh, and He will go forth to bring you righteousness and peace. He will restore Eden again, reconciling man and beast to each other and to their Creator, and He will bring forth the new Exodus that requires a new song, gathering the people of God from every place they have been scattered. He will bring us through the waters of baptism as He brought the people of Israel through the Red Sea waters, and we will see our enemies drowned behind us. How will He do this? To find the answer, we must look to Isaiah chapters fifty-two and fifty-three. There we see this Branch from the stump of Jesse placing Himself between us and God’s wrath over our sin. “He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed.” God was angry with the Branch, His Son, for our sins, He was angry with the Branch and so His wrath passed over us, and now He comforts us, the angry God has become our salvation for the sake of Christ. Sin can no longer enslave, Satan can no longer accuse, and death has no more victory. Know it, believe it, confess it, sing it!<br /><br />Come singing to the waters of life, drink deeply of this salvation. “With joy will you draw waters from the wells of salvation.” This is the water flowing from the pierced side of Jesus, the living water that He promised the Samaritan woman, water that one drinks and is never thirsty again. This is the water bubbling up from what used to be desert; as God gave His people Israel water from the rock in the wilderness, so He gives you and me water from Christ, our crucified and risen Lord. The desert has become a garden, and on the Last Day we will dwell in the new Eden forevermore. On that day, the day of salvation, the day of Easter, the day of your baptism, and every day since until the Last Day, you will rejoice to sing, together with all the Church of every tribe, language, race, and century, “Give thanks to the Lord, call upon His Name, make known His deeds among the peoples, proclaim that His Name is exalted.”<br /><br />Call upon His Name, the Name of salvation, the Name above all other names, at which every knee shall bow. The salvation of the Branch, the salvation brought by God, is not just for you as an individual, it is not just for us in the Church, it is for the entire world. “Sing praises to the Lord, for He has done gloriously; let this be made known in all the earth.” That is what the song is for, to proclaim to the world that the angry God has become our salvation. He has done gloriously, He has acted, intervened in mercy, in grace, in love for a creation estranged from Him. He did Himself what we were unable to, He acted in compassion toward those who had only hatred for Him. He brought you through the waters; He destroyed your foes in the font, but his salvation doesn’t end with you, it doesn’t end with those currently in the Church; His salvation is for all, and the Church sings so that the world will know that God has acted in salvation for all people.<br /><br />That is what the new song is all about. “Sing to the Lord a new song, Alleluia, for He has revealed His righteousness in the sight of the nations. Alleluia.” The old song was incomplete; the salvation it celebrated, though great, was not total. Pharaoh’s host was drowned in the Red Sea, but sin, death, and Satan still stalked God’s people, creation was still in the bonds of rebellion. The new song celebrates a salvation that fulfills the exodus because it is greater than the exodus; because the Branch stood between us and God’s wrath, an enemy nation has not been defeated, but the domain of death; the people have not just been freed from slavery, but from the shackles of sin. It isn’t a worldly ruler who is defeated, but the tempter and deceiver, Satan Himself. The Branch has triumphed over them by being nailed to a tree in our place and rising again in victory. “Shout, and sing for joy, O inhabitant of Zion, for great in your midst is the Holy One of Israel.” The angry God has become our salvation. The angry God, whose holiness meant our destruction, now dwells in our midst, God comes among us, in Word and Sacrament, not to destroy but to save. We are the inhabitants of Zion, the Church, which exists in this world wherever the gifts of Christ are given, and will be fully revealed as a bride for her husband on the Last Day. On that day, we will shout, on that day we will rejoice, on that day we will sing! “The Lord God is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation.” In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-82682071818707409892017-05-09T09:19:00.005-04:002017-05-09T09:19:51.651-04:00Fourth Sunday of Easter (John 16:16-22)“A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the sixteenth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint John. Dear friends in Christ, we do not know what Jesus is talking about. We don’t get it, we cannot comprehend His words, they fill us with confusion. “So some of His disciples said to one another, ‘What is this that He says to us, “A little while, and you will not see me, and again a little while, and you will see me”; and, “because I am going to the Father”?’ So they were saying, ‘What does He mean by “a little while”? We do not know what He is talking about.’” It’s not that the words themselves are hard to understand, it’s not that we need to consult a dictionary or thesaurus. It’s not as if Jesus is speaking here in code. Yes, He’s speaking a little mysteriously, but anyone who has been with Jesus throughout His ministry, or anyone who has read the Gospels, who has heard the three passion predictions, knows exactly what He is saying. In a little while He goes to die, they will see not see Him, He will dwell in the belly of the grave, but that is not the end of the story. For it is only a ‘little while’ and they will see Him again, He will rise victorious over the grave, “and no one will take your joy from you.”<br /><br />So it is not the words themselves that cause us the trouble, it is the consequences of these words, it is living out these words. We do not know what Jesus is talking about because we have to live through the ‘little while.’ For the disciples, “a little while and you will not see me” meant that very shortly, in just a ‘little while,’ a night of horrors would begin. They would see their Lord, their Master, their friend and the One they depended on betrayed by one of their own, handed over to a midnight court, and then condemned to the cruelest death imaginable. To the disciples, “a little while and you will see me” meant hours of waiting with Jesus’ cold, dead body languishing in the grave, a day of darkness so excruciating that many lost their faith, and nearly their minds. Jesus’ ‘a little while’ was overwhelming, crushing, it seemed to never end, and they couldn’t understand why. “We do not know what He is talking about.”<br /><br />You and I understand their confusion. We too live in Jesus’ ‘a little while,’ living in the valley of the shadow of death without seeing our Lord. We dwell in a Holy Saturday that never seems to end, waiting and watching for Jesus to rescue us from our misery, and not understanding why this ‘little while’ is taking so long. We do not see Jesus, He has departed again, ascended to the right hand of the throne of God, but what we do see is what distresses us. “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament,” Jesus says, “You will be sorrowful,” He emphasizes, and He never spoke truer words. As the disciples languished in sorrow on Holy Saturday, so we languish in sorrow all the time. We feel like Jesus has abandoned us, that He has left us to languish in our sin and in the midst of a sinful world. To all appearances, Easter hasn’t changed anything; our baptism seems to have been a waste of time, Jesus doesn’t seem to love us or care how much we suffer. Job argued over and over again that the wicked often prosper while the righteous suffer, and Jesus here guarantees it: “You will be sorrowful.” And we do not understand why: “We do not know what He is talking about.” As a pastor, probably the question I am asked most often, in one way or another, is, “Why am I suffering?” Perhaps we started out patient, but as time goes on and sufferings pile up, there is an added urgency to our cries. We don’t understand what’s going on, we do not know what Jesus is talking about, ‘a little while’ seems interminable, we cannot see Jesus, we can only see suffering, and we are bearing the brunt of His words, “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice.”<br /><br />That is what it looks like in the midst of ‘a little while.’ The Church at large, and individual Christians, sorrowing and suffering, wondering just how long ‘a little while’ will last, not seeing their Lord, only their sufferings. And all around them, the world rejoices, the world that hates Jesus and His followers celebrating victory after victory, Satan enjoying the torture of Christ’s saints. The world doesn’t see Jesus, and it is glad, because to all appearances its great enemy has been defeated. The foe was triumphant, when on Calvary, the Lord of Creation was nailed to the tree. In Satan’s domain did the hosts shout and jeer, for Jesus was slain, whom the evil one’s fear. You see them gloat, mocking Christ and His Church with seeming impunity, and the frustration of Christians only increases their fun. Nothing happens as they deride your Lord and run down His saints. Instead, they sit in smug victory, rejoicing with every suffering Christian.<br /><br />But short was their triumph; only ‘a little while.’ The world killed the Lord of glory, their foe and bitter enemy, but in ‘a little while,’ their victory turned into defeat, their rejoicing into mourning. The tomb was robbed, the grave left empty; the enemy they had left behind them dead and defeated rose to put an end to their victory party. Jesus rose to turn the world upside down, to give mourning in the place of rejoicing and rejoicing in the place of mourning. The world didn’t see Jesus for ‘a little while,’ and they thought victory had been won, but now they see Him again, a terror to His foes. John cries out in the first chapter of Revelation, “Behold, He is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see Him, even those who pierced Him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of Him.” In ‘a little while,’ the world will see Jesus again, coming with the clouds of heaven, and He, whom they mocked and killed, the Head of His body, the Church, which they persecuted and harassed for these many centuries, will return as the judge of the living and the dead. In just ‘a little while,’ the world’s smirk will be wiped off its face, in just ‘a little while,’ the world’s joy will be turned into sorrow.<br /><br />In just ‘a little while,’ the sorrow of Christ’s suffering people will be turned into joy. “You have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.” The same vision that gives the world terror, that melts those who stand against Christ’s Church, will give you joy. Satan oppressed you, sin overwhelmed you, death threatened you and finally took you, but their rejoicing, their victory, will be turned into sorrow, and joy will instead belong to you. On Easter morning, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb filled with sorrow. But as she wept, the promise of Jesus in our text for today was fulfilled, and her sorrow was turned into joy. “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me.” No one understood those words when He spoke them, but when Jesus looked Mary in the eye, risen and glorified, she finally understood. We do not understand why we must suffer so, we do not understand ‘a little while,’ but like Mary, we will. When we see our Lord face to face, then we will know that we have only been waiting ‘a little while.’<br /><br />Jesus’ promise is ‘a little while.’ He guarantees that your suffering has a termination, an end, that this world does not have the victory, but is foolishly rejoicing in defeat. That is the promise of the cross and the empty tomb: Satan has been dealt with, sin has been paid for, death robbed. The world has no victory over you, but has already been defeated. Your sorrows will terminate, but joy will never end. Jesus led the way, winning joy—eternal joy—through His sorrow and sufferings; He too walked through the valley of the shadow of death to the joys of eternity. Without the sorrow of the cross, no joy is possible, without the death of Jesus sorrow lasts not ‘a little while,’ but for eternity. Because Christ has passed that way before us and in our place, we know that all the sufferings of this world last only ‘a little while,’ and a Day is coming when they will not be remembered any more. “When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” This joy drives away all sorrow, because this joy lasts forever. In this world, you will have tribulation, but take heart, Christ has overcome the world, your sufferings have an end in perfect joy. Saint Paul captures it perfectly: “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”<br /><br />‘A little while’ doesn’t remove the hurt, ‘a little while’ doesn’t eliminate the pain. ‘A little while’ will not immediately bring back your lost parent or child, it will not restore your marriage. ‘A little while’ doesn’t remove all the questions: “We do not know what He is talking about.” As a pastor, when people ask, ‘why am I suffering?’ I desperately want to take away their afflictions like the apostles of old. There are times that I wish I was a faith healer, and could simply say, ‘be healed,’ and their sufferings would be gone. But I am not an apostle, and neither are those faith healers, all they have to sell is a false theology and empty promises. Instead, I, along with all faithful pastors throughout the centuries, are to preach, we are to bring God’s Word to the hospital bed and the living room of those entrusted to our care. We are not given to ‘fix’ suffering, we have been given to say: ‘a little while.’ ‘A little while’ means that all suffering has an end, ‘a little while’ means that relief is coming, ‘a little while’ means that the cancer, the heart disease, the family conflict, the addiction, your sinful desires, even death itself, do not have the victory, but their days are numbered, in the new heavens and the new earth, they will not even be remembered. The cross and the empty tomb guarantee it. As Jesus was raised, so you too will be raised, and you will see Him face to face in an eternity that will be characterized by joy. Sorrow has a termination; joy will last forever. “So also you have sorrow now, but I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you.” In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-84695928910053469332017-04-20T10:10:00.005-04:002017-04-20T10:10:53.919-04:00Easter Sunrise (Isaiah 25:6-9)“It will be said on that day, ‘Behold, this is our God; we have waited for Him, that He might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for Him; let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation.’” Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen! Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen! Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen! Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our crucified and risen Lord Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning of joy is the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the twenty-fifth chapter of the prophet Isaiah. Dear friends in Christ: come to the feast! You have fasted long, come eat, come drink! You have held back your alleluias, come sing them so that all the earth can hear! You have spent forty days in repentance, come rejoice in the forgiveness won by Jesus! You have worn the mourning veil, come watch Christ swallow it up! “And He will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations.” You have wept, come to have your tears dried! You have been ashamed, come in guilt and shame no more! “The Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of His people He will take away from all the earth.” Come to the feast, come partake of the good things Christ has to give; His abundance is for you!<br /><br />Come to the Mountain to eat and drink. Do not be deceived by its humility, do not be offended at its stature. Do three steps make a mountain? Yes, if the Lord’s feast is there! “On this mountain the Lord of hosts will make for all peoples a feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wine, of rich food full of marrow, of aged wine well refined.” Come to this mountain, come to the feast; here Christ feeds His people the wedding banquet of the Lamb in His kingdom, the marriage supper of the Lamb. Here He is both host and meal; here the sacrifice sits at the head of the table, giving His Body and His Blood to eat and drink. He bears the scars, but the nails afflict Him no longer; He was slain, but now lives forevermore. No sacrifice ever sat at the head of his own feast, but this one does, for He lives, never to die again, and He lives to feed His people. Rich food He gives: Body and Blood riding on bread and wine.<br /><br />Rich food, the very Body of the incarnate Son of God, the Lamb without spot or defect. The costliest gift that God could ever give, given into death on the cross, given to you in this feast. Well-aged wine, the Blood shed from the very foundation of the world. Every drop the most valuable liquid this earth has ever drunk, and it is poured out on the ground for your salvation, and poured out into your mouth in this feast. His holy, precious blood, and His innocent suffering and death, given on this mountain, given in this feast. The promise complete, the prophecies all fulfilled. God doesn’t lie, and today He gives you the proof. Rich food full of marrow, aged wine well refined, food which gives life, food which annihilates death, food which fills us body and soul for eternity, food on this Mountain which gives us all that He won on another mountain, so long ago.<br /><br />Come to the Mountain, see your Lord hang derelict and still. Do not be deceived by its appearance, do not be offended at its horror. Does a knobby, rocky little hill make a mountain? Yes, if the Lord of glory is perched on its top, suspended high upon the cross. Then this hill of death and punishment is the very Mountain of the Lord, the Mountain of salvation. On that Mountain God offers His sacrifice, it is the high place where the altar is constructed. On that Mountain God does not spare His Son as He commanded Abraham to spare his, on that Mountain God Himself provides the fire for the sacrifice, and the consuming fire of His wrath is poured on His Son. On that Mountain God Himself provides the sacrifice that His justice demands, He gives His Son into death. And on that Mountain, death greedily swallows up Jesus, as the whale swallowed up Jonah, thinking it has won the victory, and it takes the Lord of life into its slimy, stinky gullet.<br /><br />Come to the mountain and see the place where death holds its prisoners. Do not be deceived by its peace, do not be offended at its lack of prominence. Does a peaceful hillside in a garden, with a cave cut into it like the wound of a spear-thrust, make a mountain? Yes, if the Lord of glory dwells in its belly. Then this hill of captivity is the very Mountain of the Lord, the Mountain of salvation. For look! This Mountain is not full any longer, but it stands empty, gaping and hollow; its prey has been taken away, never to return again. Death swallowed up Jesus, but it could not hold Him, it could not keep Him, the grave will stand empty of Jesus forever. Jesus picked up His life again after having laid it down, and He left the tomb as empty as He found it. Death thought it had the victory, but victory was robbed from it; certain victory turned on Easter morning to certain defeat. Death swallowed up Jesus, and now Jesus goes forth to swallow up death.<br /><br />“And He will swallow up on this mountain the covering that is cast over all peoples, the veil that is spread over all nations.” Come to the feast, for this is a feast of destruction! Come to the feast, where what He takes away is just as important as what He gives! On this Mountain, Jesus swallows up every barrier between you and your God. On this Mountain, Jesus destroys every one of your enemies. On this Mountain, the mountain stained with His blood, the mountain gashed with an empty tomb, the mountain on which the feast is laid, every veil and covering is swallowed up. Our world was shrouded in darkness, choking, thick darkness, smothering us with sin, death, and suffering. We could not see God, we were blind to Him, and the veil of mourning simply hid our tears. But on this mountain, every covering is destroyed.<br /><br />Come to the feast of destruction! Here the covering that divided you from you God is abolished! No barrier remains, no divide exists; your sin has been paid for, done away with, eliminated. You are in fellowship with your God, the divide is gone, the harmony of the garden restored; He is your God and you are His people. Come to the feast of destruction! Here the shroud that hid your eyes from God has been destroyed! No spiritual blindness remains where Christ preaches His Word; He opens eyes, He creates faith, He makes enemies of God into beloved children. You can see your God with the eyes of faith, and a Day is coming when your own eyes will see Him, and not another; the time for faith will be over, and the time for sight will have begun. Come to the feast of destruction! Here the mourning veil will be removed; Jesus Himself will take it from before your tear-stained eyes, for He has replaced sorrow with victory.<br /><br />Come to the feast of destruction! Here your greatest enemy is annihilated. “He will swallow up death forever; and the Lord God will wipe away tears from all faces, and the reproach of His people He will take away from all the earth, for the Lord has spoken.” On this Mountain, tears are destroyed, they are wiped out, eliminated, abolished, ended forever. Jesus has gone to war with your tears, and He has defeated them. Jesus has gone to war with death itself, and He has left the tomb behind in victory. At this feast, at this table, Jesus stoops down low to you and in tenderness wipes your face clean. He doesn’t tell you not to weep, for He knows that you will weep in your journey through the valley of the shadow of death. But here He wipes away your every tear, here He comforts you with His victory, here He gives you the promise of a mountain and a feast where tears will be no more. For at this feast, on this Mountain, He takes away all that is evil and gives to you all that is good.<br /><br />Come to the feast of destruction! Here your sin and guilt, your shame and embarrassment, is removed. At this feast, there is no more humiliation, at this feast, Christ looks down on no one, at this feast, each is given the honor belonging to Christ Himself. You belong to God, every one of you, for your sins are forgiven and you have been made His child. You each are loved by your God, because Christ loved you into the grave and then back out again. No more divide, no more blindness, no more tears, no more death, no more guilt and shame. Only rich food full of marrow, and aged wine well-refined. At this feast there is life in place of death and forgiveness in place of sin. At this feast you eat and are satisfied.<br /><br />Come to the feast! Come to the feast where death is destroyed, come to the feast where every covering is swallowed up, come to the feast where reproach is taken away from the earth. Come to the feast that points forward to a greater feast to come, on the final Mountain, Mount Zion, where the Lamb who was slain will hold His marriage supper for all eternity. On that Mountain, on that Day, we will say, as we say on this Mountain, on this day: “Behold, this is our God; we have waited for Him, that He might save us. This is the Lord; we have waited for Him; let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation.” On that Mountain, there will never be a tear again, on that Mountain, no one will ever feel guilt or shame ever again, on that Mountain, every barrier between God and man will be torn down forever, and you will see with your own eyes what you today see with the eyes of faith. <br /><br />Let no one fear death, for the Savior’s death has set us free. He who was held prisoner of it, has annihilated it. Death took a body, and met God face to face. It took earth, and encountered Heaven. It took that which was seen, and fell upon the unseen. O Death, where is your sting? O hell, where is your victory? Christ is risen, and you are overthrown. Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen. Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice. Christ is risen, and life reigns. Christ is risen, and not one of the dead will remain in the grave. For Christ, being risen from the dead, has become the first-fruits of those who have fallen asleep. Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen! Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen! Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen!Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-75880438822525790432017-04-15T10:13:00.002-04:002017-04-15T10:13:32.037-04:00Good Friday (John 19:19-22)“Pilate also wrote an inscription and put it on the cross. It read, ‘Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.’ Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek. So the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but rather, “This man said, I am the King of the Jews.”’ Pilate answered, ‘What I have written, I have written.’” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this holy night, Good Friday is that portion of the Gospel lesson that I just read, from John chapter nineteen. Dear friends in Christ: the charge was placed upon the tree, a sign to declare to all who passed why this man, or any man, should suffer so. Such signs were public declarations that justice was being done, and they were warnings: do not go and do likewise, or you will find yourself nailed to a tree. I N R I. We still place it upon our crucifixes, the Latin abbreviation of this title written in three languages. Iesus Nazarenus Rex Iudaeorum. Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. This Jesus suffers so, this Jesus will die, because He is the King of the Jews. Pilate didn’t really believe it, or else he would’ve swiftly approved crucifixion for a rebel and usurper; any political threat to Caesar’s authority must be quickly dealt with. The Jews didn’t believe it, or else they wouldn’t have called out for His death.<br /><br />Who could believe it? Who could look at this Jesus, beaten, bloodied, and dying, and think that Pilate’s sign was anything other than a dark and sarcastic joke? “We esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” This is the King of the Jews? Naked, scourged, bleeding from every pore; He who once commanded crowds of thousands with His words now hangs between two thieves, their equal in torture, their equal in suffering, their equal in death. The One called by Pilate, the One proclaimed by the sign above His head as ‘the King of the Jews’ is a beaten mess. When He cries out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” we have no answer, but we agree with His cry. This man is forsaken by God, abandoned by Him. No man has ever suffered more, in the history of the world, than the One called ‘King of the Jews.’ “He had no form or majesty that we should look at Him, and no beauty that we should desire Him.” All who pass Him deride Him, they reject Him, they are horrified at the spectacle that hangs above their head. The sign upon the tree, denoting majesty and honor, nobility and beauty, points to a man who has none of these things, whose very appearance is a terror, from which men shield their eyes.<br /><br />“As many were astonished at you—His appearance was so marred, beyond human semblance, and His form beyond that of the children of mankind.” This is the King of the Jews? He barely appears to be human, much less a king, and those who cried out for His death want it to be made clear that they utterly and completely reject Him. “the chief priests of the Jews said to Pilate, ‘Do not write, “The King of the Jews,” but rather, “This man said, I am the King of the Jews.”’” He is not our king, they say, they declare as loudly and insistently as they can. They want no such king; they refuse to be ruled by a man who suffers so. This is not the kind of king we would choose. We want our rulers to be strong leaders, we want our heroes to be mighty warriors, we want those whom we choose to exercise authority to be worthy of honor, not just from us, but from everyone else. We want our rulers to look the part. And this One declared the King of the Jews does not look the part. He is weak, He is bloody, He is rejected by the mob and condemned by the governor, scourged and nailed to a tree, His crown made of thorns. He has no attendants, all who followed Him have scattered, only a few women and one young disciple are left. “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.” Most reject Him, most want nothing to do with such a king, most refuse to be associated in any way with such weakness. “Do not write, ‘The King of the Jews,’ but rather, ‘This man said, I am the King of the Jews.’”<br /><br />But Pilate refuses. In spite, the governor, who has been bullied by the chief priests and their mob the entire day, gets in one last jab. This man, hanging upon the tree, beaten, bloodied, dying, is declared to the world to be their king. “Pilate answered, ‘What I have written I have written.’” He doesn’t believe it, but still he declares it. The governor, the Roman government in that place, the representative of Caesar, whose authority ultimately comes from God Himself, imposes this dying man upon the Jewish people. This is their king. He refuses to take the sign down; he has spoken his last word on the matter. “Kings shall shut their mouths because of Him; for that which has not been told them they see, and that which they have not heard they understand.” Pilate has not read the Scriptures; he knows nothing about God’s promises, but what those who have been told about the Messiah refuse to see, what those who have heard the prophecies refuse to understand, he confesses, despite himself. In his vengeance toward those who have humiliated him, Pilate makes the good confession: the Suffering Servant is the King of the Jews. This man, suspended between earth and heaven, hanging there in order to die, is the King of the Jews. This man, despised and rejected by men, whose appearance is so marred that He is barely recognizable as human, is the King of the Jews.<br /><br />His throne is a cross, His reign is established in blood, for both Pilate and the chief priests are part of a much larger drama, the conflict between this King and His foes: sin, death, and Satan. The cross is not an isolated tragedy, or a miscarriage of justice, this is justice, done upon the King for the sake of those over whom He rules. “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.” The King is a servant, and He establishes His throne by dying for His people, defeating their enemies by surrendering Himself to them in our place. He laid Himself into the jaws of death bearing the iniquity of His people; He did not die for Himself, for any crime that He committed, He died because He is the King of the Jews, the Messiah, and the Messiah does one thing: He dies in the place of His people. “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.” This is the King we need, no matter how weak and rejected He is, no matter how horrifying He is to our eyes. This is the King we need, because He dies the death we deserved. He was forsaken by God so that you would never be forsaken, justice was done upon Him so that it would not be done on you. This is your King—this is Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews, as Pilate declares and God confirms three days later. For the King of the Jews is not just the One who dies for His people, but the One who rises again in victory for them over the grave. “When His soul makes an offering for sin, He shall see His offspring, He shall prolong His days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in His hand.”<br /><br />The will of the Lord is that this King establish His rule over all creation, that the crucified and risen One will be not just the King of the Jews, but the King of all, Jew and Gentile. The will of the Lord is that the confession of Pilate is published throughout the world, a mission that Pilate Himself began. “Many of the Jews read this inscription, for the place where Jesus was crucified was near the city, and it was written in Aramaic, in Latin, and in Greek.” Pilate gives us a preview of Pentecost, as the proclamation of the Suffering Servant as King goes out in the languages of the world. To all creation this message goes forth: this is your King, the Suffering Servant. Do not despise Him as the chief priests did, do not refuse this title of love. Do not look down upon His sufferings, His marred face, His lack of form or beauty, for He did this all for you. He is your King, and He is your King chiefly in suffering for you, His people. “Out of the anguish of His soul He shall see and be satisfied; by His knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant make many to be accounted righteous, and He shall bear their iniquities.” He has made you righteous, for He, the righteous One, has borne your iniquities and paid their penalty, once for all people, once for all time. “Pilate said, ‘What I have written, I have written.’” May these words stand forever as a banner of love, of victory, of salvation. I N R I. Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews. In His Name, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-29162638462327440962017-04-11T09:34:00.004-04:002017-04-11T09:34:56.295-04:00Holy Monday (John 12:1-23)“Leave her alone, so that she may keep it for the day of my burial. The poor you always have with you but you do not always have me.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this Holy Monday is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the twelfth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint John, particularly the first eleven verses. Dear friends in Christ: We are Lazarus. Raised from the dead, brought over from death to life, summoned forth from the grave by the powerful word of Jesus. He made us alive, crying: “Lazarus, come out!” “I baptize you in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” He made us alive, He raised us out of our watery grave new and alive, a new man, to live before God our Father in righteousness and purity forever. He raised us to dine with Him, to have table fellowship with the One who raised us, to sit us at the table with Him. “Six days before the Passover, Jesus therefore came to Bethany, where Lazarus was, whom Jesus had raised from the dead. So they gave a dinner for Him there. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those reclining with Him at the table.” We are Lazarus, gathered at the table of Jesus again and again, receiving His Body and Blood in fellowship with Him, who is both host and meal. Our life in this world is sustained by this meal, this fellowship with our Lord at this altar. Those who are raised by Jesus dine with Jesus, forever. We are Lazarus.<br /><br />We are Mary. Thankful for all that Jesus has done for us, filled with deep and abiding affection, overwhelmed by His grace and love. No price is too high, no expense too great, to show our love for our Lord. “Mary therefore took a pound of expensive ointment made from pure nard, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped His feet with her hair.” In humility, we offer all that we have to our Lord; our lives, our very selves into His service. Our costliest gifts are hardly enough, but they are all we have to give. In humility, we give thanks to Jesus for making us alive, for releasing us from bondage, for pulling us out of the grave with His powerful cry of command. We gather here in this place to praise the Lord who raised us from the dead, to fill this place with our joy. “The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.”<br /><br />We are Mary. Mary embraced Christ’s burial, she rejoiced in it. In boldness, she prepared our Lord for His death, a death that was just around the corner, that was lurking ahead. She knew what was coming, she heard the predictions of our Lord’s Passion, and she did not fear, she did not hesitate, she did not question, but prepared His body beforehand for burial. The thought of His death filled her with love, with devotion, not fear or revulsion. She knows the time is urgent, she knows that while she has a lifetime to serve others, Jesus’ departure is soon, and she pours out herself in humility for Jesus. And Jesus gives Himself to her. He gives Himself to Mary to be anointed, He receives her love in all of its beauty. He gives Himself to the saints, to those who love Him, so that He can be anointed by their love. He receives the gifts we bring, accepting them in joy as thanksgivings for His salvation. We are Mary, and the fragrance of our love fills the room. But there is not only Mary in that room, or in our heart.<br /><br />We are Judas. Greedy for the things of this world, concerned only with ourselves, filled with confusion about the coming Kingdom of God. “Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to the poor?” Any price is too high, any gift is too extravagant. Spending money on the Church, especially the beauty of God’s house, is more than wasteful, we imply that it is sinful. We cover our greed and selfishness with a veneer of piety, but at the core, we are concerned only with ourselves. “He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief, and having charge of the moneybag he used to help himself to what was put into it.” Why put what is mine into a dying cause? Why give up what belongs to me, what I have earned, for something that has no tangible benefit? Why sacrifice my life, why sacrifice my things, to Christ and His Church? We reject the burial of Jesus because we know what it might mean for us: our own burial. Christ may call on us to die a physical death for His sake, but we are all called on to die to our desires, to our sinful nature, to lay down everything and follow Him. We are called upon to die to ourselves, and for Judas’s like us, the price is too high.<br /><br />We are Judas. Judas despised Christ’s burial, he rejected it. The burial of Jesus is an offense to him, he has scorned Christ’s death and all that it means. No Messiah he wishes to follow would allow himself to be killed; no deliverer worth believing in would be scourged and crucified. If that is the kind of ‘Messiah’ that Jesus wants to be, then Judas will be glad to oblige. And Jesus gives Himself to him. He gives Himself to Judas to be kissed, the kiss of betrayal, the kiss that would lead to the cross. He gives Himself to sinners, to those who love themselves, so that they can do their worst to Him. He gives Himself to a world that hates Him, He gives Himself to Judas, for the supreme act of humble love. “He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in His mouth. When He was reviled, He did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but continued entrusting Himself to the One who judges justly.” <br /><br />He gives Himself to those who love Him, and He gives Himself to those who hate Him. Mary prepared Jesus for burial, and so did Judas; Mary by anointing, Judas by betraying. And Jesus received both anointing and betraying for the sake of the world. “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed.” Mary gave a precious gift to her Lord: “a pound of expensive ointment made from pure nard.” Jesus gave an even more precious gift to Lazarus, to Mary, yes, also to Judas, even to you and to me: His pure, spotless life, the costliest gift that could ever be given, the precious blood of the incarnate Son of God. The same body anointed by Mary, the same body betrayed by Judas, would be laid into the grave. But the burial of Jesus was not the end. He trusted in His Father’s vindication. “The Lord God helps me; therefore, I have not been disgraced; therefore, I have set my face like a flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame.” Jesus is Lazarus; on the third day He who raises the dead would Himself be raised in victory, so that He could go forth and raise others, so that He could raise you and me. <br /><br /> We are Lazarus, raised from the dead by the powerful Word of Christ; we are Mary, humbly devoted to our Lord, refusing to be offended by His burial; we are Judas, self-seeking and self-centered, rejecting the burial of Jesus and all that it implies. We who are Lazarus are Mary and Judas; at the same time saint and sinner. Our life in Christ is then putting Judas to death and raising up Mary; Jesus raised us up to die, to die to Judas, to die to the world, to die with our Lord. “So the chief priests made plans to put Lazarus to death as well, because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus.” The world hates those who have been raised by Christ. The world hates every Lazarus, because every Lazarus is a testimony to the power of Jesus, the world’s enemy, and because through every Lazarus many believe. So the cry goes up: ‘Kill Lazarus!’ But the world is foolish. How can it destroy one who has already been raised from the dead? Jesus has raised Lazarus once, He can certainly do it again. Jesus has raised you once, He can certainly do it again. He can, and He will. <br /><br />Death has already been shorn of its power over you, this world can do nothing to you; you who have been raised up in the font will be raised up on the Last Day. You will follow the path of Jesus, as Peter says: “Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, that you might follow in His steps.” You are Lazarus; you follow your Lord into death, and you follow Him back out of death again into life. You go forth with the confidence that Jesus had, the confidence that He would be vindicated, the confidence that He would be raised, that His enemies would not triumph over Him. As Jesus Himself, who passed this way for us, declares, “Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the name of the Lord and rely on his God.” In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-9814090059230029602017-04-07T10:07:00.003-04:002017-04-07T10:07:38.129-04:00Judica (John 8:46-59)“Jesus said to them, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM.’” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the eighth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint John. Dear friends in Christ: you can’t have Jesus as simply a good teacher. You can’t have Jesus as only your friend, your companion. You can’t have Jesus solely as a philosopher or giver of advice. You can’t make Jesus a saint, a doer of good deeds, a banner for political or social causes without considering these words: “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM.” Anyone who claims to have any opinion about Jesus must deal with these words; they cannot be ignored. They came from the same lips that said, “A new commandment I give you, that you love one another,” the same person who, just verses before, saved an adulterous woman from mob execution. The same Jesus who said all those wise sayings we like to hear, who did all those kind things we want to emulate, also said, “Before Abraham was, I AM.” Decades ago the Christian thinker C.S. Lewis wrote that when you are confronted with the question, ‘What do you think of Jesus?’ there are only three options. Either Jesus is a lunatic, that is, He thinks He is God and He isn’t, or He is a liar, that is, He knows He isn’t God and He’s the most successful con man in history, or He is Lord, that is, He knows He is God and He is telling you so.<br /><br />The Jews understood this dilemma perfectly. They actually listened to the words of Jesus—all His words—and they understood what He meant by them, better than most people today. Better than any political interest group, any social activist organization, better than many Christians, they took Jesus seriously. They looked beyond the miraculous healings and the wise sayings and they saw the fundamental claim of Jesus: ‘I am God walking this earth in the flesh, and all who believe in me have life in my name.’ “Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” They heard Jesus loud and clear, they understood Him perfectly, and they gave an answer: Jesus is a lunatic, or He is a liar, but He is certainly not the Lord. “The Jews answered Him, ‘Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?’”<br /><br />The Jews didn’t want Jesus as a teacher, they didn’t want Him as a friend; they cared little for His wise sayings, and they despised His acts of mercy, because they rejected who He claimed to be. Why take the advice of a crazy person? Why appreciate the miracles of a con man? Why befriend a liar? They were much more honest than most who deal with Jesus today, who superficially follow Jesus, who see Him as an advocate for a cause, the companion we lack in this world. We think we can have Jesus without dealing with the words of our text, but the Jews knew better; they took Jesus’ claims seriously, and they rejected them. They didn’t want a superficial Jesus, they didn’t want Jesus as a banner or slogan, they didn’t want a Jesus who made them feel better about themselves. If Jesus wasn’t God, as He claimed, then He was of no value to them.<br /><br />They took Jesus seriously, they took the question ‘What do you think of Jesus?’ seriously, and they gave their answer. There is only one problem: they were wrong. “Jesus answered, ‘I do not have a demon, but I honor my Father, and you dishonor me.’” Any false view of Jesus dishonors Him, any view that calls Him a liar or a lunatic just as much as any view that doesn’t take His claims seriously. Jesus is dishonored when people call Him simply a good teacher, He is dishonored when His compassion for the sick and needy is emphasized at the expense of His claim to divinity. He is dishonored when you simply think of Him as a good friend or companion, but not as your Lord. He is dishonored when His salvation is minimized or ignored, when His cross is skipped over in favor of His teachings or miracles. Jesus told us what is important: “Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.”<br /><br />The Jews took His claim of salvation seriously. They heard Him loud and clear. “Now we know that you have a demon! Abraham died, as did the prophets, yet you say, ‘If anyone keeps my Word, he will never taste death.’” They bring forth Abraham as their expert witness, claiming that he testifies against Jesus by the fact that he still lies in the grave. “Are you greater than our father Abraham, who died? And the prophets died! Who do you make yourself out to be?” But Jesus takes their witness and turns him against them; Abraham knew of Jesus and confessed Him. “Your Father Abraham rejoiced that he would see my day. He saw it and was glad.” Abraham rejoiced when he saw the day of Jesus in God’s promise that all the nations of the earth would be blessed in his offspring, Abraham rejoiced when he saw the day of Jesus in the provision of a ram in place of his son Isaac. He saw the day when the very Lamb of God would substitute for all sinful people, when that Lamb would be placed on the altar instead of Isaac or Abraham, you or me. He saw that day coming, and He was glad. He didn’t call the name of that place ‘The Lord has provided,’ but “The Lord will provide,” and thousands of years later it would be just outside the city built on that very mountain where God would provide the Lamb for the sacrifice, once for all people, once for all sin.<br /><br />For it is God Himself who testifies to Jesus, who glorifies Him, who honors Him. “Jesus answered, ‘If I glorify myself, my glory is nothing. It is my Father who glorifies me, of whom you say, ‘He is our God.’” Jesus takes their every witness away from them. Not only does Abraham testify to Jesus as Lord, but God the Father, who they claim to worship, calls Jesus His own. The Father glorifies the Son. Jesus doesn’t seek His own glory, He doesn’t grasp after the honor from all men that is certainly His due. He will wait patiently for His Father to glorify Him, to witness to His identity throughout the world. “I do not seek my own glory; there is One who seeks it, and He is the judge.” And the Father will seek the glory of His Son. He glorified Him when the angels sang at His birth, when the Magi brought great gifts. He glorified Him when He testified to His identity at His baptism in the Jordan and on the mountain of Transfiguration. But those were simply previews of the glory to come, glory that would begin in the strangest way. <br /><br />When Jesus is nailed to the tree, when He is lifted up high upon a cross, at the moment when the Jews said, ‘I knew He was a liar or a lunatic!’—there the Father is glorifying His Son. He is glorifying Jesus as the sacrifice for the sin of the world, He is glorifying Jesus as the Lamb who substitutes for us as the ram substituted for Isaac. As the sun is darkened and the earth quakes, God is glorifying His Son as your Savior. That is who Jesus is—not a liar, not a lunatic, not simply a good teacher, wise philosopher, good buddy, or political activist, but your Savior. He is given bloody glory as the deliverer or all people from sin, death, and the power of the devil. The proof is three days later, as Jesus leaves an empty tomb behind. From there He passes from glory to glory, as He ascends to heaven, taking His place at the right hand of the throne of God, from whence He will return on the Last Day, when all people will give Him the honor and glory that He is due, with joy on the one hand, and with weeping and gnashing of teeth on the other, the terrible realization that having dishonored Jesus they have dishonored the Father, and His words of judgment are true: “Whoever is of God hears the words of God. The reason why you do not hear them is that you are not of God.”<br /><br />That’s why they reject Him; while they take His words seriously, they refuse to believe them. “You are not yet fifty years old, and you have seen Abraham?” They could never have predicted what Jesus would say next: “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM.” The world so often doesn’t take these words seriously, it doesn’t understand, but the Jews did. “So they picked up stones to throw at Him, but Jesus hid Himself and went out of the temple.” They know what Jesus claimed, they know that with this simple phrase Jesus was declaring Himself to be not just before Abraham, but the God of Abraham, the very One who spoke in the burning bush, true God from eternity. Liar, lunatic, or Lord? Their actions tell the tale, and it will only be a matter of time before Jesus hides Himself no longer and they nail Him to a cross.<br /><br />What do you think of Jesus? Is He a liar, lunatic, or Lord? Is he simply a good teacher, a wise companion in life’s journey, an example of compassion, the friend that you cannot find anywhere else, or is He your Savior? Is He simply good for you in this life, to help you make it through your day, or is He of eternal significance? So many churches and so many pastors spend all their time on the former, but Saint Paul says, “If in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.” A Jesus who only helps us during our life on this earth is worthless, and those who follow Him are most to be pitied. He did not come so that your life in this world would be comfortable before you spent eternity in hell. Jesus Himself declares why He has come. “If anyone keeps my Word, he will never taste death.”<br /><br />Jesus has come to give you eternal life, to deliver you from the bonds and shackles of sin and death. Jesus has come to forgive all your sins by dying in your place. Jesus has come so that you will live forever. Through the cross and empty tomb, Jesus was vindicated, He was proven to be the Son of God and the sacrifice for the sin of the world. Through the cross and the empty tomb, the Father was vindicated, as He was proven just and loving, exacting justice on Jesus to show love to you. And through the cross and empty tomb, you are vindicated, you are rescued from your enemies and made right with your God. You are justified, declared righteous in God’s sight through the death and resurrection of Jesus for your sake. That is a Jesus worthy of honor, that is a Jesus worthy of joy and gladness, that is a Jesus glorified by His Father, not a lunatic, not a liar, but your Lord and your Savior. In His Name, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-69182806202661977252017-03-23T10:37:00.004-04:002017-03-23T10:37:39.574-04:00Lent Midweek 3 (Isaiah 53:4-6)<div>
The following is adapted from a sermon series by Rev. Rolf Preus.</div>
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“Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds 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.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this day is that portion of Isaiah’s suffering servant song that I just read, Isaiah chapter fifty-three, verses four through six. Dear friends in Christ: when sheep wander into the wilderness, they turn away from life to death, they stray from protection and safety into danger and terror. “All we like sheep have gone astray.” We have wandered, we have strayed, we have turned away from the God who gives life to wander in sin and death. All mankind fell in Adam’s fall, all like sheep have gone astray since the first man and woman entered into the wilderness, and we are lost, condemned to die in the desert. <br /><br />How can wandering sheep return? How can we turn back to God after we have turned away from Him? Surely, we need forgiveness, but our sin seems to be a wall between us and our God. How can God forgive sin? How can God forgive me, a sinner? How can I know that when I have sinned against God that I can receive any mercy from Him, any grace, any forgiveness? How can I know that He will be a loving Father for me, forgiving all my many sins against Him? Human reason cannot conceive of an answer, we cannot know this on our own. God Himself must teach us, and He does in our text. How can God be gracious to me, a sinner? Two words: vicarious atonement.<br /><br />These two words hardly seem to clear up the confusion. Perhaps you’ve never heard them before, or only in passing, a far-off memory of a bible class or confirmation lesson. But these words are life, they are your salvation. They reveal to you the suffering Servant whose suffering brings us forgiveness, peace and health. Every spiritual blessing God has to give He gives on account of the suffering of His Servant. The suffering of the Servant has opened to us the doors of Paradise, it has taken away our sin, reconciled us to God, and brought us eternal life. That is what the words ‘vicarious atonement’ teach us. His death is vicarious. That means the Servant did what He did, He suffered what He suffered, as our substitute. He took our place, He stood in as our representative. What was done to Him was supposed to have been done to us. His death is atonement. That means that the Servant did what He did to bring us back into fellowship with God, establishing true peace between Creator and creature by paying everything that we owed. Vicarious atonement. Those words describe the very center of our faith, and they reveal God’s love to us.<br /><br />“Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.” At first glance, it appears that the Servant suffered on His own account, for something He had done. But nothing could be further from the truth. They were our griefs. They were our sorrows. He didn’t just sympathize with our sorrows, our sins. He carried them, He bore them in His own body. While the Servant walked this earth, He healed many of the corruptions of sin. But every act of mercy, every declaration of forgiveness, every restoration of disease had a cost. The illnesses He cured He bore. The griefs He removed He suffered. The sins He forgave He died for. He paid the ultimate price for every gift He gives to His people, not only suffering, not only death, but the very wrath of God Himself.<br /><br />“Yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted.” Understand these words well: Stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. God did it, God put His Servant to death. We all know the political machinations that went on during Good Friday, the power games and the terrible miscarriage of justice that let Barabbas go free and an innocent man hang upon the cross. But do not be deceived. God did it. He used corrupt religious leaders and cowardly politicians to carry out His will, but He did it. When we see men abuse Jesus, we must remember that they are only instruments: He was stricken, smitten, and afflicted by God Himself. God punished His Servant. This is the most amazing kind of love, beyond anything the world has ever seen. It certainly doesn’t look like love. The Father strikes, smites, and afflicts His dear Son, the one whom He loved from all eternity. But make no mistake: this is love.<br /><br />“But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed.” This is love, love for you and me. When God punished Jesus, He punished the sins of all sinners of all times and place. Does God punish or does He forgive? On the cross, He does both at the same time. The Servant was wounded, the Servant was pierced, the Servant was punished, the Servant was crucified. For what? For our transgressions. God loves us, He forgives us, by punishing Jesus. “Upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace.” He was punished instead of us. God makes peace with us by punishing Jesus in our place. Vicarious atonement. That is love. “With His wounds we are healed.” The Servant was whipped, the Servant was scourged, the Servant bore a crown of thorns for us. All health was taken away from Him to give us healing. He takes our place and by taking our place He gives us what is His takes what is ours. In Jesus God is both gracious and just. He both forgives and punishes. God doesn’t forgive without paying the price for forgiveness. The reason we can know for certain that God forgives our sins is because He laid those sins on Jesus.<br /><br />“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.” This is love. Vicarious atonement. For Christ’s sake all our sins are forgiven. How do we know? “He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities.” We know because He bore our sins to the cross and paid the price for them there. His piercing pierced the dragon; His crushing crushed the head of the serpent, our ancient foe, because He was pierced and crushed in our place, removing the devil’s power over us. Vicarious atonement. This beautiful doctrine teaches us about our God, it gives us confidence that we can always run to God in repentance when we sin and find Him a loving, forgiving, and gracious Father who will never turn us away. We know our sins are forgiven because we know Christ. The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.<br /><br />It is only through the vicarious atonement that we are forgiven. Our sins aren’t forgiven because we believe they are forgiven, because we have faith. Our sins are forgiven because Jesus Christ, true God and true man, suffered and died for them. Jesus and Jesus alone takes away our sins by suffering and dying for them. But faith is still necessary, because faith receives this gift, it clings to the forgiveness that has been won. There is no one for whom Jesus did not die, and God forgives all those for whom Jesus died. God forgives the entire world. But the entire world is not saved. Forgiveness is not received except though faith. Only those who trust in Jesus for the forgiveness of sins receive from God the forgiveness of their sins. Apart from Christ, our sins are not forgiven; apart from faith in Him, we cannot receive that forgiveness. That is how wandering sheep return to their Master: the forgiveness of sins, purchased by Jesus, received by faith. Vicarious atonement. When we know Christ and Him crucified we know that God sees us at our very worst and forgives us all our sins, sets us at peace with Himself, and rescues us from death and hell. Like foolish sheep we wandered away. But by God’s grace we have returned to the Shepherd and Bishop of our souls. He sought out wandering sheep, and He paid the price for them, giving to you and to me green pastures and quiet waters, forever. In the Name of the Servant, Jesus Christ, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-79512792431110002062017-03-15T09:18:00.002-04:002017-03-16T11:55:45.450-04:00Reminiscere (Matthew 15:21-28)Neither Saint Matthew nor Saint Mark tell us how the Canaanite woman came to faith. There is no conversion story, no account of how she, who lived miles up the coast from the homeland of God’s people, heard of the one born King of the Jews. There is no digression by either evangelist, telling us how someone could believe who lived in the region of Tyre and Sydon, a place so wicked that the prophets and Jesus Himself repeatedly decree its ultimate destruction. We’re not told how a Canaanite woman, part of a people that Israel was to destroy centuries before, came to have faith in Israel’s Messiah. It’s often this way. There are many who come to Jesus who already believe in Him, who believe without seeing, who cry out to Him believing He can save. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” Faith cries out to God. Faith sees its object, its Lord walking this earth, and it cannot help but cry. For faith sees not only its Lord, faith sees its need. This is what believers do when they experience affliction: they cry out to the One who can heal, the One who can save, the object of their faith, the One who has promised to help. Faith cries as only faith can: “Have mercy on me.” Kyrie Eleison. Lord, have mercy. This is the right cry, the right prayer, directed at the right man, the only One who could help. She recognizes her God walking past her in the flesh, somehow, by some miracle, in her darkest, most desperate hour miles from His home, seemingly there simply to bring her daughter healing.<br />
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But her God doesn’t listen. “He did not answer her a word.” Silence. God ignores her cries. God doesn’t heal. God doesn’t save. She isn’t crying out to a false God, she isn’t offering a blasphemous prayer. In faith, she is crying out to the only true God, incarnate for her salvation. She is offering the prayer that Jesus has heard so many times, the prayer that seems to tug on His heartstrings, that causes Him to spring into action, the prayer that halts Him in His path. But not for her. Faith cries out, and God doesn’t listen. He doesn’t pause, He doesn’t stop, He doesn’t acknowledge her at all. Her God ignores her. He who has healed so many, who has given such great promises, is silent. The ministers of the church, the clergy, join their voices to hers, entreating her God to listen, to heal, to save. “And His disciples came and begged Him, saying, ‘Send her away, for she is crying out after us.’” But their prayers are no better than hers in moving God to action. She could’ve gone to Facebook, sent out a mass e-mail, called the church office to be put in the bulletin or on the prayer chain, but it would’ve made no difference. The volume of prayers makes doesn’t matter when God remains silent.<br />
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Faith cries out to the right person with the right prayer; faith cries out in humility, in sorrow, with tears, but God does not answer. It seems that unbelievers are quickly freed from their troubles; their time of trial is short and insignificant. They pray to the wrong gods, they pray in the wrong way, if they pray at all, and they seem to be blessed, while the children of God, who in their suffering take refuge in the true God only sink deeper and deeper into distress. There is no relief, there is no answer. They just continue to suffer. The fire gets hotter, the trials get tougher, the suffering gets worse.<br />
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Faith gets no reward for its cry, not even an acknowledgement. God, who is seemingly never at a loss for words, has no words or action for us, only silence. “And Jacob was left alone.” The sufferer feels alone, abandoned by God, abandoned by men, left to his own devices. And we can’t handle it. Like Jacob splitting his camp and sending people back and forth across the river, we try to fix the situation ourselves. We fill the silence with our own words, our own works. We put our trust in ourselves, or in other people, depending on human resources alone to fix our suffering. We are impatient, unwilling to wait for God’s answer. I want to be delivered right now, and if God won’t do it, I’ll quip praying, I’ll look somewhere else. But that is not the path of faith. Faith is persistent. Faith is not deterred. The silence of God is anguishing, but it does not stop the voice of faith. “She came and knelt before Him, saying, ‘Lord, help me.’”<br />
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Faith doesn’t quit crying out to God; faith doesn’t give up the fight. Martin Luther teaches us, “Even if [God] hides himself in a room in the house and does not want access to be given to anyone, do not draw back but follow. If he does not want to listen, knock at the door of the room; raise a shout!” Faith is persistent, faith is stubborn, faith refuses to be cast aside. Faith knows that there is no other place to go, that no one else can help if God Himself is silent. Faith enters the arena with God, faith takes Him on, faith wrestles with the God who has promised to be gracious. The woman doesn’t leave, though Jesus has given her every reason to; she doesn’t give up. But as Jacob wrestled with God all night, she is in it for the long haul. She will wrestle with her God, she will take Him on, and she will struggle with Him until the sun rises.<br />
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But this Jesus is no ordinary man, just as Jacob was wrestling with no normal combatant. “When the man saw that He did not prevail against Jacob, He touched his hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with Him.” When you wrestle with God, expect to be put in your place, expect to be reminded of who you are. “He answered, ‘I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.’” You deserve nothing from me; no grace, no mercy, no salvation. I came for the people of Israel, you have no reason to claim anything from me. Then He gives His most devastating blow, more terrible, more painful than Jacob’s hip being put out of socket. “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.” You are a Gentile dog. You have no right to ask anything of me, for you deserve nothing of what I have to give. You are a sinner, you are not part of my chosen people, you stand condemned.<br />
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So it is that God appears as our enemy. He not only ignores us, with devastating silence, but often He actually seems to be opposing us. The more we pray, the worse it gets. Job complained that the wicked prosper while the righteous suffer, the Psalmist threw up his hands and said, “All in vain have I kept my heart clean and washed my hands in innocence. For all the day long I have been stricken and rebuked every morning.” Loving, gentle Jesus, full of mercy and compassion for so many others, has nothing for us but His wrath; the wrestling match has left us defeated. Our hip is out of joint, we are crushed and crippled, filled with excruciating pain. God has given us every excuse to give up, to run the other way, to follow the advice of Job’s wife, echoed by many others in our lives, perhaps the voice in our own head: “Curse God and die.”<br />
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But faith does not let God go. “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” She doesn’t argue, she doesn’t dispute His accusation, the voice of God’s harsh Law. She agrees. She owns her sin, she owns her identity, she agrees that she deserves nothing from her God, that there is nothing Jesus has to give that she has earned. Faith knows that it has done nothing to deserve anything from God but His wrath. “I, a poor, miserable sinner…” She agrees with this truth, clearly revealed by God’s Law. But then she declares her trust in a truth that is greater than the truth of the Law. “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Yes, Lord, I am a dog. I deserve nothing from you but death and hell. But you came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost, and here I cling to your mercy, your grace. The crumbs are enough, they are sufficient, for they are everything. The crumbs from your table are a food that lasts to eternity, and you have them in such abundance that even those who wait under the table are filled with eternal life. <br />
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She doesn’t say this based on any merit of her own, any worthiness that she possesses. She clings not to herself, but to His promises. She knows she is not worthy, she hears the Law and she agrees with it, but she clings to a truth that is greater than the Law’s demands and threats: this Jesus has come to fulfill the Law’s demands and destroy its threats. She clings to the mercy of a God who promised a Savior from sin and death, who through this Messiah He will give the forgiveness of sins, along with every good gift. Like Jacob of old, on the basis of His promises, not her merit, she refuses to let her God go, she wrestles Him to the ground, saying, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”<br />
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This is the faith which conquers God. “Then Jesus answered her, ‘O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.’ And her daughter was healed instantly.” The Canaanite woman understood her identity as a fallen, sinful creature, and she knew His identity as the One who came into this world to save sinners. When God is silent, when He appears as our enemy, faith doesn’t give in or give up, but it clings to the promises God has given despite everything that it sees to the contrary. Martin Luther teaches us, “If [God] should cast me into the depths of hell and place me in the midst of devils, I would still believe that I would be saved because I have been baptized, I have been absolved, I have received the pledge of my salvation, the body and blood of the Lord in the Supper. Therefore I want to see and hear nothing else, but I shall live and die in this faith, whether God or an angel or the devil says the contrary.”<br />
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You do not look to your sufferings, your afflictions, your tribulations, or your sins to know what God thinks of you. You look to the cross where Jesus bled and died to win your salvation, and you look to your baptism, to the Lord’s Supper, to Absolution, where Jesus delivered that salvation directly to you. With those gifts, those pledges of God’s grace, you can then be persistent in prayer, but also patient, constantly crying out to God but waiting patiently for Him to answer, clinging to the ‘Yes,’ even when all you seem to hear is ‘No.’ And whether He answers your prayer in this life or in the next, He will deliver you from evil, He will give you every good gift. He will remember His promises, for He remembers your sins no more; He remembers you not according to your iniquity but according to His mercy. Today, we live on the crumbs, but a day is coming when we will feast at the table with all of God’s children, forever and ever. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-30626029134745967652017-03-03T12:24:00.002-05:002017-03-03T12:24:56.731-05:00Ash Wednesday (Matthew 6:16-21)“For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this Ash Wednesday is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the sixth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ, are you giving up something for Lent? We modern Christians don’t fast much. We don’t skip meals in preparation for receiving the Lord’s Supper, we don’t withdraw from the pleasures of the flesh to focus on prayer, self-denial isn’t really a part of our piety. But we do often give something up for Lent; this practice, which both Christians and non- Christians participate in, oddly enough, is the last vestige of fasting left in our world. What will it be for you this year? Chocolate? Caffeine? Facebook? Steak? It’s usually something that won’t put much of a dent in our lifestyle, that we can give up with a little pain, but not too much, something we can mention in passing to our friends. There will be articles again this year, by Christians and non-Christians alike, touting the benefits of this Lenten ‘fast;’ no more Facebook? More time for jogging! No more sweets? You might lose a few pounds! Lent can help you become a healthier, happier you!<br /><br />When teaching us about the Lord’s Supper, Martin Luther instructs us to confess, “Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training.” He is simply echoing Jesus, “And when you fast…” Jesus assumes that His followers will fast, He assumes that this spiritual discipline will be part of their lives, not just in Lent, but in every part of the Church Year. And because His disciples will fast, they need some instructions. “Do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others.” Hypocrites fast so that others can see them; hypocrites fast so that their friends, their neighbors, their fellow church members will be impressed. Hypocrites fast to earn the praises of men, and they will get what they asked for. “Truly I say to you, they have received their reward.”<br /><br />Our reward will be given in full from our fellow men; they will be impressed, but not our Father in heaven. “When you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret.” This seems like strange advice on a day when two pastors and a vicar lined up before the service to disfigure faces. We did not do this to make you all hypocrites, but we applied ashes to the outside of your body to point you to inward repentance; ashes stain your forehead for this one day as a reminder to you of sin’s penalty and sin’s destruction. If you are wearing the ashes tonight because you wanted to show everyone else how pious you are, if you are planning to wear them with pride back to work or to the store or when you go out to eat, go to the bathroom and wash them off. Repent. “Rend your hearts and not your garments,” God thunders forth through Joel. <br /><br />Quit playing around with the outward show, quit simply giving up things that have little real effect on the comfort of this life. What should you give up this Lent? How about your sin? Give up your sin this Lent. Repent. That is the Lenten discipline to which all Christians are called: repentance. Lent isn’t about self-improvement, it’s about death, dying to your sins in repentance. Turn from your sins, refuse their hold on you. Rend your hearts in sorrow over your sins and cry out to God for mercy, for He is merciful. “And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” He will reward you not because you are so good at being repentant, He will reward you because of Jesus. In Joel we are told, “Then the Lord became jealous for His land and had pity on His people.” He had pity on His people, He had pity on you, and sent you Jesus to take that sin and endure its penalty, leaving it nailed to the cross. <br /><br />Lent is for sinners, sinners in desperate need of a Savior. Those who do not think they have the disease see little need for the cure. Maybe you are one of those who steadfastly and publicly refuses to give up anything for Lent. Perhaps you cover it with a veneer of piety, pointing out how ridiculous the whole ‘giving something up for Lent’ fad has become in our culture, and you are right. But it goes much deeper than that. Luther said, “Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training,” which you interpret as ‘Fasting and bodily preparation are probably detrimental to your faith and are to be avoided at all costs.’ Jesus said, “When you fast…” which you interpret as ‘If you fast, and you probably won’t, fast this way…’ Why should you fast, why should you give up any of the pleasures that this life can offer, any of the things that you have earned? I’m a Christian, I go to Church, that should be plenty. The things I have, they are mine, to use as I please. Who has the right to tell me to give any of them up, even for a little while?<br /><br />Jesus has that right as your Savior and Lord, and He calls on you to loose yourself from the bondage of your things. “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal.” If you refused the ashes tonight because you wanted to show everyone how pious you are, if you did not come forward because you didn’t want to sully your head with a reminder of death, repent. No one is required to take the ashes, but if you refused them because you want nothing to do with giving up any of the pleasures of the flesh, repent. Give up your sins this Lent. Give up all that has a hold on your heart, that pulls you away from your Lord. Do not pile up your treasure on this earth, give it up, lay it aside, refuse to let anything of this world have its clutches upon you.<br /><br />For you have a greater treasure. “Lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal.” Your treasures, your things, whether they are the praises of men or the pleasures of life or the things that you enjoy, will all fade, they will all be corrupted, they will not last. Not one thing that you own or enjoy will last beyond the grave. But what Christ has given to you lasts, it endures. It will not fade, because it is attached to Jesus, and He lives, never to die again. Nothing, and no one can destroy that treasure, for it belongs to you even now, and you will receive it in full on the Last Day. That is what Lent is all about: taking our eyes off the fading and fragile treasures of this world and fixing our eyes upon the treasure that lasts, the treasure that endures, the treasure held in heaven for us by the One who died and rose again to win it for us.<br /><br /> Are you giving up something for Lent? “Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training,” training for a body consumed by sin. Fasting is discipline, discipline for the flesh, part of killing the Old Adam within you; fasting is always in service of repentance. Fasting from food or any other pleasure is not to help you lose a few pounds or to give you time to read a book, but to provide opportunity and focus for prayer, to lead you to repent of all the sin that entangles you. This Lent, die to yourself, examine your idols and in repentance cry out for God to break them. Lay aside all that holds you in the chains of sin, all that distracts you from receiving Christ’s precious Word. Repent and believe. Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training, but they are worthless without faith. Luther teaches us to confess: “That person is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words, ‘Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.’”<br /><br />Repent, and hear the Gospel. “The Lord became jealous for His land and had pity on His people.” He was jealous for His land, His chosen Zion, and He had pity on you, you who are bowed low with sin, you who are subject to death. He had pity and sent His Son, His only Son, whom He loved, to die in your place to win you treasure in heaven, treasure that no moth or rust will corrupt, and no thief will ever break in and steal. That is what Lent is all about. The ashes on your head, a reminder of death, are in the shape of a cross, a reminder of who actually died that death. Jesus, for you. That is Ash Wednesday. That is Lent. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-48488491156943897622017-02-24T12:17:00.002-05:002017-02-24T12:17:27.559-05:00St. Matthias (Acts 1:15-26)<div class="MsoNormal">
“And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this commemoration of Saint Matthias comes from the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the first chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. Dear friends in Christ: as we at Good Shepherd have had the opportunity to commemorate the saints of old during our Wednesday night services, you have certainly heard this phrase before: ‘We don’t know much about so and so…” For every Peter, James, and John, we have a Simon the Zealot, for every Matthew or Thomas we have a James the son of Alpheus. And for every Paul, we have a Matthias. Saint Paul is the addition to the apostles, one untimely born, and the book of Acts is as filled with his deeds as the New Testament is filled with his writings. Saint Matthias filled the number of the disciples, giving the New Testament Church the number of the Old Testament Church—twelve—and then is never mentioned again. All we have is a name—one name, mind you, not three, like the other guy, “Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus.” Some of the disciples were probably thinking, ‘A guy with three names? We know that Jesus liked to give us nicknames, but that’s a little much. Let’s just keep it simple.’ And God gave them Matthias. Just Matthias.<br /><br />Even in our text today, we learn more about Judas than we do about Matthias. In fact, that’s who Peter and the apostles spend most of their time talking about. “Brothers, the Scripture had to be fulfilled, which the Holy Spirit spoke beforehand by the mouth of David concerning Judas, who became a guide to those who arrested Jesus. For he was numbered among us and was allotted his share in this ministry.” Judas was placed into the very same office that Peter held, the same office that John and Matthew occupied, the same office for which James the son of Zebedee lost his head. Judas was a disciple, he was an apostle. Jesus wasn’t tricking Judas when He called him, He wasn’t secretly calling Judas to the office of ‘betrayer’ when He summoned him to leave his other vocations to follow the incarnate Son of God. Judas held the unique office of the Twelve, he had his share in their ministry; in Matthew chapter ten, he too was given authority over unclean spirits and the power to heal disease, then he was sent out with the others to the villages ahead of Jesus, to prepare the way for Him. Judas presumably even performed a miracle or two in Jesus’ name; he was an apostle, and even as Satan was working on his heart, he fulfilled the tasks of his office in the stead and by the command of Jesus.<br /><br />But he vacated his office; he turned aside from the office to which Jesus had called him and went, as the Eleven said, “to his own place.” Jesus had called Judas to follow him, Jesus had taught Judas for three years, Jesus had given him authority over demons and disease, and Jesus sent Judas out on vicarage, preparation for the time when Judas was to go forth into all the world with the message of his Lord’s death and resurrection. But Judas turned aside. Instead of bringing the Gospel to the world, he spoke of Jesus to those who wished to kill him, instead of driving out Satan, he invited him in; he did lead others to Jesus, but only so that they could arrest Him and put Him to death. And when he had done his wicked deed, Judas went “to his own place,” he could find no grace, no forgiveness in the temple, and so he dealt with his sin himself, at the end of a rope.<br /><br />Now his office must be filled. “For it is written in the book of Psalms, ‘May his camp become desolate, and let there be no one to dwell in it;’ and ‘Let another take his office.’” It’s surprising, when you think about it, that the office that Judas held was not dissolved by his shameful betrayal of that office and His Lord. We wouldn’t have been surprised if the apostles had left his place open, if they had become the Eleven from now on, if they would’ve decided that Judas had so corrupted and poisoned his office that no one could now take it. We place much more of a focus on the man, whether wicked or boring on the one hand, or charismatic and friendly on the other. But that is not the way the office that Christ has established works. Whether it is occupied by Saint John or wicked Judas, the office of apostle and pastor does not depend upon the man. It doesn’t even depend upon his faith. The betrayer of Jesus held this office because Jesus put him there, and Judas cannot corrupt the office, no matter what he does, just as no occupant can make it efficacious. It is Christ’s office, His gift, created by His mandate and institution, and as He lives, never to die again, so His office will endure until He comes again.<br /><br />And the Church has the mandate from Christ to fill this office. It’s surprising that Jesus didn’t fill the office of Judas before His ascension into heaven. Instead, He leaves it to the Church, assembled together. Before, Christ Himself directly called men into the office; from this point forward, the Church will be His instrument, and we will follow the pattern set forth by the apostles in Acts chapter one. The first act of the apostles is a call meeting! Peter begins by declaring the qualifications: “So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when He was taken up from us—one of these men must become with us a witness to His resurrection.” The entire Church hears the qualifications set forth from Scripture, and then using her God-given wisdom puts forth qualified men. “And they put forward two, Joseph called Barsabbas, who was also called Justus, and Matthias.” With the choices before them, the Church prays. “You, Lord, who know the hearts of all, show which one of these two you have chosen to take the place in this ministry and apostleship.” After prayer, the choice is made. “And they cast lots for them, and the lot fell on Matthias, and he was numbered with the eleven apostles.”<br /><br />Through the Church, Christ fills His office, as He will for century after century, even until this very day. We still follow this pattern, and we should, with a few differences. Matthias was called to the unique, once-in-history office of apostle, as one of the Twelve. Therefore, the qualifications were a bit different: pastors today are not required to have witnessed the resurrected Lord. And the means of choosing is different: the Church never cast lots again; instead with prayer the Church used its God-given wisdom to choose between qualified candidates. But what is most important remains the same. Matthias, like every pastor since, is called by Jesus through His instrument, His bride, the Church. Matthias is, like Judas, given his share in the ministry of the apostles.<br /><br />It is not the man, but the office. Who is Matthias? All we have is a name, and that’s just fine, because through Matthias and his companions, his fellow office-holders, we know all about Jesus. It doesn’t ultimately matter whether you have Judas or Matthias, Peter or Matthew, James or John, even Preus or Poppe, Meyer or Maronde, as long as the office is being fulfilled. What matters is whether the Word is rightly taught, and the sacraments rightly administered. Flee false teaching, but do not think that the power of the Word, or the efficacy of the sacraments, depends upon men. Faithful pastors are interchangeable, and the Word they preach, the sacraments they administer, do not depend upon them—thanks be to God! They depend upon Jesus, who gives these gifts to His Church. They depend upon the One who was handed over by the betrayal of Judas, the One who suffered and died at the hands of sinful men, the same One who rose again from the dead victorious over all of your enemies. The forgiveness proclaimed from this pulpit, the forgiveness splashed upon you at this font, the forgiveness placed into your mouth at this altar depends not upon the man who gives it. Pastors simply distribute the good gifts of God. The goodness of the gift doesn’t come from the pastor but from Christ, the giver of every good gift. They are His gifts, and it is His office; His office to fill, and His office to work through, to the ends of the earth. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.</div>
Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-17956294660486640812017-02-15T10:24:00.001-05:002017-02-15T10:24:45.986-05:00Septuagesima (Matthew 20:1-16)“So the last will be first, and the first last.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the twentieth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ, you are a Christian, you have faith, because you have been called by Jesus. He came to you in the marketplace of this world, and He hired you to labor in His vineyard. He called you through the preaching of His Word, He hired you in the precious waters of Holy Baptism, He made you a laborer in His vineyard, and then put you to work. Some of you were called at the very beginning, promised your denarius when you were only an infant. Some of you were called at the third hour, when you were a child, as a grandparent or friend brought you to God’s house and His Word. Some of you were called at the sixth or the ninth hour, as young adults or in middle age, perhaps through the prodding of a spouse or child. And some of you were hired at the eleventh hour, toward the end of your time on this earth, having spent a lifetime idle in the marketplace; perhaps you were one of those called to work in the first hour of your life, but then left the vineyard for years, even decades, before you were hired again, with the gentle rebuke of our Lord, “Why do you stand here idle all day?” You joined those hired at the first, third, sixth, or ninth hours, fully aware of how you squandered your life chasing after the things of this world.<br /><br />All of you are called to work, to labor in the vineyard, producing the fruit of love toward God and love toward your neighbor. Your work is not easy, for life as a Christian is not easy, you bear the burden of the day and its heat: the burden of dying to yourself in repentance every single day, the heat of persecution. You face the hatred of the world, you face the resistance of your own sinful nature, that Old Adam who needs to be drowned day after day. With great struggles, you seek to keep yourself from the fleeting pleasures that this world offers, and when you fall, you go to your knees in repentance. Your labor has been hard, and for some of you, it has been long. So long, and so hard, in fact, that you who were hired first, even those hired at the third or sixth hours, have begun to forget just how things work in the kingdom of God. <br /><br />You have begun to forget that the Master hired you, that He promised you a denarius when the day was over, that He made you a laborer and promised you the wage before you had worked for one second in the vineyard. You take your eyes off the Master, and begin to look at yourself, you begin to examine your fellow workers. You have worked so long and so hard that you have begun to think that the Master owes you for your work. No longer are your eyes fixed on the Master, trusting His promise, the denarius that is coming, but they are fixed on yourself, as you evaluate what you deserve to receive from Jesus, and on your fellow workers, as you evaluate whether they deserve the same wage. You are no longer thinking of the denarius as grace, but as justice, Jesus giving you what He owes you, His repayment for all your work.<br /><br />You who have been hired later perhaps have a different perspective. You too have let your eyes stray from your Master, you also are looking at yourself, and at your fellow laborers. You are all too aware of the life you led before, the time you wasted idle in the marketplace, chasing after the pleasures of the flesh, perhaps knowing the kind of labor that went on in the vineyard and wanting nothing to do with it. You are painfully aware of how you have stumbled and fallen since He hired you, seemingly every day. You look at your fellow laborers, your fellow Christians, and to you they all seem to be much more deserving of a denarius than you. If you could read their minds, if you knew that those who have labored all day feel entitled to their denarius, you would probably agree. You don’t feel entitled at all, you feel completely undeserving, and you have a sneaking suspicion that when the day’s end comes, the Master won’t have anything for you at all. You’ve come too late, you were idle too long; the Master will have nothing left to give.<br /><br />So there is fear and there is confidence among the workers as the Master makes ready to pay the wages. “And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’” The last will be first, and the first last. As the decisive moment comes, eyes are finally all fixed on the Master. “And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius.” A denarius! You cannot believe what you hold in your hand—a denarius! The denarius of heaven, the denarius of eternal life, given to you called so late, you who were idle so long, you who have such sin in your past, you who have stumbled so often. A denarius for you, and you go your way rejoicing.<br /><br />There is certainly some rejoicing among you who stand farther back in line, a smattering of applause. Your Master certainly is generous, as you who have served Him the longest know best. And now your expectations are through the roof. Yes, you’re glad that the Master has something left over for those who were idle for so long, but you are the ones who have put in all the work. “Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius.” A denarius? You cannot believe what you hold in your hand—a denarius? The same denarius given to those who were idle, those who despised the Master’s call for so long, those who have so much sinful baggage that they might as well drive around in a U-Haul? A denarius? “And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house.”<br /><br />Your cause is just, your argument is sound. Every other worker on this planet would agree with you. “These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” What was the point of laboring so hard, what was the benefit of working so long? You have made him, you have made her, equal to me? Don’t you know what they’ve done, don’t you know what they’ve done to me? Mission work around the world is just fine, and we feel very good about sending our dollars overseas, but when it comes to extending the call of the Gospel to those we know, or think we know, we are less enthusiastic. We know what they’re like, and we know they don’t deserve any grace, at least not as much grace as we deserve. Does the town drunk deserve a denarius? How about a drug addict? A sex offender? A murderer or a thief? But we don’t even have to be so extreme. What about the ones who have lived much of their lives not caring what God says? What about those you see on the street that you would rather not see in your church? What about those who have sinned against you, perhaps quite terribly? Do they deserve a denarius? That is really the question: do those hired at the eleventh hour, those who hear the call of the Gospel after having lived a life of sin, or having sinned against me, or having stood idle in the marketplace, deserve the denarius at the end of the day?<br /><br />Not in comparison with me. You know how I’ve worked, Lord, you know how I’ve toiled, you know the sacrifices I’ve made, the pleasures I’ve foregone to labor in your vineyard. I’ve been an elder, I’ve been on altar guild, I’ve been here every week, I’ve volunteered at every event. I’ve…yes, there’s the problem. We’ve taken our eyes off of the Master, and we’ve been looking at ourselves, we’ve been looking at our fellow laborers. If we had fixed our eyes on our Master, it wouldn’t have mattered what anyone else received. The Master chides us, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you and go. I chose to give to this last worker as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?” It was evil in our eyes that our Master was good, so good in fact that He gave to every laborer the same wage; He treated every repentant sinner the same. Do you feel entitled to a denarius? Do you look down upon your fellow laborers, do your eyes stray from the Master to them? Repent. Repent and rejoice that the Master has grace for every sinner, hired at every hour, even you.<br /><br />That is what grace is; a gift, not earned in any way. The laborers do not work to earn their denarius, they are given a denarius because they have been called, they were hired, it was promised to them the moment they were called to the vineyard. Not the way you would run a business, but the kingdom of heaven rarely gives a good pattern for making money. Jesus isn’t in the business of justice, He is all about grace. Justice would mean no calling, no hiring, and no wages—for anyone. Jesus doesn’t owe you, or anyone, anything. But in grace He loves you and welcomes you into His kingdom, His vineyard, by having justice done upon Him. Those hired first complain, “You have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” Jesus could’ve replied, “No, I have made you and them equal to me, who actually has borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.” We are sorely mistaken if we think it was our labor that earned the denarius; it was the labor of Jesus, His bloody, tortuous, deadly labor on our behalf that earned the denarius for each one of us. Justice for us was death and hell, but Jesus suffered both in our place. Justice was exacted from Him, grace is given to us.<br /><br />Grace by its very nature, by its very definition, is a gift undeserved, unearned. The Lord rewards those who don’t deserve it, and every laborer in His vineyard doesn’t deserve it. Yet, He still gives, He gives abundantly, He gives in overflowing measure, He gives to you. The last will be first and the first last, and we rejoice, for we were all last, and we all, together as members of the body of Christ, in every age, in every generation, called at any hour of the day, will be first. We will all receive what Christ has promised us: the denarius of forgiveness, life, and salvation. Our Master is good, He is gracious, He gives us what we do not deserve—thanks be to God! In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-20691980764613173252017-02-02T09:39:00.003-05:002017-02-02T09:39:33.573-05:00Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany/Sanctity of Life Sunday (Romans 13:8-10)“The commandments, ‘You shall not commit adultery, You shall not murder, You shall not steal, You shall not covet,’ and any other commandment, are summed up in this word: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this Sanctity of Life Sunday is the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the thirteenth chapter of Paul’s letter to the Church of God in Rome. Dear friends in Christ, the Law is fulfilled by love, the love of Jesus for you. In love, Jesus came to keep every Law, every command, every statute perfectly, then He died the death deserved by those who didn’t. In love, Jesus fulfilled every one of the Law’s demands, and endured every one of the Law’s punishments. Christ shows love to His friends, His companions, those who love Him and follow Him, the members of the body of Christ. Christ shows love to the other, the ones who are different, shunned by the world; His compassion is especially poured out on the poor and downtrodden. Christ shows love to His neighbors, whoever they are, in the Church or still outside, all those in need. That is how He defines the term ‘neighbor’ for us in the parable of the Good Samaritan: the neighbor is the one in need. The disciples and Peter, the thief on the cross, a world trapped in the bondage of sin, you and me: we were all in need, and Christ showed love to us, He helped us, He saved us; His life was laid down in love to fulfill the Law for us.<br /><br />We were bleeding and dying in the ditch, cast there by our own sin and rebellion, and Jesus did not pass us by. He laid down His life for His friends, but more than just His friends, His enemies as well, indeed every person who ever has lived or ever will live. “Love does no wrong to a neighbor, therefore love is the fulfilling of the Law.” He did no wrong, but He loved, He forgave, He saved. His love fulfilled the Law, perfectly and completely, and now the Law has no more penalty to execute upon us, it has no more threats to make against us. The Christian is now set free to love one another as God has commanded us. The Law is fulfilled in love born of faith; the Law is fulfilled when believers, when Christians, love others. We love because Christ first loved us. Our love flows from His love, our love mirrors His love. We love as we have been loved, seeking to do no wrong to the neighbor, but freely giving of ourselves for the good of others. We love by laying down our own desires, by placing others in front of ourselves, by not seeking our own needs but the needs of others.<br /><br />We love because every command God has given is fulfilled by love. We love because it is our obligation as Christians; yes, Lutherans, you heard me right, or, rather, you heard Paul right. He says, “Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the Law.” The Lutheran Confessions say that Scripture uses such expressions “to indicate what we are bound to do because of God’s ordinance, commandment, and will.” Not to earn righteousness, not to become a Christian, but because we are Christians. Love for the neighbor is the Christian life, toward all people. <br /><br />We first love our fellow Christians; indeed, Christ has placed us into congregations because our fellow Christians need our love. Love begins within the body of Christ. But our love doesn’t end inside these walls, simply with those who are in our church directory, or even with the wider body of Christ in this city or around the world. Paul says, “The one who loves another has fulfilled the Law.” We owe love to the other, to the one who is different, the poor and the downtrodden, the ones who cannot speak for themselves. We love those who are threatened, who are oppressed, who are subject to abuse and exploitation, the unlovable, the ones we would not love on our own. We love the children in the womb, helpless, without a voice, threatened by a culture of death that sees them as expendable, as less than human, as an inconvenience and a ‘choice.’ We love the girls being trafficked, without a home, trapped in a terrible situation, exploited by those who hold abusive power over them. We love the elderly and dying, often without a voice, viewed as a burden to those who should love them. We love the disabled and the infirm, who are different than us, often profoundly different, who are ignored, or exposed to ridicule and abuse. We love each and every person regardless of age, development, or any other factor that makes them different than us, because they are made in the image of God, because they are loved by God, because Christ died for them as He died for us.<br /><br />If we learn anything from the book of Jonah, it is that we do not get to pick and choose who to show love to. Christians love all people, those in the body of Christ first of all, then all those in the world around us. We love those who have made mistakes, who are desperately searching for a word of hope. In a 2015 study, 65% of women facing a crisis pregnancy thought that church members were more likely to gossip about their situation than offer help. These women expected the church only to condemn, they expected members to simply talk behind their back, they expected no understanding. They expected the church to reject them because they are sinful, because they have committed that sin. And because they expect no help, no love, they so often listen to what the world offers, and what the world offers is death. The Sixth Commandment unconfessed, unforgiven, then leads to the Fifth Commandment unconfessed, unforgiven. The same women who feared to tell the church when they faced a crisis pregnancy now fear to tell the church about their abortion. 52% of Christian women who have had an abortion attend worship once a month or more, and more than half of them say that no one at their church knows about their abortion. “You shall love your neighbor as yourself,” Paul tells us. We love sinners; we love them enough to preach the Law which drives to repentance, and we love them enough to bring them Jesus, who forgives their sins.<br /><br />But we do not stop with words, as Saint James exhorts us: “If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?” We love them in tangible ways, we love them so that the voices of death are left with nothing to say. We shower these women with love, not to ignore or excuse sin, but to forgive it, and then to help broken sinners deal with the consequences of sin. We do this with every other sin, every other sinner; that is what why the Church exists, and it is no different for sins of the Sixth and Fifth Commandments. In that same 2015 study, 54% of women who have had an abortion said that they would not recommend that anyone discuss their crisis pregnancy with a local congregation. Certainly many avoid the church because they are not repentant in the least and don’t want to hear the Law, but for many more, they stay away because they expect no love from Christians. Dear friends, the Christian church, this congregation, should be the first place that women can go when they have fallen into sin, when they face a crisis pregnancy, or after they have had an abortion. We have what they need: first and foremost, the free and abundant grace of God in the forgiveness of sins, and then a community of believers who will love and support them and their child. We love our neighbor, and as Jesus teaches us, the neighbor is the one who is in need. The unborn child is in need of our protection, his mother is in need of our love.<br /><br />We love them because Christ loves them, because Christ loves us. Every command is summed up by love, it is only fulfilled by love; keeping a commandment out of fear of punishment or to earn brownie points before God is actually sinful. Only good works done in faith are good; the commandments are only kept by love born of faith. We do not love others for our own good; that is spiritual abuse, using my neighbor as a means for me to earn something before God or men. We do not love the unlovable so that others will be impressed, so that we will exalted in the eyes of others. We do not love our neighbor so that we can get into heaven or have a better place in heaven. We love them because Christ loves them, because Christ loves us.<br /><br />The new man delights to love one another in the body of Christ, the new man delights to love the other who is different, indeed the new man delights to love any neighbor who is in need. But you do not only have the new man dwelling within you. The old man has love for no one but yourself. There are times when you have lived according to the flesh, when you have failed to love your neighbor, the unborn children of America, a child in your womb, or any other person. There are times when you have failed to show love to desperate sinners, but have callously let the woman in crisis remain in crisis, you have looked down upon one hungering for a word of grace. Repent, and hear the Gospel. If you have committed a sin, any sin, but especially the sins of the Sixth and Fifth Commandments, come to the waters of life, come to the forgiveness pouring from the riven side of Jesus, come to this place. Do not come clinging to your sin, seeking affirmation, but come in repentance, despairing of your sin. Come and hear the words which heal, the words which bring you the very love of Christ Himself: “In the stead and by the command of my Lord Jesus Christ I forgive you all your sins in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.” Come and hear these words as often as they are proclaimed; call on your pastor to proclaim them to you one on one; the sin of abortion, as devastating as it is, is not unforgivable, and neither is any other sin. Christ’s love has fulfilled the Law for you; Christ in love has taken your judgment upon Himself, Christ loves you, and His love is eternal. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-22477054598366210242017-01-17T10:23:00.003-05:002017-01-17T10:23:37.371-05:00Second Sunday after the Epiphany/Mission Festival (Romans 12:6-16)“Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the twelfth chapter of Paul’s letter to the church of God in Rome. Dear friends in Christ: Jesus is the One with the gift of prophecy, as He proclaimed to us the will of God, especially God’s salvation through His Son. Jesus is the One with the gift of service, as He came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many. Jesus is the One with the gift of teaching, as He taught all who would listen about the nature of the kingdom of God that was breaking into this sinful world like light in a dark place. Jesus is the One with the gift of exhortation, as He encourages us to repent, to turn away from our sins, and believe in the redemption that He has brought. Jesus is the One with the gift of contribution, as He gave all that He had, laying aside His glory to take humble flesh and then laying aside His life to die in your place. Jesus is the One with the gift of ruling, as He is the head of His body, the Church, and He leads and guides her to green pastures and streams of living water, where He will wipe away tears from all faces. Jesus is the One with the gift of showing mercy, divine mercy, overflowing mercy, not giving us what we deserve, but taking that judgment, that punishment upon Himself.<br /><br />Jesus is the One who possesses every spiritual gift; they are His, and they are His perfectly, in full and complete measure. And He who possesses every spiritual gift then delights to give them away, to you and to me. Spiritual gifts are just that—gifts!—they belong to Jesus, but He entrusts them to our care, we are stewards of them, not owners. He gives them to each person individually, for us to use for the good of others, as Saint Paul says, “Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness.” Spiritual gifts are given on an individual basis, to each person as Jesus, the possessor of every spiritual gift, sees fit. Different gifts are given to different people, and the same gift is not given in the same way to any two Christians. Jesus gives them in exactly the way that they are needed, not for our own good, but for the good of the body of Christ and the good of a world trapped in the darkness of sin.<br /><br />Spiritual gifts are not given for the purposes of pride, to puff out chests and inflate egos, to lead us to look down upon those who we don’t think are quite as gifted as we are. Paul warns against such arrogance later in our text. “Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight.” I’m just old enough to remember the fervor, really the nonsense, that once accompanied the subject of spiritual gifts. It was once quite trendy, and a quick Google search will tell you that in many places it still is today, for churches to give out ‘spiritual gift inventories’ to help you to identify your gifts, and then give you opportunities to exercise them in various roles within the congregation. This was a Christian version of a personality or career test: find your gift, and we’ll slot you in the right job. <br /><br />Spiritual gifts then become a mystery, something that I can’t find out until I take this test; often the language of ‘discovery’ is used, as if Jesus makes us search around for how He has blessed us. Spiritual gifts, instead of being received as a gift, are then a source of pride, as we identify for ourselves (using someone’s test) what gifts we have and then call on others to recognize them. Spiritual gifts are then simply a synonym for personality strengths, that I must be allowed to exercise in the way I think they should be used. Most devastating, spiritual gifts are then set up against and above the vocations that God has called us to, they are used as excuses to leave vocations God has given or to seek vocations that He has not. Scripture forbids a woman to serve as a pastor, but many sought that office after a spiritual gift inventory claimed to identify the gift of preaching.<br /><br />Such a perspective on spiritual gifts is completely contrary to how Paul would have us use the gifts Jesus has given. Spiritual gifts are not given for the self, they are not given for our own good. They are not given to benefit our own life, to exalt ourselves in the eyes of others, or as leverage for church offices. Spiritual gifts don’t belong to us, they are not our possession; Jesus possesses them all, and He gives them how and where He wills, all for the good of the body, His Body, the Church, and for the extension of the kingdom of God throughout the world. The question then is not, ‘what spiritual gift do I have?’ but instead, ‘where has God placed me and what has He called on me to do in that vocation?’ The spiritual gifts that Paul lists here are all general and generic, and that’s the point: the focus isn’t on the gift, the focus is on using whatever God has given you, in whatever vocation He has placed you, in genuine love for your neighbor, as Saint Paul teaches: “Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.”<br /><br />Jesus gives spiritual gifts to individuals for the good of the body of Christ, in each and every place, to show love to our brothers and sisters in our congregation and around the world. He gives gifts to you and to me, spiritual gifts, and also material gifts, to supply what others lack, what is needed in the body of Christ. He uses us in our vocation, He uses us according to the gifts He has given to us, as we, hearing the exhortation of Paul, “Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality.” What we have, what gifts have been given to us, we use to supply what is lacking among others, trusting that God will use others to then supply what we lack. This happens in a congregation, as the body of Christ comes together to educate our young, maintain a building, and spread the Gospel, not only the direct preaching of the Word from this pulpit, but those who support this proclamation in numerous ways, and who take it into their vocations during the week. The Christian congregation is an assembly of saints with different gifts, each using them for the good of the body, each one supplying what the other lacks; each member is vital, each is blessed individually for the good of the whole. We see this on a much larger scale when we look at a church body or at the body of Christ spread throughout the world; individuals, congregations, and church bodies in love supply what others lack, using all gifts for the good of the body and the extension of the kingdom of God.<br /><br />Lutheran Theological Seminary in Pretoria, South Africa has students, men who wish to become pastors and spread the Gospel in their native land, who hunger and thirst for Lutheran theology, but what don’t they have? They don’t have enough teachers, they don’t have enough materials, and they don’t have enough money. What do we have? We have men who can teach, we have the books, and we have been blessed to live in a prosperous land; we can supply what they need. That is what mission work is all about: we supply what others lack, but we are not left unchanged, as they supply what we lack, exhorting us to be faithful to God’s Word and the Lutheran Confessions, and refreshing us with their zeal to know and learn more about the truths of the faith.<br /><br />This exchange of love in the body of Christ is a source of joy, because we are not looking to our own pride, but to the good of others. Saint Paul encourages us, “Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight.” The Church is a body, and we do not exalt ourselves over other members of that body, we do not look down on them in pride for any deficiency they may have, but with joy we fervently seek their good, for we all are loved by a God who seeks our good—it is His love, first shown to us, that we then show to others.<br /><br />Jesus is the One whose love is genuine, never false, never fake, never a show, but always sincere, always honest, always true. Jesus is the One who abhorred what is evil, refusing to give in to Satan’s temptations, refusing to abandon the road of the cross, and instead chose the good: what was good for us, His death, in our place, on a Friday we still call ‘Good.’ Jesus is the One who loves us with brotherly affection, for we have been made His brothers and sisters, brought into His family, by our baptism into His Name. Jesus is the One who shows honor to all, especially the lowly, especially the downtrodden, especially those whom the world has forgotten. Jesus is the One whose zeal is never slothful, but is fervent in His service of you and me with His gifts, pouring out His love and forgiveness in manifest ways. Jesus is the One who rejoiced in the hope of His Father’s vindication, was patient in the tribulations inflicted upon Him for your sake, who constantly cried out to His Father in prayer, and was heard. Jesus is the One who contributes all He has for the needs of the saints, and He shows hospitality to us, calling on us to take shelter under His wings. Jesus is the One who blessed those who persecuted Him, asking God to forgive them as they nailed Him to the tree. Jesus is the One who rejoices with you who rejoice, as you celebrate that gifts and blessings that flow into your life, provision from a generous God, and Jesus is the One who weeps with you who weep, as you face the struggles and challenges of living in a still-fallen world. Jesus is the One who is never haughty, who is not embarrassed to associate with sinners; in fact, He never associates with anyone else. He associates with sinners in order to forgive them. He associates with you, He forgives you, because He loves you; He has every gift in full measure, He has fulfilled every exhortation on your behalf. His love is genuine, and it will never fail, it is His greatest gift. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4401620155025205257.post-72441659622863885502017-01-05T09:35:00.001-05:002017-01-05T09:35:18.983-05:00The Epiphany of our Lord (Matthew 2:1-12)“And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon on this celebration of the Epiphany of our Lord is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the second chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ, in the days of Herod the king, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, strange visitors came to Jerusalem, asking an even stranger question: “Where is he who has been born king of the Jews?” They come seeking a child, already declared king—why? “For we saw His star when it rose.” The word ‘epiphany’ is Greek, and it simply means ‘revelation’ or ‘manifestation.’ The star epiphanied to these strange visitors, called magi by Matthew—magicians, sorcerers, or, as we have sanitized it today, ‘wise men’—the star epiphanied to them that a special child was born, so special, so unique, that these magi declare that they “have come to worship Him.” This is no ordinary king, but One worthy of worship, One to whom they will bow; this king was epiphanied to them, and they are compelled to make this journey, they are compelled to worship Him, and they have come to Jerusalem to find Him.<br /><br />Where else would they go? If these men have any of the wisdom we humans are so proud of they know that the One born King of the Jews must reside where all the other kings of the Jews lived: Jerusalem, the holy city, the seat of Israel’s kings. If a king worthy of worship has been born to the Jews, He must reside in a magnificent palace. The star epiphanied to them that a child was born king of the Jews; it did not give them the address. Where else would you go to find the king of the Jews? But there is no epiphany in Jerusalem, only the darkness of unbelief. “When Herod the king heard this, he was troubled, and all Jerusalem with him.” Herod’s heart is darkened by jealousy and rage; the child is not in his palace, nor in the temple, no great birth has been reported. So the magi know a child is born, but they have no power to find Him; their wisdom fails them, indeed, it’s a hindrance—they’ve come to the wrong place. In fact, their wisdom has placed the King they have come to worship in jeopardy, as a jealous Herod is now alerted to the presence of a rival. The magi are failures, their ‘wisdom’ is a sham, their journey a fiasco, all their powers of reason and understanding are completely and utterly worthless. <br /><br />The wisdom of this world, the wisdom peddled by these magicians and sorcerers, these ‘wise men,’ cannot apprehend the child born King of the Jews. Such wisdom only hides Him. This world is not going to find the child born King of the Jews simply by observing creation and using the power of human reason. People are not going to become Christians by watching a beautiful sunset or climbing a mountain. You won’t find Christ in a fishing boat or in the casino. People won’t even be converted simply by seeing Christians live upright lives among them. At best, they will come to Jerusalem, to the seat of power and glory, looking for a God who is big and powerful, a generic God who either likes me because I’m likeable and wants to give me everything I ask for, or hates me because I’m hatable and wants to crush me. The best that human reason can do, thinking as deeply as it can, examining this creation as closely as it can, is that there is a God, and this God has two characteristics: He’s big, and He’s mad. And that’s the best human reason can do; the worst is complete and total unbelief, the hatred against the child exemplified by Herod. There is no epiphany by human reason; nothing is epiphanied that gives any hope, certainly not the child born King of the Jews.<br /><br />Epiphany only comes through the means God has appointed. The magi are in the wrong city, they have no idea where the child is, their human wisdom and learning is not worth one pinch of owl dung. But Herod—sinful, jealous, unbelieving Herod—he actually knows where to go. He goes to the Church. “And assembling all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Christ was to be born.” God’s Old Testament Church, now corrupted and led by status-seeking men concerned only with the outward show of the Law, still serves the purpose that it has had since the very beginning. From the first message of the Gospel given to the first preacher, Adam, through many centuries and countless prophets and priests, the Church has been given the solemn responsibility to point people to the child born King of the Jews, the seed of the woman who will crush the serpent’s head, the star coming out of Jacob, the righteous Branch, God’s Servant Immanuel. There is epiphany within the Church, an epiphany that human reason cannot attain, an epiphany that the Church has a command from God Himself to show to the world, a command that still stands, by the way, reemphasized by Christ Himself. And so the chief priests and scribes, despite themselves, fulfill their God-given task, pointing the magi to the child born King of the Jews.<br /><br />“They told him, ‘In Bethlehem of Judea, for so it is written by the prophet: “And you, O Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for from you shall come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel.”’” The Church points the magi to Bethlehem, to the child born King of the Jews, by preaching the Word. The Church doesn’t start a soup kitchen, it doesn’t send out people to dig wells or clean up a park, as God-pleasing as such things may be; it preaches the Word. The Church must speak, Christians must speak. You cannot expect your neighbor to believe simply by watching you drive to church every Sunday, you cannot think you have spread the Gospel when you double your waitress’ tip. It is the Word alone that epiphanies the Christ child. The Christian must finally speak; we cannot expect the world to believe by osmosis, as if a church building in a neighborhood automatically makes Christians, as if a Bible sitting on our shelf can convert our relatives. Jesus does not want to be known in any other way than through His Word; He cannot be apprehended in any other way—the Church, Christians, must speak. Even Herod pointed the magi to Bethlehem; the Church, on the other hand, speaks not out of jealousy and murderous schemes, but out of love, love for Christ who has called us to speak and love for neighbors lost in the darkness of sin, death, and hell, who desperately need us to speak. Human wisdom will fail every time, the beauty of nature will always fall short, good works by themselves never converted anyone; the Word epiphanies Jesus, and His Word never returns void.<br /><br />The magi heard this Word, spoken by the Church, and through the work of the Holy Spirit, a miracle indeed, they believed. “After listening to the king, the went on their way. And behold, the star that they had seen when it rose went before them until it came to rest over the place where the child was.” Note well, dear friends: the star guides them to the house only after they have heard the Word and believed. It is the Word that points them to Jesus, and then God sends the star to get them to the proper address. Only in the Word is Jesus revealed to be who He is, against all appearances: the ruler of the nations, the Lord of creation, the shepherd of His people Israel. Apart from the Word, God is an angry judge; He is big, and He is mad. But the Word epiphanies Him as the God of love, a God who would send His Son to save not only the Jews, but all the Gentiles, starting with the magi, converted from trust in wisdom to trust in the Word. The Word epiphanies Jesus as the Good Shepherd, the Shepherd who lays down His life for you and for me. The Word epiphanies Jesus as the King of the Jews, the title that will be placed above His head as He sheds His blood for the magi, for you and for me, for all the world. The Word epiphanies Jesus, the baby lying in a manger, the child living humbly in Bethlehem, the man presented to the angry crowd by Pilate, the man hung upon the cross, as your Savior, your Lord, your King. He is epiphanied in the Word, He is epiphanied in the Church, He is epiphanied to and for you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.Pastor Christopher Marondehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02608314163368169888noreply@blogger.com0