Monday, August 26, 2013

Proper 16 of Series C (Isaiah 66:18-23)

“For as the new heavens and the new earth that I make shall remain before me, says the Lord, so shall your offspring and your name remain. From new moon to new moon, and from Sabbath to Sabbath, all flesh shall come to worship before me, declares the Lord.” 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 comes from the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the final chapter of the book of Isaiah. Dear friends in Christ, last weekend, when we visited my in-laws, Bethany’s mother received a phone call. It was an automated call informing us that a prisoner had escaped in Clarinda and was now at large and potentially dangerous. He was a fugitive, an escapee, someone on the run from his captors, trying to flee from the consequences of his crimes. In just a few weeks, we will celebrate another anniversary of 9/11. Over three thousand people died that day, but many in those towers were spared; they were the survivors, the remnant, those who had escaped. In fact, I think we all felt a little like survivors that day; grateful to be alive, but yet wondering, ‘Why was I spared?’ Those of you who have survived a brush with death know that the same mixture of emotions always comes when you are a survivor. In a way, the fugitive from prison is the same as the survivor of a terror attack. They have both escaped, they have both avoided something terrible. Suffering or even death was in store for them, but they were somehow spared.

The same Hebrew word describes both fugitives from prison and survivors of calamity, and in our text for today, that word is used to describe us. We are called survivors. “I will set a sign among them. And from them I will send survivors to the nations.” This is a strange word to use for Christians, isn’t it? We are survivors, fugitives, escapees. We have been spared, we have avoided something terrible. What have we survived? God Himself tells us in the opening verse of our text. “For I know their works and their thoughts, and the time is coming to gather all nations and tongues. And they shall come and see my glory.” God declares that He knows our works and He knows our thoughts. I don’t know about you, but for me, that is absolutely terrifying, because my works and my thoughts are not something that I want anyone to see, much less the holy God of the universe. I lust, I covet, I hate, I refuse honor, I despise worship, I make other gods; my works and my thoughts are not something I’m proud of, and I’m usually pretty good at keeping them quiet. But God knows them all. There is nothing you or I can hide from Him. Our sins may be public, they may be private, but God knows them. In fact, He knows your sins better than you do. And He’s angry. In our Epistle lesson we hear of God’s wrath over sin, revealed at Mount Sinai. The command was given as Israel heard God’s holy Law: “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Death is the result when you disobey the God who created you; eternal death under His righteous wrath. There’s nothing you can do; you cannot hide, you cannot cover up your sins. God knows them all. The God of the universe is a God of wrath over sin, who punishes it forever in hell.

He gathers the nations to tell them that they cannot hide; the wages of sin is death, and it’s no use pretending that we have no sin. We are gathered together under His wrath, and His booming voice declares, “They shall come and see my glory.” The glory of God is a consuming fire, the glory of God is His holiness, His righteousness, His justice. The glory of God can only destroy those who are unholy, unrighteous, unjust, you and me who cannot hide our sin from our Creator. But this will be a completely different revelation of His glory. God proclaims through Isaiah: “They shall come and see my glory, and I will set a sign among them.” God’s glory will shine in a sign, set in the sight of the nations. This is the sign of a new covenant, a sign like the rainbow to Noah, circumcision to Abraham, and the Sabbath to Moses. This is a sign of God’s working in this world, a sign of salvation, as He saved Israel by the sign of blood on their doors. His glory shines forth, His justice, His righteousness, His holiness, from a sign in the midst of the nations, the sign of a man dying upon a cross.

The cross is God’s sign of salvation, the ultimate revelation of His glory. God is glorified when His Son dies upon the cross. His glory shines forth when Jesus Christ, true God and true man, suffers and bleeds and dies at the hands of sinful men, for He suffers and bleeds and dies in place of you and me. Jesus cries out from the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is a cry of unspeakable suffering, this is a cry of abandonment, this is the cry of One who is facing the very wrath of God. The wrath of God over sin, your sin and mine, the wrath that we fully deserved, the very wrath of hell itself, was unleashed upon Jesus. We are the survivors; God’s wrath raged with all of its fury, but in God’s great love for you, it was spent on Jesus. The sign was set among us, the sign of the cross, and it shielded us from the punishment our sins deserved.

It doesn’t look like glory, but God’s glory never shined more clearly than in the darkness of Good Friday. God has glory simply for who He is, the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, but He is chiefly glorified for what He has done, for sending His Son to deliver us, to make us survivors of His wrath. He is glorified in saving sinners, He is glorified in showing love to you and me. He demonstrates this three days later by raising Jesus up, victorious over death. His resurrection is the proof that the sign of the cross reconciles you with your God, it demonstrates that a new covenant has been made between Creator and creation, a covenant founded in Christ’s own blood. Christ’s resurrection proves that you have truly survived the wrath of God, it has no claim on you anymore; death itself is defeated. We survived the fury of God’s wrath because He placed the sign of the cross among us on Good Friday. We survived the fury of God’s wrath when we were marked with the sign that shows forth God’s glory in all of its brilliance, baptized into Christ’s death upon the cross.

We stand around that empty tomb, around the baptismal font, around the risen Jesus, a bit dazed. Good Friday and Easter have quite literally changed us. We are no longer children of wrath, we are survivors of wrath. But survivors don’t stay put; they go forth and tell their story, and that is what Jesus sends us to do. “From them I will send survivors to the nations, to Tarshish, Pul, and Lud, who draw the bow, to Tubal and Javan, to the coastlands afar off, that have not heard my fame or seen my glory.” The survivors of God’s wrath, those who have been spared, you and me, are sent forth into the nations. We spread out from the baptismal font into every land, into every vocation, into every nook and cranny of this world, speaking what God would have us say. “They shall declare my glory among the nations.” We, the survivors, declare God’s glory among the nations. The glory of God is shown chiefly in saving sinners, it is demonstrated most importantly in the sign of the cross. In short, the glory of God is Jesus. The sum and substance of our message is therefore Jesus. We reveal Jesus, we make Him known, in fact the Hebrew word used here can also mean “to make conspicuous.” We make Jesus conspicuous in our lives and in our words, so that none of those around us could miss Him. We make no distinctions of persons; all stand under God’s wrath, and so all need to hear of salvation. And we, the survivors, bring the message of our survival to the nations, and then in joy we bring the nations to the Church.

“They shall bring all your brothers from all the nations as an offering to the Lord, on horses and in chariots and in litters and on mules and on dromedaries, to my holy mountain Jerusalem, says the Lord, just as the Israelites bring their grain offering in a clean vessel to the house of the Lord.” Christ works through His Word, creating faith in the hearts of sinners, making others survivors of God’s wrath. And the nations are brought to God; they stream in, using any and all forms of transportation, carried into the house of the Lord. The people whom the Holy Spirit calls to faith through our declaration of God’s glory are then offered to the Lord. They are a clean and pure offering, washed as we were in the waters of Holy Baptism. We offer them up before His throne in joy; the people of God no longer bring sacrifices of animals or grain, but we bring to Him people, our neighbors, those who have heard the Gospel, who are now fellow survivors. They are our brothers and sisters in every way, equally survivors with us, no matter what is their nation, language, or race. There is no distinction in the Kingdom of God; all the baptized are survivors: Jew, Gentile, black, white, Hispanic, rich, poor, young and old. All will be brought to the house of the Lord, and there all will celebrate.

The author to the Hebrews describes this celebration in our Epistle lesson: “You have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.” Jesus speaks not of a mountain, but instead of a feast in our Gospel lesson: “People will come from east and west, and from north and south, and recline at table in the kingdom of God.” This is the feast of the nations, the feast of the survivors, the feast for all the baptized, and it has a place for you and me. This is certain, for God’s sign, Christ’s cross, was set in your midst, and He spared you. God Himself guarantees it in the last verses of our text. “For as the new heavens and the new earth that I make shall remain before me, says the Lord, so shall your offspring and your name remain. From new moon to new moon, and from Sabbath to Sabbath, all flesh shall come to worship before me, declares the Lord.” Your offspring and your name remain, for you are survivors, survivors through the cross of Jesus Christ. In His name, Amen.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Lack of understanding is real understanding

This gem from Luther was cited in the Holy Trinity 2013 issue of Logia: A Journal of Lutheran Theology.  He is commenting on Psalm 32:8, giving to us God's perspective on suffering:

"You ask that I deliver you.  Then do not be uneasy about it; do not teach me, and do not teach yourself; surrender yourself to me.  I am competent to be your Master.  I will lead you in a way that is pleasing to me.  You think it wrong if things do not go as you feel they should.  But your thinking harms you and hinders me.  Things must go, not according to your understanding but above your understanding.  Submerge yourself in a lack of understanding, and I will give you my understanding.  Lack of understanding is real understanding; not knowing where you are going is really knowing where your are going.  My understanding makes you without understanding...  Behold, this is the way of the cross.  You cannot find it, but I must lead you like a blind man.  Therefore not you, not a man, not a creature, but I, through my Spirit and the Word, will teach you the way you must go." (AE 14:152)

This is the theology of the cross at its finest; our human reason understanding and will must be placed in servitude and instead in childlike faith, God calls on us to trust His understanding and His will.  When we cry on Him to save us, we give up on our own ability to save ourselves.  A lack of understanding, but yet faith in the Lord's promises, is real understanding.

Tuesday, August 20, 2013

Proper 15 of Series C (Hebrews 11:17-31, 12:1-3)

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith.” 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 comes from the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the eleventh and twelfth chapters of the book of Hebrews. Dear friends in Christ: the Christian life is a race. Not a race against other people—we are not in competition—but a race toward the finish line. And the object isn’t to get to the finish line before others, but quite simply to make it to the finish line at all. That doesn’t sound so hard—you are only called on to finish the race. But that’s where the trouble comes; there are opponents out there, those who don’t want you to finish, who are willing to do anything to stop you. 

Jesus spoke about these opponents in our Gospel lesson: “Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” Because you belong to Christ, because Christ loves you, because you are running the race of the Christian life, the world will hate you. And it will stop at nothing to keep you from the finish line. Christ’s love means the world’s hatred. You will be beaten down by opposition and persecution, discouraged by suffering and disease, you will be threatened by death. This world wants you to give up the race, to find it too hard, to stop anywhere short of the finish. These opponents harass you, they poke at you, they try to trip you up. But as you run, you quickly find that something else is holding you back. The author to the Hebrews calls it “the sin which clings so closely.” Your own sin is a heavy burden, holding you back, weighing you down. Your sinful nature, like the world, wants you to have nothing to do with the finish line. It distracts you with temptation, it weighs you down with guilt. Running with sin is like running with a parachute, or running with someone else on your back—eventually your legs are going to get too tired and you’re going to give up, you’re going to bow out of the race.

So cast off that burden! Throw off those weights! “Let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” Run the race in repentance! Only repentance and forgiveness, confession and absolution can eliminate the overwhelming burden of sin. Only the gifts that you receive here, from Jesus Christ Himself, can remove that heavy load, freeing your legs to run the race with endurance. Repent! Examine your life, see your sin, confess it to your God, and receive the freeing gift of forgiveness! Through daily repentance in a return to your baptism, through regular confession and absolution, you will learn how to run without a weight on your back, without chains wrapped around your legs. You will be set free by the blood of Christ to run with joy the race that is set before you.

But the attacks will still come. Disease will strike at your ankles, persecution will aim for your gut, fear will hold your back. Your enemies don’t give up when you unload the burden of your sin; if anything, their attacks intensify. How can they be conquered, how can you fight them off? The author to the Hebrews gives one answer: by faith. You heard it, over and over again: by faith Abraham, by faith Jacob, by faith Moses. Faith is how the saints of old ran the race in the midst of adversity; faith is what carried them to the finish line. Christians love to speak about faith; we praise it, we encourage it, we call on others to have it. The trouble is, by itself faith never saved anyone. In fact, many people with faith, who believe in something, will be knocked out of the race, and to be perfectly frank, many with a strong, powerful faith are simply running the wrong race. Fellow runners, faith doesn’t save you; you are saved by who your faith is in. Faith is only as good as its object. And the only object of faith which brings us through our enemies to the finish line is the man who was also God, Jesus Christ.

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.”

In the midst of death, fix your eyes on Jesus. Fix your eyes on the One who raises the dead. By faith, Abraham trusted in the resurrection as he lifted the knife to sacrifice his son. “He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back.” Abraham trusted in the God who raises the dead; He believed in life even in the midst of death, and his son did pass from death to life. By faith, Abraham believed in the God who would one day destroy death forever through the sacrifice of Christ. By faith, Abraham believed in the God who would open Christ’s tomb to reveal it as empty and Jesus as risen. In the midst of death, God provided life. By faith, we trust that Christ’s resurrection is our own, that even though death threatens us and will one day take us, it doesn’t have the victory. Its power over us is fleeting and temporary, it is now simply the gateway to life eternal. By faith, we trust that those we love who have died in the Lord now dwell with Jesus, and we will see them again. On the Last Day they will be raised up to live in the new heavens and the new earth with us and with all the saints. Run the race in faith, faith in the resurrection, with eyes fixed on Jesus, who has conquered death with His death and victorious resurrection.

In the midst of suffering, fix your eyes on Jesus. Fix your eyes on the One who reveals the invisible God. By faith, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph trusted that God held the future. They blessed their sons and spoke of what was to come. “By faith Joseph, at the end of his life, made mention of the exodus of the Israelites and gave directions concerning his bones.” Four hundred years before deliverance came, Joseph trusted the God who keeps His promises. By faith, Moses trusted in the invisible God rather than the visible sufferings. “By faith he left Egypt, not being afraid of the anger of the king, for he endured as seeing him who is invisible.” He didn’t see God, but he trusted him—more than the visible power and might of Pharaoh. In the midst of suffering, God provided for Moses and even appointed him to go back to Egypt and be the Lord’s instrument of deliverance. By faith, we trust in God’s promises more than what our eyes see. By faith, we trust that the invisible God has been made visible in Christ. We look to the cross, to Jesus, not to our sufferings, to know what God thinks of us. By faith, we endure all that this world throws at us, disease and persecution, even the hostility of friends and family, for we know that no suffering is worth comparing to the glories of heaven. Run the race in faith, faith in Christ’s victory over the powers of this world, with eyes fixed on Jesus, who has promised that He will never leave us nor forsake us.

In the midst of weakness, fix your eyes on Jesus. Fix your eyes on the One who made Himself weak for you. By faith, Moses trusted in God rather than in the riches and treasures of this world. He knew that He already had an eternal inheritance. “He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward.” He exchanged the treasures of Egypt—the glory and honor that were rightfully his as the son of Pharaoh’s daughter—for service of God and the reproach of the world. By faith, we too endure weakness and deprivation, trusting in the God who emptied Himself for us. “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” Christ set aside His eternal glory, the joy that was rightfully His, in order to suffer the cross for you and for me. He made Himself weak to save those who were weak; He became man to save man. By faith, we face this world’s reproaches, knowing that we are only following the pattern of Christ, as Moses did. Run the race in faith, faith in the eternal reward that Christ has promised you, with eyes fixed on Jesus, who emptied Himself to deliver you from all your enemies.
Run the race with eyes fixed on Jesus. Your faith cannot save you unless its focus, its object, is Jesus. Only Jesus can save you, and He has, with His suffering, death, and resurrection. He is the founder and perfecter of your faith. He created faith within you through the power of His Word, and He will bring that faith to completion as He carries you across the finish line. Your faith is not your own; it is a creation of Christ, and He that created it nourishes it through His Word, through His Body and Blood. You have much in common with the great cloud of witnesses. None of them endured their many afflictions on their own, but only through the object of their faith—the true God, invisible but revealed in Jesus Christ. They all had faith, and the object of that faith was the same as yours: Jesus Christ. And they ran the race with eyes fixed on Jesus, whom they knew only in promise, but you know as the One who has come, who emptied Himself for you, and redeemed the entire world through His death and resurrection. Your sins cannot burden you: they have been atoned for by the blood of Christ, washed away in Baptism, forgiven in the Absolution. Your enemies cannot hinder you: despite all appearances, they have been defeated; they cannot threaten your eternal inheritance. For some of you, the finish line is closer than others, but for all of us, it is still ahead, and standing there is Jesus Himself, surrounded by all the saints, that great cloud of witnesses, to welcome you to your eternal inheritance. It is yours—by faith, faith in Jesus. In His name, Amen.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Proper 14 of Series C (Luke 12:22-34)

“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” 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 mission festival comes from the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the twelfth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ, we fear, we worry, we are anxious. We fear the future, what tomorrow might hold, and we are almost afraid to watch the news or read the paper. We worry about the needs of our body, fretting over the budget, the grocery bill, the price of gas. We are anxious for our children and grandchildren, and we wonder what kind of world they are going to inherit. We fear, we worry, we are anxious. We fear the opinions of our peers, we worry about our looks, we are anxious about our clothes. We fear for our checking account, we worry about paychecks, we are anxious about bills. We fear the words of others, we worry what they might say about us, we are anxious for our reputation. We fear, we worry, we are anxious—all the time.

This fear, this worry, this anxiety paralyzes us, it holds us in bondage, wrapped in chains forged in the concerns of this world. Fear keeps us from speaking of Christ to friends and family. We fear for our reputation, we worry about rejection, we are anxious about what they might think of us. Fear makes us live the Christian life quietly or even in silence. We fear being labeled, we worry about being made fun of, we are anxious about not fitting in. Fear makes us compromise with the world, indulging in all of its ungodly behaviors because we’re afraid not to. Fear causes us to follow the advice of others to keep religion to ourselves. We have the only message that this world truly needs to hear; we have the proclamation that gives hope in the midst of suffering, forgiveness in the midst of sin, victory in the midst of death, and through fear we keep it to ourselves. We fear pushing others away, we worry about a changed relationship, we are anxious about losing our children and grandchildren, our siblings and friends. Fear holds us hostage, and the price it demands is silence, a price we are all too willing to pay.

Into this prison of fear, worry, and anxiety comes Christ, declaring with love, with grace, with compassion, “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Fear not, little flock, for Christ has come to put an end to all fear. Jesus came to destroy fear at its source, to break its chains by removing its cause: sin, death, and Satan. Fear comes from this unholy trinity, and Christ triumphed over them all with His death and victorious resurrection. Fear not, little flock, Jesus’ suffering paid the price for sin, His death broke the power of death, and when He rose, He displayed His victory throughout the world to destroy all fear. There is nothing left to fear; this world of sin and death has been defeated, it has been conquered, Christ has risen in victory!

Fear not, little flock, God is well-pleased to give to you the kingdom, a heavenly treasure, an inheritance that will never wear out. God is well-pleased with the world because He is well-pleased with Christ, and now it is His pleasure to give to you and to me a heavenly treasure that is more than anything this world can offer. Fear not, little flock, you have the treasures of heaven because you belong to Christ. Fear not, nothing that this world can do to you can take that away. You can lose your money, your clothing, your food, your reputation, and even your life, but the world cannot take away what Christ has won for you. Fear not when you witness, when you serve, for it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom; man can do nothing to you eternal treasure, and so go forth boldly to proclaim Christ to all around you. Fear not, little flock, for through Christ’s death and His victorious resurrection you are forgiven when you fear, but more than that, Good Friday and Easter have destroyed fear itself. In the Name of Jesus, who conquered all fear by destroying its source, Amen.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Proper 13 of Series C (Luke 12:13-21)

“Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.” 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 comes from the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the twelfth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ, we sing it every Sunday, in fact, we will sing it not long after this sermon. Simple words, but profound words, one verse of a hymn as the gifts of God’s people are carried to the altar. “We give Thee but Thine own, whatever the gift may be; all that we have is Thine alone, a trust, O Lord, from Thee.” In our congregation, as well as in many others, these words have become a part of the fabric of our life together, an important piece of our worship each Lord’s Day. And we all know what these words mean; they aren’t a mystery, they aren’t unclear. With this hymn on our lips, we declare that all of our possessions belong to God, they are a gift from Him, and we only manage them as His stewards for the good of His kingdom and for the good of our neighbor. When we place an envelope in the offering plate, we are simply giving back to God what already belongs to Him, acknowledging Him as the giver of every good gift. By singing these words, we are declaring an important and profound truth: all things belong to God—our money, our possessions, even our own lives—not to us.

But we don’t believe it. We say the words, but our hearts are far from them. Maybe you’re someone really pious, who truly believes that “We give Thee but Thine own” as the offering plate comes around, but when you come home, you’re back to thinking of your possessions as your own. The rest of us, we aren’t even that pious. We may sing the hymn like everyone else, but deep down, we don’t believe those words; we still believe that our money, our possessions, and our lives belong to us. It’s so American: the things of this world that I have accumulated through my labor are mine. They belong to me, they are mine to possess, to use however I want to. And that belief changes how we approach the offering plate. I’m not giving God what belongs to Him already, the firstfruits of what He has graciously given to me with great thankfulness. Instead, I’m giving to God something that I earned from my own labor; its mine, and now I show God how much I love Him by giving to Him some of what I’ve earned.

The pronouns that we use are vitally important; they reveal just how we view our possessions. Did you notice how often the rich man in our text used the pronoun ‘my’? My crops, my grain, my good, my soul. In his eyes, it all belonged to him, to do with what he wanted. And what he wanted was to enjoy it. “And I will say to my soul, Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” That’s what money and possessions are for, if they belong to you alone: they are to bring you pleasure. Sure, you may put some of the leftovers in the offering plate, you may give some to charity, but the rest is to give you pleasure, to make your life better. The things that you think belong to you are to bring you joy and relaxation. Relax, eat, drink, be merry! Build bigger barns to hold your great bounty! Store it up for yourself, for your own good—you earned it! They don’t belong to anyone else but you, and so they are yours to do with whatever you want. Isn’t that how we look at our money and possessions, whether we have much or little? They belong to us, not to our neighbor or anyone else, and so they are for my good. Isn’t that how we even think of our bodies and our lives?

This is a radical individualism, encouraged by our culture and our sinful nature: what I have is my own, and no one, not even God, has a claim on them! Therefore our possessions isolate us from others, they divide and separate. Notice how the rich man, when he is blessed with a bountiful crop, doesn’t go to God in prayer, he doesn’t consult his family or speak with his friends. Instead, he actually has a conversation with himself, the only one who will listen! “He thought to himself, ‘What shall I do, for I have nowhere to store my crops?’” His wealth has isolated him from all others, because he sees it as his alone, to use however he pleases. Earthly treasure threatens to divide us from others, it threatens to separate us from our God, in fact, it threatens to become our God. No wonder St. Paul calls covetousness ‘idolatry.’

The rich man trusted in his possessions as his god; he thought they belonged to him, that he could depend on them, that they wouldn’t fail him. But God quickly shattered that illusion: “Fool! This night your soul is required of you, and the things you have prepared, whose will they be?” The rich man trusted in his possessions, but his possessions couldn’t conquer the grave. Death still sought him and claimed him, just as it does every child of Adam upon this earth, rich or poor. The psalmist declares about us all, “When he dies he will carry nothing away; his glory will not go down after him.” It is at the moment of death that our trust in our possessions, our claim that they are ours, is revealed to be foolishness. Our goods cannot save us from the grave, for as we heard in the Introit this morning, “Truly no man can ransom another, or give to God the price of his life, for the ransom of their life is costly and can never suffice, that he should live on forever and never see the pit.” Even our lives are not our own, they belong to our Creator, and they will be demanded back from us one day, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that all the wealth of the world can do about it. In fact, if we think that our wealth is our own, if we trust in our possessions above all else, they have the opposite effect. Far from saving us from death, earthly wealth, if we place our trust in it, if we claim it as our own, they can only deliver death.

And so Jesus doesn’t deal in earthly wealth. A man came to him and said, “Teacher, tell my brother to divide the inheritance with me.” Jesus responds, “Man, who made me a judge or arbitrator over you?” He is no arbiter of earthly wealth; his kingdom is not of this world, for he has come to bring a much greater treasure. He is a judge, but not a judge over money and possessions. He is the judge of the living and the dead. His judgment is over the things of eternity, and He won’t waste His time judging property disputes, for that’s the point of His parable: earthly goods have no value when death and the final judgment come. “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions.”

The final judgment isn’t determined by the size of your pocketbook or your TV. Neither wealth nor poverty will save you from death or grant you access into God’s kingdom. While the rich may be able to afford better doctors, wealth cannot defeat death. The psalmist declares definitively, “Truly no man can ransom another, or give to God the price of his life, for the ransom of their life is costly and can never suffice, that he should live on forever and never see the pit.” Nothing we can do, no amount of wealth or possessions that we claim as ‘mine’ can offer the ransom for our soul. Only the blood of Christ can do that. Jesus came to offer the ransom price for our souls, to buy them back from the clutches of sin and death. He doesn’t deal in earthly treasure, but in heavenly, as we hear in the Small Catechism: “[He] purchased and won me from all sin, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death.” Christ’s death paid the price for your sin; His cross frees you from the power of death itself. Yes, our lives are not our own; they have been purchased by Jesus’s own blood. And now He offers us a treasure beyond any that this world offers: we are given heavenly treasure, the very glories of His eternal kingdom.

This is truly a treasure worth rejoicing in! The rich man foolishly said to Himself, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.” The tragedy is that this rich man had the same reaction to earthly treasure that we are to have over heavenly treasure. The Scriptures call on us to relax, eat, drink, and be merry, but not over earthly treasure. Instead, the relaxation we are called to is the Sabbath rest of heaven, we are to eat and drink at the Lord’s Table here and in eternity, and the merry rejoicing is over Christ’s salvation. Yes, relax, eat, drink, and be merry in the Lord’s salvation, for He has offered the price that you couldn’t pay, He has ransomed your soul, forgiving your sins and saving you from all your enemies. You have heavenly treasure, treasure that endures, treasure that will never be taken away. Rejoice! Relax, eat, drink, and be merry in Christ’s salvation!

And as we rejoice in heavenly treasure, we seek to use earthly treasure for the good of others. We have been set free from reliance on the treasures of this world to bring us pleasure or joy; we have an eternal treasure that is beyond anything that this world can offer. So, instead of using what has been given to us for our own good, as if it belongs to us, we can in joy seek to serve God’s kingdom and our neighbors with what He has given to us. The very first line of Jesus’ parable is key: “The land of a rich man produced plentifully.” Who gave this rich man such abundance? God Himself. Everything that we have, little or much, is a gift from our Creator. Nothing belongs to us; we are simply stewards of whatever the Lord sees fit to give us, and so we truly “give Thee but Thine own” when we use what the Lord has blessed us with to support the work of the Church or to serve our neighbor. The treasure of this world isn’t for us, it’s for others, because Christ has already given us the only treasure that we need, the only treasure that will endure beyond the grave. In your baptism you already possess everything, so that when God demands back your life, He will not say, ‘Fool!’ but ‘Welcome, my beloved child.’ In the Name of Jesus, who offered the ransom for our souls by the price of His own blood, Amen.

Monday, July 1, 2013

The Confessing Christian

Christians confess. That is simply what Christians do; confession is what makes us Christians in the first place. You are a Christian because you confess Christ, from the simplest, basic confession of the New Testament, “Jesus is Lord,” to the complexities of the Athanasian Creed. Christians confess, and our confession is that of Christ as God in the flesh, our Savior who died and rose again for us. Having heard this message, we cannot help but speak it back in joy to our neighbors and our God. In fact, to ‘confess’ means to ‘say the same thing,’ to repeat back to someone else what you have already heard. Therefore, to confess the faith is to speak back to God and to the world what we have been taught by Him in the first place. And what He has taught us is Christ: His death, His resurrection, for us, in our place.

What God has taught us is our need for Christ. The Law comes before the Gospel; before we can confess our Savior, we need to confess that we need a Savior. This is also a matter of ‘saying the same thing;’ God tells us clearly in His Word that we are sinners condemned to eternal death, and we respond, we speak back to Him and the world with that same message. God shows us His Law, encapsulated in the Ten Commandments, and declares: “These you have not kept.” We hear that proclamation and we respond by saying the same thing: “These I have not kept.” Then, and only then, are we prepared to hear and confess the saving message of Christ, His death, His resurrection, for us, in our place.

Christians confess; that’s simply what we do. We confess our sin and we confess our Savior. The Law is proclaimed to us: we confess. The Gospel is proclaimed to us: we confess. Our mouths are constantly speaking back to God and the world what God has first declared to us. The Christian therefore lives within the dynamic of both Law and Gospel; we are constantly examining our lives according to God’s Word, and where we see sin, we confess it, and hear Christ’s forgiveness applied to us.

Christians confess; that’s simply what we do. Christians come to the Divine Service knowing that they need to confess and receive the blessed absolution. Christians go to private confession and absolution because they know of sins that need to be confessed and forgiven. Christians who avail themselves of both Sunday morning and private confession and absolution will then confess to their neighbors, admitting their sins and asking for forgiveness. The Lord bless your confession, of your great sin, and your greater Savior, each and every day!

Proper 8 of Series C (Luke 9:51-62)

“When the days drew near for Him to be taken up, He set His face to go to Jerusalem.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the ninth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ, have you ever seen determination? More specifically, have your ever looked into someone’s eyes and have seen the steel there, the firmness of purpose that the job was going to get done, no matter what? Perhaps you have seen it in the face of an athlete, as he prepares to take the winning shot, or in the eyes of a political or military leader, who is absolutely committed to leading those in his charge to their goal. If you have, then I think you can picture what Jesus looked like in our text today as He “set His face to go to Jerusalem.” This moment marks the turning point of Luke’s Gospel, and from this point forward, Jesus is driving toward Jerusalem, for: CHRIST HAS SET HIS FACE TOWARD OUR SALVATION. But the Samaritans want nothing to do with it. “When the days drew near for Him to be taken up, He set His face to go to Jerusalem. And He sent messengers ahead of Him, who went and entered a village of the Samaritans, to make preparations for him. But the people did not receive Him, because His face was set toward Jerusalem.” They know His resolve, that He is determined to go to Jerusalem, that His eyes are set in that direction and will not be deterred. They are unwilling to pay the price that goes with following Christ, they will not make the commitment that discipleship will demand from them, and so they reject Him.

We can’t help but be indignant toward those Samaritans, toward all those people ‘out there’ who have rejected our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. At least we understand the cost of discipleship. But do we really? CHRIST HAS SET HIS FACE TOWARD OUR SALVATION, but have we truly set our face toward Him? Do we even understand the cost that following Christ will require from us? If we, like the disciples, think that we truly understand the cost, then Jesus has a lesson for us today. He rebukes His headstrong followers, and then shows them what discipleship truly entails. A man comes to Jesus, boldly declaring that “I will follow you wherever you go.” Doesn’t this sound like the bold assertions of the disciples, of the bold assertions that we make when things are going well? At those times, it is easy to say that we will follow Jesus whatever the cost. But Jesus holds the bill, and it is quite steep: “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.” Would you be willing to give up all of your worldly possessions for the sake of Jesus? Are you willing to give up your television, video games, sports, or movies in order to focus more on Christ? If an employer wanted you to do something immoral, would you cave in or stand firm? When push comes to shove, would you freely give up your job, your home, or all your things in order to confess Christ? Maybe our commitment isn’t as strong as we first thought.

Jesus takes the initiative with the second man, calling on him to “Follow me,” but the man, while willing, has other tasks to perform. He first must attend to his family. Jesus’ reply should shock us: “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Jesus here preaches a drastic reordering of priorities. Nothing, absolutely nothing, stands in the way of following Christ. Are your squirming in your pews yet? The things of this world, sure we can understand giving them up for Christ (although we sure don’t want to), but our family? Especially a family emergency? How can Jesus demand this much?!

But if we expect to find any exceptions, we’ll be disappointed. A third man, who has perhaps heard the other two conversations, is willing to follow after Jesus. He simply wants the opportunity to say goodbye to his family. Once again, Jesus’ reply shocks us all. “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” Sin’s greatest perversion is that it takes the good gifts of God, our possessions and our family, and uses them to distract us from Him. Jesus has called us out of this world, and we are to no longer seek the approval of others, even those closest to us. If our family opposes itself to our faith in Christ, then we must follow Christ. If family demands priority over the things of God, then we must follow Christ. If family distracts us from a complete and total focus on Jesus, then we must follow Christ. Even if we are completely committed to Christ in every other area of our life, if we love those closest to us more than Him, we have failed to truly follow him, we are not fit for the kingdom of God. 

Well, what do you think now? After Jesus gives us these three examples, do you really think that you in the pew or me in the pulpit or the disciples two thousand years have ever demonstrated the commitment Christ demands? Jesus demands from us everything, body and soul, family and friends, possessions and all that we have. He requires a drastic reordering of priorities, He wants Himself placed above all else. Simply put, He requires nothing less than perfect obedience. But we are sinful people, we even let the good things of this world distract us from Jesus, we spend much of our lives with one hand on the plow, gazing back at the things of this world. CHRIST HAS SET HIS FACE TOWARD OUR SALVATION, but we don’t set our face toward Him. We aren’t fit to follow Jesus, we aren’t fit for the kingdom of God. In the face of such extreme and shocking demands, we cry out in protest. Who could possibly fulfill these requirements, who could show the commitment that Jesus demands from us?

“When the days drew near for Him to be taken up, He set His face to go to Jerusalem.” Jesus Christ, the second person of the Trinity, left His heavenly throne behind, He left all the glory that was rightfully His from eternity in order to become man. Not only did He become man, but He wandered this earth, taking on the filth of our sin and healing our diseases. He didn’t have a place to call His home, He abandoned all earthly possessions, Jesus became dirt poor. “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.” He was committed to accomplish the task set before Him, and when He set His face toward Jerusalem, He wasn’t going to let anything come between Him and His goal. He had no shelter, no comfortable place to sleep, but His resolve was firm. He was going to Jerusalem, for there He would give up His life on the cross for each one of us. There He would show the commitment to our salvation that we couldn’t show to Him because of our sin, He would deliver us no matter what. CHRIST HAS SET HIS FACE TOWARD OUR SALVATION for He set His face toward Jerusalem and the cross.

The Father’s love compelled Him to walk that road, and Jesus’ love for you and me drove Him to that cross. Jesus said to the man who wanted to bury his father “Leave the dead to bury their own dead,” and He said to the man who wanted to say farewell to his family, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.” This same Jesus cried out on the cross “My God, my God, why have your forsaken me?” Jesus was willing to suffer separation from His heavenly Father upon the cross, He was willing to leave His earthly family behind, for nothing, not His love for His Father, not His love for His family, not any of the things of this world, could deter Him from doing what had to be done, from suffering the very wrath of God in our place. He was committed to crushing sin, death, and Satan, He was committed to delivering you, and in His love for you He was committed to suffer all that our sin deserved, all that our lack of commitment deserved. CHRIST HAS SET HIS FACE TOWARD OUR SALVATION, from the moment He became man, to the moment He turned toward Jerusalem, to the moment He breathed His last on the cross.

Because CHRIST HAS SET HIS FACE TOWARD OUR SALVATION, He has proved Himself the only One truly fit for the kingdom of God. He did not put His hand on the plow and then look back, but instead was determined to save you, me, and all people from our sin. And so the Father vindicated Jesus, He declared Him to be the conqueror over sin, death, and Satan when He raised Him from the tomb. Due to our sin, we couldn’t commit ourselves fully to Him, but He committed Himself fully to us for our salvation, and now He makes us fit for the kingdom of God. The same determination that led Him to the cross now leads Him to seek us out and claim us as His own, declaring us fit when He creates faith within us through the Word and the waters of Holy Baptism.

In baptism, Christ makes us His disciples, and through faith, we set our face toward Him. This is not an easy task, for even though Christ has fulfilled the commitment that He demands, that demand still exists. We are still called to place Christ above all else, even our own family, we are still called to willingly give up our worldly goods, even our own lives if necessary. What has changed is that we now have forgiveness for when we stumble, for when we fail to follow Christ above all others, when we are distracted by the things of this world from our task as His disciples. CHRIST HAS SET HIS FACE TOWARD OUR SALVATION, and therefore the same commitment that He demonstrated on the cross is now extended toward us each and every time we fall. He is committed to bringing us forgiveness, through the word of Absolution, through our Baptism, where He made us fit for the kingdom of God, and through the lavish overflowing of grace in the Supper of His Body and Blood. Christ is committed to our salvation, He is committed to bringing you to heaven someday, and this determination should not be underestimated. The same determination that led Him to the cross for you and your salvation will bring you to His side in the new heavens and the new earth, where we will set our face toward the Lamb on the throne for all eternity. In the Name of Jesus, who set His face toward Jerusalem, toward suffering, toward the cross, for you, Amen.