“So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.” 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 sixth chapter of Paul’s letter to the church of Christ in Rome. Dear friends in Christ: I watched many movies growing up, and I especially enjoyed watching the old movies that Grandma and Grandpa had: old westerns and cartoons. But there was one old movie in particular that I, like many others, probably watched only once: Old Yeller. Very few people watch this movie today, but for several generations of children, watching it was almost a rite of passage, and its story, especially the ending, is so well known that it’s almost proverbial. The beloved dog saves the family from a rabid wolf, but in the process is himself bitten. They lock him in the corncrib and watch to see what will happen. Just as the boy Travis and all the viewers feared, in a few weeks Old Yeller confronts his beloved owner with snarls and deadly teeth. He has rabies. There is only one thing to do with a rabid animal. You cannot reform it to cease from violence, as desperately as you want to. You cannot train it to be better; rabies has so damaged its brain so that it cannot even recognize loved ones. It will not stop doing evil or start doing good. Only one solution will suffice; and I, along with generations of other children, shed my tears with Travis as he pointed the gun at his beloved friend. Old Yeller needed to die.
Travis knew reality; part of him growing up was realizing what had to be done for his friend’s good and the good of the family. A death needed to occur; nothing short of that would suffice. It was wishful thinking, a denial of reality, to think that a rabid dog could be reformed or trained to be better. But we engage in the same sort of wishful thinking every day regarding our sinful nature, denying reality and thinking that reformation or training can suffice instead of death. We are corrupted with sin, filled with its stain, infected with a disease that is far worse than rabies. It controls our actions, inclining us toward violence and hatred, polluting our thoughts and poisoning our words. And if left untreated, this disease of sin will not lead simply to depravity and death, but ultimately to eternal judgment and the very wrath of the living God. We know that our problem is sin—that the good we want to do we do not do, and the evil that we wish to avoid we cannot elude—but we, unlike the boy Travis, cannot grasp the solution. We think that we can reform our sinful nature, teaching it to avoid evil, or train it to seek after the good; we think we can handle it ourselves.
Our intentions are good; they truly are. We want to be rid of sin, because we see just how much damage it can do to us and to those around us. We sincerely want to live a better life, and cease from letting our friends and family down, or hurting them in thought, word, and deed. So we try to reform our sinful nature, putting it into submission through our own brute strength. We punish ourselves for evil thoughts, sometimes quite violently, like the monks and their whips, but most often more subtly, by denying ourselves some pleasure. We get angry with our sinful flesh, we give it a stern talking to, we catalogue every wrong and bring it forth to shame ourselves. Or, on the positive side, we put our flesh into training, seeking to inculcate the habits that lead toward the good. We read the great moral philosophers and we try to emulate them, we look at ‘good’ people and attempt to copy their habits. We try, on the strength of our own will, to think good thoughts and seek after good actions. But every attempt fails. The more we fight against sin on our own strength, the more we find. Our sinful nature is a multi-headed monster; and with each head we lop off, it seems that four more emerge, each stronger than the last. We may achieve some sort of outward obedience through strenuous effort, but we know that seething beneath the surface is a cesspool of sin, just waiting to bubble up again.
The solution doesn’t lie in our power; it is sheer foolishness to attempt to reform or train something that simply needs to die. And only Jesus Christ has the ability to do the job, not with a pioneer’s rifle, but with a font. His weapon is water and the Word. “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? We were buried with Him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” Our sinful nature cannot be reformed or trained, any more than you can reform or train a rabid dog. It must be put to death, and Christ does the work, because we have neither the will nor the ability to do it ourselves. Only He has the will, because He submitted to the Father’s will for our salvation, and freely gave Himself up into death. Only He has the ability, because as true man He stood in our place, even unto death, and as true God He offered the sacrifice sufficient for the sin of the world. “For the death He died He died to sin, once for all, but the life He lives He lives to God.”
Christian baptism has an unbreakable connection with the cross and empty tomb of Jesus. Notice how often the word ‘with’ is used in our text. “We were buried therefore with Him;” “If we have been united with Him in a death like His, we shall certainly be united with Him in a resurrection like His;” “Our old self was crucified with Him;” “If we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with Him.” Baptism unites us with Christ’s death and resurrection, and thus it is a real drowning, and a real rising again to life. In Baptism, Christ’s death and resurrection become our own, with all that He won for us there. Christ puts us to death in His death, and He raises us to new life in His resurrection.
He sets us free from the bondage of our sin; what we could never do through our own efforts or strength He does in the drowning and resurrecting waters. “We know that our old self was crucified with Him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin.” You who have died in those waters have been justified, declared righteous by God almighty because Jesus paid the price you deserved in your place. He didn’t come to give you a better method to reform and train your sinful nature; He came to put it to death, to crucify it with Him, thus justifying you and setting you free from your sin.
This fact, this present and abiding reality in our lives, thus changes completely how we deal with sin. We do not attempt to reform or train our sinful nature, but we put it to death, daily, in a return to our baptism. There we died, and each and every day we push the old self back beneath those killing waters in repentance. In one of his great insights, Martin Luther teaches us to confess in the Small Catechism: “[Baptism] 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.” That is what we do with the old self, the Old Adam in us, our sinful nature: we drown it, day by day, by repentance and faith in a return to the waters of drowning. Only there did Christ bring about the death we need.
This font doesn’t look much like a place of execution, but that is what it is; here we are put to death and laid in the tomb, crucified with Christ. But if the font is a place of death, a burial chamber, then it is also an empty tomb, the place of resurrection. Many baptismal fonts look like mausoleums, especially those with covers; but when the cover is removed, they look much like an empty tomb, for that is what they are, our empty tomb, preaching to the entire world that our graves will one day look the same. “Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with Him. We know that Christ being raised from the dead will never die again; death no longer has dominion over Him.” Death has no lordship over Christ, it does not rule over Him. He died once, and He will never die again. There is nothing else to die for. And it is the same with you. Because you died with Christ, you will live with Him; death has no lordship over you. Having died in the font, there is nothing else to die for, and thus your natural death is simply the final destruction of your sinful flesh in anticipation of resurrection to new life; death does not rule over you. You belong to Christ. As He rose, so you too will rise. “So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.” In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
Trinity 6 (Matthew 5:20-26)
“For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” 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 fifth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ: there are two kinds of righteousness in this world, self-righteousness and Christ’s righteousness. Self-righteousness is outward; Christ’s righteousness is inward. Self-righteousness it is concerned with show, with making certain everyone knows just how righteous it is. Everything is picture-perfect; like a well-manicured lawn and newly painted house, self-righteousness makes sure everyone can see how clean it is. No violation of the commandments here; the whitewashed walls reveal no imperfection. “All these I have kept since my youth.” No murder, no adultery, no stealing here, and self-righteousness makes sure that everyone knows it. “I thank God that I am not like other men.” Self-righteousness is loud, always pointing to itself, always making sure that others see just how righteous it is; how pious, how ‘religious,’ how charitable. If self-righteousness can afford it, it gets its name on plaques and buildings; if not, it just makes sure everyone around it sees how holy, morally upright, and certain of God’s favor it is.
Self-righteousness feeds on pride; pride in its own achievements and holiness. Self-righteousness is driven by competition; comparing itself with others, showing off its own beautiful lawn and whitewashed walls next to its dingy neighbors. Pride and competition lead to anger at every perceived slight, they lead to insults toward those who are not nearly so righteous, they lead to thoughts of revenge when others sin against them. Self-righteousness exalts itself over others, and it despises those who are beneath it. And not only toward strangers, but against brothers and sisters, those who have the same Father, God Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth. Self-righteousness divides itself from others, from its spouse, from its children, from its parents, from pastors, and from fellow Church members. Every sin by others is magnified by self-righteousness; each is a reason to rage in anger or to break off the relationship, to seek revenge instead of reconciliation.
Self-righteousness refuses to be reconciled; it has too much pride to admit wrong and repent. Self-righteousness holds onto each and every perceived slight; it is much too concerned with what others have done to it to examine itself for any sin. Every situation of division between brothers and sisters in the Church is the fault of someone else. When brought to the table to reconcile, the tone is not humble repentance but wounded pride. There is a demand for its own rights, for the respect that its outward righteousness should’ve earned. Self-righteousness is so consumed with itself that it cannot imagine ever being in the wrong. Every request for reconciliation is then an opportunity for everyone else to repent, for everyone else to acknowledge what should be obvious: the holiness, the piety, the impeachable moral character of self-righteousness.
Jesus exposes self-righteousness; that is why He came. He sees past the beautiful landscaping to see the corruption within; in fact, He calls self-righteousness “white-washed tombs,” structures that have the appearance of good, but are full of death. Self-righteousness is outward; Jesus points inward, to the heart. He takes the commandments and He sharpens them, so that they slice through the white-washed walls and expose the death that dwells inside. “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder, and whoever murders will be liable to the judgment.’” Self-righteousness nods its head smugly; no judgment here, one can dig as deep as they want and they will find no deaths on my record. But Jesus doesn’t stop there. “I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment, whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” The Fifth Commandment will not be avoided so easily, the Law will not be deceived—self-righteousness stands condemned.
Self-righteousness cannot tame the Law, it cannot control it, and it cannot fulfill it; it can keep from taking another life (usually), but it cannot keep from anger and insults, it cannot keep from causing division. Through pride and competition, self-righteousness tears apart every relationship in the horizontal realm, especially between it and its brothers and sisters in the Church. And Jesus declares that the destruction of horizontal relationships destroys the vertical relationship. Those who hate their brothers and sisters will be judged by the Father, they will be held accountable by the One whose wrath burns against sin; self-righteousness stands guilty before God Almighty.
Self-righteousness has nowhere to go, no place of escape. Jesus has exposed it, he has cut to the heart of the outward show of piety and revealed the damnable corruption that dwells therein. This work is necessary, because stubborn self-righteousness must be broken by the Law to drive it to repentance. But Jesus did not come only to reveal the darkness; He came to overcome it. Jesus did not come only to condemn self-righteousness, He came to destroy it, putting it to death and raising up His own righteousness in its place. Jesus did not come only to show the sin that lies behind the façade of self-righteousness, He came to die for that sin and rise to forgive it. Jesus did not come only to show that self-righteousness is liable to judgment, He came to make Himself liable to judgment, accountable before God for the sin of the world.
Jesus came to place Himself under the judgment deserved for the sins of self-righteousness. He was not angry with His brothers, even though they condemned Him to death, but yet He was liable to judgment. He did not insult His brothers, even though they insulted Him, but yet He was liable to the council. He did not say ‘You fool!’ even though they called His preaching foolishness, but yet He was liable to the hell of fire. He was liable in the place of self-righteousness, to restore the self-righteous to the Father. He was perfectly righteous, outwardly righteous and inwardly righteous, and He died in the place of the self-righteous, to give to them a righteousness that is not their own, but His. The vertical relationship, destroyed by the sins of self-righteousness, is restored; God is reconciled with the self-righteous, for Christ gives His righteousness to all who in humility repent of their self-righteousness and cling to Him in faith.
Self-righteousness is put to death at the font; there the relationship with God is restored, and a new righteousness, Christ’s righteousness, is raised up. Christ’s righteousness then seeks reconciliation with those in the horizontal realm. Reconciliation with God comes through humility, the humility of repentance and the humble reception of forgiveness. Reconciliation with man comes through humility, the humility of repentance and the humble reception of forgiveness. Christ’s righteousness does not fix its eyes on what others have done to it, but instead in humility repents of what it has done to others. It freely confesses its sin to God and man. Jesus instructs those clothed with His righteousness: “If you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.”
Christ’s righteousness seeks harmony, reconciliation; it doesn’t insist on its own rights, it doesn’t demand its due, but on the contrary it admits sin and asks for forgiveness. Its relationship with God in the vertical realm is based on repentance and forgiveness, and so are its relationships with brothers and sisters in Christ. Jesus says explicitly where pride and the refusal to reconcile in humility will lead: “Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. Truly I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.” Pride has no place before God or man; humility instead is the way of Christ’s righteousness: the humble confession of one’s sin, and the humble reception of grace, forgiveness for that sin.
There are two kinds of righteousness in our world, self-righteousness and Christ’s righteousness. Self-righteousness is outward; Christ’s righteousness is inward. And as Christ Himself teaches, one is far superior to the other. “I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Self-righteousness leads only to condemnation and death; Christ’s righteousness brings forgiveness and life. Self-righteousness is your natural condition; Christ’s righteousness is His gift to you, won through the cross and empty tomb and given in the Word and Holy Sacraments. Christ’s righteousness puts self-righteousness to death, drowning it in the font at your baptism and every day since. Your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees because your righteousness is Christ’s righteousness. He stood in your place and received your condemnation, and then rose in your place as the pledge and promise of your resurrection, and now His righteousness is your own, and will be, forever.
It is your connection with Christ that fulfills the Law; both the outer keeping that self-righteousness excels at and the inward keeping that God demands. Because you are connected with Christ, your good works are righteous. The unbeliever does no good works in the eyes of God; self-righteousness is no righteousness at all. And Jesus gives this promise in Matthew chapter thirteen: “To the one who has, more will be given, and he will have an abundance.” Your righteousness exceeds any and all self-righteousness because Christ gives all of His gifts in abundance; He pours His righteousness out on you in His overflowing generosity. The One who multiples loaves and fills boats with fish fulfills all righteousness and He gives all righteousness. In the name of Jesus, Amen.
Self-righteousness feeds on pride; pride in its own achievements and holiness. Self-righteousness is driven by competition; comparing itself with others, showing off its own beautiful lawn and whitewashed walls next to its dingy neighbors. Pride and competition lead to anger at every perceived slight, they lead to insults toward those who are not nearly so righteous, they lead to thoughts of revenge when others sin against them. Self-righteousness exalts itself over others, and it despises those who are beneath it. And not only toward strangers, but against brothers and sisters, those who have the same Father, God Almighty, the Creator of heaven and earth. Self-righteousness divides itself from others, from its spouse, from its children, from its parents, from pastors, and from fellow Church members. Every sin by others is magnified by self-righteousness; each is a reason to rage in anger or to break off the relationship, to seek revenge instead of reconciliation.
Self-righteousness refuses to be reconciled; it has too much pride to admit wrong and repent. Self-righteousness holds onto each and every perceived slight; it is much too concerned with what others have done to it to examine itself for any sin. Every situation of division between brothers and sisters in the Church is the fault of someone else. When brought to the table to reconcile, the tone is not humble repentance but wounded pride. There is a demand for its own rights, for the respect that its outward righteousness should’ve earned. Self-righteousness is so consumed with itself that it cannot imagine ever being in the wrong. Every request for reconciliation is then an opportunity for everyone else to repent, for everyone else to acknowledge what should be obvious: the holiness, the piety, the impeachable moral character of self-righteousness.
Jesus exposes self-righteousness; that is why He came. He sees past the beautiful landscaping to see the corruption within; in fact, He calls self-righteousness “white-washed tombs,” structures that have the appearance of good, but are full of death. Self-righteousness is outward; Jesus points inward, to the heart. He takes the commandments and He sharpens them, so that they slice through the white-washed walls and expose the death that dwells inside. “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder, and whoever murders will be liable to the judgment.’” Self-righteousness nods its head smugly; no judgment here, one can dig as deep as they want and they will find no deaths on my record. But Jesus doesn’t stop there. “I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment, whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” The Fifth Commandment will not be avoided so easily, the Law will not be deceived—self-righteousness stands condemned.
Self-righteousness cannot tame the Law, it cannot control it, and it cannot fulfill it; it can keep from taking another life (usually), but it cannot keep from anger and insults, it cannot keep from causing division. Through pride and competition, self-righteousness tears apart every relationship in the horizontal realm, especially between it and its brothers and sisters in the Church. And Jesus declares that the destruction of horizontal relationships destroys the vertical relationship. Those who hate their brothers and sisters will be judged by the Father, they will be held accountable by the One whose wrath burns against sin; self-righteousness stands guilty before God Almighty.
Self-righteousness has nowhere to go, no place of escape. Jesus has exposed it, he has cut to the heart of the outward show of piety and revealed the damnable corruption that dwells therein. This work is necessary, because stubborn self-righteousness must be broken by the Law to drive it to repentance. But Jesus did not come only to reveal the darkness; He came to overcome it. Jesus did not come only to condemn self-righteousness, He came to destroy it, putting it to death and raising up His own righteousness in its place. Jesus did not come only to show the sin that lies behind the façade of self-righteousness, He came to die for that sin and rise to forgive it. Jesus did not come only to show that self-righteousness is liable to judgment, He came to make Himself liable to judgment, accountable before God for the sin of the world.
Jesus came to place Himself under the judgment deserved for the sins of self-righteousness. He was not angry with His brothers, even though they condemned Him to death, but yet He was liable to judgment. He did not insult His brothers, even though they insulted Him, but yet He was liable to the council. He did not say ‘You fool!’ even though they called His preaching foolishness, but yet He was liable to the hell of fire. He was liable in the place of self-righteousness, to restore the self-righteous to the Father. He was perfectly righteous, outwardly righteous and inwardly righteous, and He died in the place of the self-righteous, to give to them a righteousness that is not their own, but His. The vertical relationship, destroyed by the sins of self-righteousness, is restored; God is reconciled with the self-righteous, for Christ gives His righteousness to all who in humility repent of their self-righteousness and cling to Him in faith.
Self-righteousness is put to death at the font; there the relationship with God is restored, and a new righteousness, Christ’s righteousness, is raised up. Christ’s righteousness then seeks reconciliation with those in the horizontal realm. Reconciliation with God comes through humility, the humility of repentance and the humble reception of forgiveness. Reconciliation with man comes through humility, the humility of repentance and the humble reception of forgiveness. Christ’s righteousness does not fix its eyes on what others have done to it, but instead in humility repents of what it has done to others. It freely confesses its sin to God and man. Jesus instructs those clothed with His righteousness: “If you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.”
Christ’s righteousness seeks harmony, reconciliation; it doesn’t insist on its own rights, it doesn’t demand its due, but on the contrary it admits sin and asks for forgiveness. Its relationship with God in the vertical realm is based on repentance and forgiveness, and so are its relationships with brothers and sisters in Christ. Jesus says explicitly where pride and the refusal to reconcile in humility will lead: “Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. Truly I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.” Pride has no place before God or man; humility instead is the way of Christ’s righteousness: the humble confession of one’s sin, and the humble reception of grace, forgiveness for that sin.
There are two kinds of righteousness in our world, self-righteousness and Christ’s righteousness. Self-righteousness is outward; Christ’s righteousness is inward. And as Christ Himself teaches, one is far superior to the other. “I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” Self-righteousness leads only to condemnation and death; Christ’s righteousness brings forgiveness and life. Self-righteousness is your natural condition; Christ’s righteousness is His gift to you, won through the cross and empty tomb and given in the Word and Holy Sacraments. Christ’s righteousness puts self-righteousness to death, drowning it in the font at your baptism and every day since. Your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees because your righteousness is Christ’s righteousness. He stood in your place and received your condemnation, and then rose in your place as the pledge and promise of your resurrection, and now His righteousness is your own, and will be, forever.
It is your connection with Christ that fulfills the Law; both the outer keeping that self-righteousness excels at and the inward keeping that God demands. Because you are connected with Christ, your good works are righteous. The unbeliever does no good works in the eyes of God; self-righteousness is no righteousness at all. And Jesus gives this promise in Matthew chapter thirteen: “To the one who has, more will be given, and he will have an abundance.” Your righteousness exceeds any and all self-righteousness because Christ gives all of His gifts in abundance; He pours His righteousness out on you in His overflowing generosity. The One who multiples loaves and fills boats with fish fulfills all righteousness and He gives all righteousness. In the name of Jesus, Amen.
Tuesday, July 7, 2015
Trinity 5 (Luke 5:1-11)
“Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” 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 fifth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ, sinful man despises the Word of God; he always has. It did not begin with five black-robed justices, it began with two naked people, Adam and Eve, listening to the voice of the serpent, “Did God really say?” God has uttered His Word on marriage and the place of sexuality within it, He even wrote it into creation; and just in case we didn’t catch it, when His Son comes in the flesh, He reemphasizes what was written long ago. “Have you not read that He who created them from the beginning made them male and female, and said, ‘Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh’?” Jesus’ definition of marriage is the Father’s definition of marriage, and when Paul comes along, he has the same one, too. Marriage is based on sexual complementarity, one man, one woman, and only once the man leaves father and mother and holds fast to his wife, i.e. gets married, do they become one flesh through the sexual act. But sinful man despises God’s Word, it is not sufficient for him, but is explained away by feelings and the theories of social science.
“Did God really say?” Is the Word of God sufficient for us to order our lives? Can or will we live relying upon the Word? Peter certainly found the Word sufficient. Listen to this confession of faith. “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your Word I will let down the nets.” We should not take this statement in isolation. Peter has been hearing the preaching of Jesus from his own boat. The powerful working of the Word created faith within him, and faith responded with a bold confession. Simply on the Word, the promise of Jesus, this weary fisherman will go out into the deep; “At your Word I will let down the nets.” Christ’s Word, and the Word alone, is sufficient for him; he believes, and he acts accordingly.
You have heard the Word of the Lord on marriage and sexual ethics again this very day, very simple, one verse; the Word spoken by the Father through Moses, the Word spoken by Jesus, the Word made flesh, the Word repeated by Saint Paul. This Word has been despised by our world, it has been rejected by judicial fiat, and many in the Church rightly deplore the consequences of removing the gender requirement for marriage. But I would submit to you today that Christians are as much to blame for what has happened as the five black-robed justices. Because the Word was not sufficient for us as it was for Peter, because we lived in fear of what the world could take away, what we might have to give up, we kept quiet. The Word was not enough; we wanted popularity, we wanted pleasure, we wanted peace, we wanted the amenities that this world offered to us.
Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to forgo sexual pleasure until marriage as a confession to the world? Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to risk family harmony and friendships to speak the truth in love to those around them? Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to demand shows and movies that didn’t flaunt promiscuity, or who simply turned the television off? Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to risk the loss of scholarships, varsity sports, and letter jackets to demand that their education or that of their children not undermine the Christian faith? I’ll tell you where they were, because I can tell you where I was: keeping quiet, burying my head in the sand, wanting too much to be liked to take a stand. While many Christian churches stood against the sexual revolution, you only have to look at their actions to see that most Christian people did not; God’s Word on marriage was not sufficient for us, when it was placed next to all that the world offered us.
The Supreme Court’s decision to make marriage genderless, no longer an institution based on sexual complementarity and ordered toward the protection of children, but now simply a relationship of any two people who ‘love each other,’ should call on us to repent. It is the culmination of a decades-long project to undermine biblical morality, and we too often have watched it happen without holding up God’s gift of marriage and calling to repentance those who corrupt this gift. Now there is nothing to do but repent. Simon Peter, in faith, cast out his nets in the midst of the deep, and there, just as Jesus said, he received a catch. And as Jesus often does, He provides in abundance, overflowing abundance, boat-breaking abundance. Luke tells us, “When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!’” Suddenly Peter realizes that standing in his boat is the Creator of the universe, the all-holy God, and his response is terror, it is a confession of his sinfulness.
The Law makes us aware that we stand in the presence of a holy God, a God whose holiness is an all-consuming fire. And this day we need to hear the Law, that we have too often taken the bribe money that this world offered, that the Word was not sufficient for us. Repent. A broken and contrite heart God will not despise. Instead, this day He says to you what He said to Peter, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” Do not be afraid; you are cleansed, made righteous and holy to stand in God’s presence. In terror of His sin before God Almighty, Peter heard the Word of the One who would shed His blood to take away all fear. This same Jesus, no longer in a boat, but still speaking through His Word, says to you this day: Do not be afraid, your sins are forgiven. Every one of them, against every commandment. The shed blood of Jesus covers them all.
For while we, in our lives or in our conversation, didn’t hold up God’s definition of marriage, He did, by sending His Son as the bridegroom to win His bride, the Church. He laid down His life for her, He was faithful to her even to death upon a cross, and now risen from the dead, He takes His rightful place at the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom for all eternity. There Peter will dwell, with you and me, not because we are sinless, but because we are forgiven through the powerful Word of the Lord. The Word gives you everything, all that Jesus won, it is sufficient for us because it gives us what the world cannot give, indeed, gifts that will endure when this world passes away. People come and go; this very creation will be consumed by fire, but the Word of the Lord endures forever, the Word of forgiveness: “Do not be afraid.”
Those who are forgiven are then sent out into this world to proclaim that forgiveness to others. “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” Do you know what the Church’s response to the removal of gender from marriage? Forgiveness. The Church will not stop forgiving those who are caught in sexual sin, or any other sin. That means we must preach the Law to condemn that sin, but we will not stop preaching the Gospel to forgive it. That is what Peter was sent to do: as one who has been forgiven, Jesus sent him to extend forgiveness to other sinners. As Luther says, we are beggars telling other beggars where to find bread. The world is hoping we will stop forgiving; that we will move on to affirmation. But the Christian Church, and Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, will not stop forgiving sinners wherever we find them. We will seek out those who are caught in the devil’s kingdom and catch them with the same Word that caught us, the Word of forgiveness, declaring that Christ died for that sin as He died for all others. Do not be afraid to tell the world that the end to all fear has come.
Do not be afraid to make a stand on the Word of God, the Word which delivered to you forgiveness, life, and salvation. Do not be afraid of what this world will do to you when it finds that you will not submit quietly, that instead of affirmation you speak of forgiveness. Do not be afraid to leave all things behind; the Word is sufficient for you. “And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed Him.” You may lose friends and promotions; you will lose so-called ‘sexual freedom,’ but do not be afraid. Do not be afraid to confess the truth to a world caught in lies, to people caught in lies. Do not respond in hatred, but with the love of Christ; love your neighbor enough to call him from his life of sin. Peter himself teaches us how in our Epistle lesson. “Even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.” Be ready to make a confession in word and action; prepare yourself through the study of God’s Word, and then speak gently but boldly. Have no fear; your crucified Savior has risen to take away all fear. It is no mistake that His first words to His disciples on Easter evening are, “Peace be with you.” He has given you all things; His Word is sufficient for you, and so you say with the psalmist: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?”
Do you know why all of those companies flaunted the rainbow flag after the Supreme Court decision? They took that gamble because they believed that Christians wouldn’t be upset enough to give up the amenities they offered, to actually boycott stores or change credit cards. They are gambling that we will continue to be too enamored with what the world gives to take a stand, that the Word will not be sufficient for us. Do not be afraid. This world will demand much from you in the years to come because you stand against the tide, but the Word is sufficient for you, because the Word gives you everything: forgiveness, life, and salvation, won by the shed blood of Jesus Christ. He gives in abundance; boat-breaking abundance, and what He gives is far more than you will lose: “And take they our life, goods, fame, child, and wife, though these all be gone, our victory has been won; the Kingdom ours remaineth.” In the name of Jesus, Amen.
“Did God really say?” Is the Word of God sufficient for us to order our lives? Can or will we live relying upon the Word? Peter certainly found the Word sufficient. Listen to this confession of faith. “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your Word I will let down the nets.” We should not take this statement in isolation. Peter has been hearing the preaching of Jesus from his own boat. The powerful working of the Word created faith within him, and faith responded with a bold confession. Simply on the Word, the promise of Jesus, this weary fisherman will go out into the deep; “At your Word I will let down the nets.” Christ’s Word, and the Word alone, is sufficient for him; he believes, and he acts accordingly.
You have heard the Word of the Lord on marriage and sexual ethics again this very day, very simple, one verse; the Word spoken by the Father through Moses, the Word spoken by Jesus, the Word made flesh, the Word repeated by Saint Paul. This Word has been despised by our world, it has been rejected by judicial fiat, and many in the Church rightly deplore the consequences of removing the gender requirement for marriage. But I would submit to you today that Christians are as much to blame for what has happened as the five black-robed justices. Because the Word was not sufficient for us as it was for Peter, because we lived in fear of what the world could take away, what we might have to give up, we kept quiet. The Word was not enough; we wanted popularity, we wanted pleasure, we wanted peace, we wanted the amenities that this world offered to us.
Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to forgo sexual pleasure until marriage as a confession to the world? Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to risk family harmony and friendships to speak the truth in love to those around them? Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to demand shows and movies that didn’t flaunt promiscuity, or who simply turned the television off? Where were the Christians of courage, who were willing to risk the loss of scholarships, varsity sports, and letter jackets to demand that their education or that of their children not undermine the Christian faith? I’ll tell you where they were, because I can tell you where I was: keeping quiet, burying my head in the sand, wanting too much to be liked to take a stand. While many Christian churches stood against the sexual revolution, you only have to look at their actions to see that most Christian people did not; God’s Word on marriage was not sufficient for us, when it was placed next to all that the world offered us.
The Supreme Court’s decision to make marriage genderless, no longer an institution based on sexual complementarity and ordered toward the protection of children, but now simply a relationship of any two people who ‘love each other,’ should call on us to repent. It is the culmination of a decades-long project to undermine biblical morality, and we too often have watched it happen without holding up God’s gift of marriage and calling to repentance those who corrupt this gift. Now there is nothing to do but repent. Simon Peter, in faith, cast out his nets in the midst of the deep, and there, just as Jesus said, he received a catch. And as Jesus often does, He provides in abundance, overflowing abundance, boat-breaking abundance. Luke tells us, “When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!’” Suddenly Peter realizes that standing in his boat is the Creator of the universe, the all-holy God, and his response is terror, it is a confession of his sinfulness.
The Law makes us aware that we stand in the presence of a holy God, a God whose holiness is an all-consuming fire. And this day we need to hear the Law, that we have too often taken the bribe money that this world offered, that the Word was not sufficient for us. Repent. A broken and contrite heart God will not despise. Instead, this day He says to you what He said to Peter, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” Do not be afraid; you are cleansed, made righteous and holy to stand in God’s presence. In terror of His sin before God Almighty, Peter heard the Word of the One who would shed His blood to take away all fear. This same Jesus, no longer in a boat, but still speaking through His Word, says to you this day: Do not be afraid, your sins are forgiven. Every one of them, against every commandment. The shed blood of Jesus covers them all.
For while we, in our lives or in our conversation, didn’t hold up God’s definition of marriage, He did, by sending His Son as the bridegroom to win His bride, the Church. He laid down His life for her, He was faithful to her even to death upon a cross, and now risen from the dead, He takes His rightful place at the marriage feast of the Lamb in His kingdom for all eternity. There Peter will dwell, with you and me, not because we are sinless, but because we are forgiven through the powerful Word of the Lord. The Word gives you everything, all that Jesus won, it is sufficient for us because it gives us what the world cannot give, indeed, gifts that will endure when this world passes away. People come and go; this very creation will be consumed by fire, but the Word of the Lord endures forever, the Word of forgiveness: “Do not be afraid.”
Those who are forgiven are then sent out into this world to proclaim that forgiveness to others. “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” Do you know what the Church’s response to the removal of gender from marriage? Forgiveness. The Church will not stop forgiving those who are caught in sexual sin, or any other sin. That means we must preach the Law to condemn that sin, but we will not stop preaching the Gospel to forgive it. That is what Peter was sent to do: as one who has been forgiven, Jesus sent him to extend forgiveness to other sinners. As Luther says, we are beggars telling other beggars where to find bread. The world is hoping we will stop forgiving; that we will move on to affirmation. But the Christian Church, and Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, will not stop forgiving sinners wherever we find them. We will seek out those who are caught in the devil’s kingdom and catch them with the same Word that caught us, the Word of forgiveness, declaring that Christ died for that sin as He died for all others. Do not be afraid to tell the world that the end to all fear has come.
Do not be afraid to make a stand on the Word of God, the Word which delivered to you forgiveness, life, and salvation. Do not be afraid of what this world will do to you when it finds that you will not submit quietly, that instead of affirmation you speak of forgiveness. Do not be afraid to leave all things behind; the Word is sufficient for you. “And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed Him.” You may lose friends and promotions; you will lose so-called ‘sexual freedom,’ but do not be afraid. Do not be afraid to confess the truth to a world caught in lies, to people caught in lies. Do not respond in hatred, but with the love of Christ; love your neighbor enough to call him from his life of sin. Peter himself teaches us how in our Epistle lesson. “Even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.” Be ready to make a confession in word and action; prepare yourself through the study of God’s Word, and then speak gently but boldly. Have no fear; your crucified Savior has risen to take away all fear. It is no mistake that His first words to His disciples on Easter evening are, “Peace be with you.” He has given you all things; His Word is sufficient for you, and so you say with the psalmist: “The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?”
Do you know why all of those companies flaunted the rainbow flag after the Supreme Court decision? They took that gamble because they believed that Christians wouldn’t be upset enough to give up the amenities they offered, to actually boycott stores or change credit cards. They are gambling that we will continue to be too enamored with what the world gives to take a stand, that the Word will not be sufficient for us. Do not be afraid. This world will demand much from you in the years to come because you stand against the tide, but the Word is sufficient for you, because the Word gives you everything: forgiveness, life, and salvation, won by the shed blood of Jesus Christ. He gives in abundance; boat-breaking abundance, and what He gives is far more than you will lose: “And take they our life, goods, fame, child, and wife, though these all be gone, our victory has been won; the Kingdom ours remaineth.” In the name of Jesus, Amen.
Trinity 2 (Luke 14:15-24)
“Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!” 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 fourteenth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Luke. Dear friends in Christ: the table is set, the food is prepared, the feast is ready. The King has left no detail to chance; He has carefully set all things in place. The preparations took time; in fact, Saint Paul tells us that the King has been preparing this feast since before the foundations of the world. With each generation, the time drew nearer, as the King protected His plan from every attack, making ready the way of salvation. And when the time had fully come, the King sent His Son, His only Son, whom He loved, into this world of sin and death; born of woman, born under the Law to redeem those under the Law. Jesus walked this earth in perfect obedience under His Father, the King. He preached the Word, He healed many, but His task, in accordance with all of the King’s preparations, was to die, and die He did. The perfect Son of the King hung upon the cross in the place of the King’s subjects; His sinless blood shed for the sin of the entire world. The King provided life for those in the bonds of death, He gave forgiveness and freedom to those in the shackles of sin by giving His Son into death and raising Him up on the third day.
Before He died, this Son of the King established the feast that had been an eternity in preparation. He took bread and said, “This is my Body, which is given for you,” and then He said as He gave the wine, “This cup is the new testament in my Blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sin.” He established the King’s feast with the words, “This do in remembrance of me.” This supper, the Lord’s Supper, the feast of the King, would be the very means by which everything that the Son had won through His death and resurrection would be given to sinful man. Not the only means, to be sure, but this was the King’s great and culminating gift: the feast of salvation, the medicine of immortality, the price of salvation given to sinners to eat and to drink. And now that the King has raised His Son from the grave, this feast is ready to be given to the world. The preparations, so long in coming, are now complete; the feast is prepared—nothing is left to be done! The table is set, the food is ready, and the gifts to be given in the eating and drinking have been won; all that is needed is guests, and so the messengers are sent forth.
Their message is one of joy: “Come, for everything is now ready!” The invitation should be no surprise; this coming feast had been proclaimed to the world through Moses and the prophets for centuries. None who heard these first invitations knew when the feast would be; they were simply told to be ready as the King made His preparations. Now, the table is set; all that the King promised for thousands of years, from the first man and woman on, has come to pass, and the feast of salvation is open to the world. And so the Church is sent into the world, to bring the invitation to one and all, to invite the vast multitudes that inhabit this earth to come to the King’s feast. ‘Come, for everything is now ready! Come, repent and be baptized into the crucified and risen Christ, be catechized in His Holy Word, be admitted to the Lord’s Table in faith. Eat your Savior’s Body, drink your Savior’s Blood, as the King graciously invites you to do. This is the food that gives eternal life, the only meal that forgives sin and defeats death. Those who eat and drink in faith will never die!’
It is with great joy and enthusiasm that the messengers of the King take this invitation into the world, and why not? They bring the answer to sin and death; the benefits of Christ’s own death and resurrection, given to eat and drink by those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. But there must not be much hunger and thirst, for the messengers who go forth with such joy are quickly discouraged. They bring the greatest invitation the world has ever known, but they are persecuted, they are even put to death, and they meet with those who would rather follow false gods or no god at all. But what is most frustrating to the messengers is the apathy and excuses that they find among so many, including those who will freely tell you they are Christians.
What they hear are the words of people who have many, many other things to do rather than come to the King’s feast. “I have bought a field, and I must go out and see it. Please have me excused.” “I have too much work to do at home to spend time at church.” “My money is my money, and all the church wants to talk about is getting my money.” “I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to examine them. Please have me excused.” “I work all week, and it’s just hard for me to get up early on my only morning to sleep in.” “Right now, life is too busy to be involved with the church, and I can be just as spiritual here at home.” “I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.” “My kids are on all of these sports teams, so I’m busy most Sundays.” “My husband won’t go, so it’s easier to stay home than to take the kids by myself.” Excuses are all they hear, one after another. Now, are work, or family, or property evil, sinful things in a person’s life? Certainly not, and each person has God-given responsibilities in those spheres. But what the messengers of the king find all too often is that these good gifts, these vocational responsibilities, keep people from coming to the feast, they become the basis for refusing the invitation. Those who are invited refuse the cost of coming to the feast; they would rather not give up the things of this life for the gifts of eternity.
The Word of God is a passing rain shower; those who make excuses expect that they can go to the King’s feast whenever it is convenient to them. But the King in His anger sends His messengers elsewhere. “Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame.” Those who were invited have arrogantly refused to come; they have much better things to do than partake of the feast of salvation, and so the messengers are sent to others. No longer do they invite the healthy, the strong, the rich, those who think much of themselves, but instead the invitation goes to those who are poor, meek, and downtrodden. The invitation goes to those whom good upstanding citizens don’t want to associate with: alcoholics, prostitutes, addicts of every kind. The invitation isn’t for them to remain in the bondage of their sin, but to receive at the feast the freedom of Christ’s victory over sin and death.
But the banquet hall is still not filled, and so the King sends forth His messengers to gather still more. “Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled.” The messengers invite the outcasts to the feast, those outside the city walls, those whom the world has rejected, who are looked down upon by those who make excuses and refuse to come to the feast themselves. The King knows that they will come reluctantly; He tells His messengers to ‘compel’ them. They, like those first invited, are hesitant to come to the feast, but for a much different reason. Those who make excuses refuse to come to the feast because they have other things to do; they arrogantly find many priorities more important than the King’s banquet. The poor and the downtrodden, on the other hand, are reluctant to come because they believe they are unworthy of such a gift; they know who they are, and they know who the king is, and they cannot believe themselves worthy to stand in His presence.
But it is precisely to the humble that the King wishes to show mercy and grace. They come to the feast as beggars, as outcasts, with hands open and empty, having nothing to give to the King but their sin. They come knowing their desperate need for what He gives at the feast of His Son’s Body and Blood. They are unworthy, they know it, and they are hesitant to come to the feast. ‘Will the King really accept me?’ they ask. ‘Doesn’t He know what I’ve done, who I am?’ But the messengers compel them; the feast is only for those who know they are nothing, for the King desires to show grace, love, and mercy to beggars. That is the kind of King that He is; whether you are rich or poor, powerful or weak, healthy or infirm in the eyes of the world, all who come to His feast come in humility, with nothing to give but everything to receive. And it is precisely at the feast that He gives them everything.
This feast was long prepared for sinners, not for the righteous, who have no need of repentance. As the Introit declares, “You save a humble people, but the haughty eyes you bring down.” This is why the messengers must first proclaim the Law, to teach sinners, to teach you and me, that we are nothing before the King, that we deserve none of His grace and mercy. But He gives it anyway, for that was His plan from the beginning. For sinners He sent His Son to suffer and die; for sinners He raised Him up again. For sinners He gives His Son’s Body and Blood in the Supper, bestowing forgiveness, life, and salvation in a miraculous meal. In humility, repent and understand that your greatest need is not more money, or a bigger house, or a trophy for your child, but rescue from sin, death, and the power of the devil. Give up the arrogance of thinking that anything in this life is more important than dining at the Lord’s Table by His gracious invitation.
For at this humble table, standing here in the midst of our sinful world, you partake of the eternal feast. This is the same banquet that we will celebrate in the new heavens and the new earth; when the King invites you to the earthly feast, He is inviting you to the heavenly one, too. At this table, we join with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!” Blessed indeed, for what we could not do the King has done in sending His Son, and He has compelled us through the call of the Gospel to partake of the feast, here in time and there in eternity. This is the Feast of victory for our God, our King, and the party will never end. In the Name of Jesus, the Son of the King, who is both host and meal, Amen.
Before He died, this Son of the King established the feast that had been an eternity in preparation. He took bread and said, “This is my Body, which is given for you,” and then He said as He gave the wine, “This cup is the new testament in my Blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sin.” He established the King’s feast with the words, “This do in remembrance of me.” This supper, the Lord’s Supper, the feast of the King, would be the very means by which everything that the Son had won through His death and resurrection would be given to sinful man. Not the only means, to be sure, but this was the King’s great and culminating gift: the feast of salvation, the medicine of immortality, the price of salvation given to sinners to eat and to drink. And now that the King has raised His Son from the grave, this feast is ready to be given to the world. The preparations, so long in coming, are now complete; the feast is prepared—nothing is left to be done! The table is set, the food is ready, and the gifts to be given in the eating and drinking have been won; all that is needed is guests, and so the messengers are sent forth.
Their message is one of joy: “Come, for everything is now ready!” The invitation should be no surprise; this coming feast had been proclaimed to the world through Moses and the prophets for centuries. None who heard these first invitations knew when the feast would be; they were simply told to be ready as the King made His preparations. Now, the table is set; all that the King promised for thousands of years, from the first man and woman on, has come to pass, and the feast of salvation is open to the world. And so the Church is sent into the world, to bring the invitation to one and all, to invite the vast multitudes that inhabit this earth to come to the King’s feast. ‘Come, for everything is now ready! Come, repent and be baptized into the crucified and risen Christ, be catechized in His Holy Word, be admitted to the Lord’s Table in faith. Eat your Savior’s Body, drink your Savior’s Blood, as the King graciously invites you to do. This is the food that gives eternal life, the only meal that forgives sin and defeats death. Those who eat and drink in faith will never die!’
It is with great joy and enthusiasm that the messengers of the King take this invitation into the world, and why not? They bring the answer to sin and death; the benefits of Christ’s own death and resurrection, given to eat and drink by those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. But there must not be much hunger and thirst, for the messengers who go forth with such joy are quickly discouraged. They bring the greatest invitation the world has ever known, but they are persecuted, they are even put to death, and they meet with those who would rather follow false gods or no god at all. But what is most frustrating to the messengers is the apathy and excuses that they find among so many, including those who will freely tell you they are Christians.
What they hear are the words of people who have many, many other things to do rather than come to the King’s feast. “I have bought a field, and I must go out and see it. Please have me excused.” “I have too much work to do at home to spend time at church.” “My money is my money, and all the church wants to talk about is getting my money.” “I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to examine them. Please have me excused.” “I work all week, and it’s just hard for me to get up early on my only morning to sleep in.” “Right now, life is too busy to be involved with the church, and I can be just as spiritual here at home.” “I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.” “My kids are on all of these sports teams, so I’m busy most Sundays.” “My husband won’t go, so it’s easier to stay home than to take the kids by myself.” Excuses are all they hear, one after another. Now, are work, or family, or property evil, sinful things in a person’s life? Certainly not, and each person has God-given responsibilities in those spheres. But what the messengers of the king find all too often is that these good gifts, these vocational responsibilities, keep people from coming to the feast, they become the basis for refusing the invitation. Those who are invited refuse the cost of coming to the feast; they would rather not give up the things of this life for the gifts of eternity.
The Word of God is a passing rain shower; those who make excuses expect that they can go to the King’s feast whenever it is convenient to them. But the King in His anger sends His messengers elsewhere. “Go out quickly to the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in the poor and crippled and blind and lame.” Those who were invited have arrogantly refused to come; they have much better things to do than partake of the feast of salvation, and so the messengers are sent to others. No longer do they invite the healthy, the strong, the rich, those who think much of themselves, but instead the invitation goes to those who are poor, meek, and downtrodden. The invitation goes to those whom good upstanding citizens don’t want to associate with: alcoholics, prostitutes, addicts of every kind. The invitation isn’t for them to remain in the bondage of their sin, but to receive at the feast the freedom of Christ’s victory over sin and death.
But the banquet hall is still not filled, and so the King sends forth His messengers to gather still more. “Go out to the highways and hedges and compel people to come in, that my house may be filled.” The messengers invite the outcasts to the feast, those outside the city walls, those whom the world has rejected, who are looked down upon by those who make excuses and refuse to come to the feast themselves. The King knows that they will come reluctantly; He tells His messengers to ‘compel’ them. They, like those first invited, are hesitant to come to the feast, but for a much different reason. Those who make excuses refuse to come to the feast because they have other things to do; they arrogantly find many priorities more important than the King’s banquet. The poor and the downtrodden, on the other hand, are reluctant to come because they believe they are unworthy of such a gift; they know who they are, and they know who the king is, and they cannot believe themselves worthy to stand in His presence.
But it is precisely to the humble that the King wishes to show mercy and grace. They come to the feast as beggars, as outcasts, with hands open and empty, having nothing to give to the King but their sin. They come knowing their desperate need for what He gives at the feast of His Son’s Body and Blood. They are unworthy, they know it, and they are hesitant to come to the feast. ‘Will the King really accept me?’ they ask. ‘Doesn’t He know what I’ve done, who I am?’ But the messengers compel them; the feast is only for those who know they are nothing, for the King desires to show grace, love, and mercy to beggars. That is the kind of King that He is; whether you are rich or poor, powerful or weak, healthy or infirm in the eyes of the world, all who come to His feast come in humility, with nothing to give but everything to receive. And it is precisely at the feast that He gives them everything.
This feast was long prepared for sinners, not for the righteous, who have no need of repentance. As the Introit declares, “You save a humble people, but the haughty eyes you bring down.” This is why the messengers must first proclaim the Law, to teach sinners, to teach you and me, that we are nothing before the King, that we deserve none of His grace and mercy. But He gives it anyway, for that was His plan from the beginning. For sinners He sent His Son to suffer and die; for sinners He raised Him up again. For sinners He gives His Son’s Body and Blood in the Supper, bestowing forgiveness, life, and salvation in a miraculous meal. In humility, repent and understand that your greatest need is not more money, or a bigger house, or a trophy for your child, but rescue from sin, death, and the power of the devil. Give up the arrogance of thinking that anything in this life is more important than dining at the Lord’s Table by His gracious invitation.
For at this humble table, standing here in the midst of our sinful world, you partake of the eternal feast. This is the same banquet that we will celebrate in the new heavens and the new earth; when the King invites you to the earthly feast, He is inviting you to the heavenly one, too. At this table, we join with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!” Blessed indeed, for what we could not do the King has done in sending His Son, and He has compelled us through the call of the Gospel to partake of the feast, here in time and there in eternity. This is the Feast of victory for our God, our King, and the party will never end. In the Name of Jesus, the Son of the King, who is both host and meal, Amen.
Friday, June 5, 2015
Holy Trinity (Isaiah 6:1-7)
“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!” 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, the continuing festival of the Holy Trinity, comes from the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the sixth chapter of the prophet Isaiah. Dear friends in Christ, Isaiah the priest stood before the altar of God, offering the required sacrifices. To human eyes, it seemed all too ordinary; a man in funny clothes, waving a bowl of incense about in a temple chamber lit by candlelight. Certainly the Scriptures declared that this was the very place where heaven touched earth, where God interacted with man in grace, but none of that was apparent to the human eye—at least not until this day. On this day, God destroyed the division between seen and unseen for a brief moment, showing Isaiah what the human eye cannot see as the sacrifices are offered. “In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord sitting upon the throne, high and lifted up; and the train of His robe filled the temple.”
He sees the Lord enthroned, high and lifted up, and the angelic host sings a song of praise: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!” Where heaven touches earth, Isaiah sees God, and he hears His identity proclaimed. They say ‘holy,’ not once, lest you should believe that there is but one; not twice, lest you should exclude the Spirit; they say not holies, lest you should imagine that there is plurality, but they repeat themselves three times and say the same word, that even in a hymn you may understand the distinction of Persons and the oneness of the godhead. Isaiah hears a summary of the Athanasian Creed as he sees the Triune God enthroned, and the seraphim declare that the whole earth is full of His glory.
But are they telling the truth? Is the whole earth really full of His glory? Heaven may be filled with glory, the glory of the Trinity, the glory that Isaiah sees, but does this same glory fill the earth? Isaiah knows, he sees the apostasy that lies heavy in the land. He sees the idolatry, the empty worship, he sees God’s very own people living in bondage to foreign gods while abandoning the One who delivered them from Egyptian slavery. In Israel, Jerusalem, and the temple itself he sees no glory, but evil, filth, and corruption. The people of God have given up the faith, and the enemies of God are circling, like hungry sharks smelling blood in the water.
Sound familiar? The headlines trumpet the newest findings of the Pew Forum report on the state of religion in America. The conclusion? Christianity in America is on its deathbed. The number of atheists in America has doubled since 2007; there are now more of them than any other non-Christian group in America. There are more unaffiliated Americans than Catholic Americans, and the unaffiliated are getting younger while Christianity gets older, and even the older generation is leaving Christianity behind. I’ll leave the worst for the last: the Pew Forum reports what many of you know from your own bitter experience: the son or daughter your raise as a Christian is increasingly more likely to leave the faith in adulthood. Christianity, with its moral compass, is collapsing, and its enemies are moving in for the kill. The whole earth is full of His glory? Not according to the headlines; there a different kind of glory is trumpeted. Our eyes see evil enthroned, not the Triune God, and what is left but to despair?
And Isaiah does despair; he has lost hope. “The foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke.” The sights and sounds declare total exclusion from the presence of God. The entrance to the heavenly throne room trembles, the smoke obscures the view, the cry of the seraphim declare that what God is man decidedly isn’t. The glory of the Triune God is a consuming fire, for the Lord is Holy, Holy, Holy, and the human heart—and everything connected to it—is completely and totally unholy. Isaiah sees the glory and knows that his heart is full of corruption. He doesn’t blame anyone else, he doesn’t accuse a political party or a social movement; He goes to the root of the problem—the human heart, more specifically, his own heart. God is Holy, Holy, Holy, and he is not. If you, I, or Isaiah were the only ones left on this planet, the earth would still stand corrupted by our sin, we would still be unholy. It is not Christianity as a religion that is at stake, but your own soul. “And I said, ‘Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
Isaiah confesses his un-holiness, his complete and total lack of that which defines the Triune God; it is quite appropriate that he be excluded from the temple, but Isaiah expects—and deserves—far worse. Eternal destruction is the penalty for the unholy; it’s easy for us to make light of God’s all-consuming holiness when we do not see His glory revealed with our own eyes, but Isaiah saw, he understood, and he despaired. Immediately God sprung into action. The sights and sounds of the heavenly throne room excluded Isaiah from the presence of God; now the sights and sounds open God’s presence to him. “Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: ‘Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.’” Isaiah is forgiven, cleansed, made holy; the consuming fire of the altar burns away his corruption. He has seen God, and he lives—only by God’s grace.
From now on he will hear from the Lord and speak the Word of God to His rebellious people. His lips have been cleansed, made holy so that he can preach. His eyes will not see God any longer; the vision will soon end. He will now not live by sight, but by faith, trusting, believing, proclaiming, that despite the corruption and evil his eyes see, the Triune God remains enthroned on high. He still preaches today. He fills your ears with the promise of Immanuel, the child who will be ‘God with us,’ born of a virgin to stand in your place as the suffering Servant, laying down His life as a ransom for many. Through this Jesus, not seen by your eyes but heard by your ears, God’s glory fills this fallen creation, it fills unholy human hearts. Your unclean flesh and soul is cleaned by Christ, who responds to your confession, your cry of despair, by bringing what He won on the altar of the cross to your lips. Not a burning coal, but a wafer, filled with His own holiness, for the bread is His Body, and a drink of wine, the Blood shed as Isaiah prophesized for the sin of the world. We trust not our eyes, we trust our ears, which hear Christ’s Word. “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” A splash of water, the words of a pastor; each humble earthly element set aside by Christ makes us holy, able to stand in the heavenly throne room forever. Because Christ died, as Isaiah preached, because Christ lives, as the apostles declare, the song of the seraphim is true: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!”
Centuries after Isaiah peered into the throne room of heaven, John the apostle stood before the altar of God, administering the Lord’s Supper. To human eyes, it seemed all too ordinary; a man standing on an island of exile, holding up bread and wine and speaking over them the words of Christ, as he had done hundreds of times. Certainly the Scriptures declared that in the Supper heaven touched earth, there God interacted with man in grace, but none of that was apparent to the human eye—at least not until this day. On this day, God destroyed the division between seen and unseen for a brief moment, showing John what the human eye cannot see as the Eucharist is celebrated. “At once I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne.”
He sees the Lord enthroned, high and lifted up, and the angelic host sings a song of praise: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” Where heaven touches earth, John sees God, and he hears His identity proclaimed. They say ‘holy,’ not once, lest you should believe that there is but one; not twice, lest you should exclude the Spirit; they say not holies, lest you should imagine that there is plurality, but they repeat themselves three times and say the same word, that even in a hymn you may understand the distinction of Persons and the oneness of the godhead. John hears a summary of the Athanasian Creed as he sees the Triune God enthroned, and the living creatures declare that the whole earth is full of His glory.
This is an article of faith, not sight, even for John, even for Isaiah. They received glimpses, but each spent the rest of their days walking in a world that appeared to be filled with evil, not the glory of God. But the vision sustained them, as it does us; it declares that the Triune God is enthroned, that He reigns, despite every appearance to the contrary. It is no wonder that we sing the song of heaven before we receive Christ’s Body and Blood; here, although hidden from human eyes, heaven touches earth; John’s vision shows us what our eyes do not see when we kneel at this altar: Christ enthroned and reigning as the Lamb who was slain. We do not trust our eyes, we trust our ears, and our ears tell us that the whole earth is full of God’s glory, that one day we will see with our own eyes this glory filling the heavens and the earth, the Day when Christ returns to make all things new. Until that day, we live by faith, not by sight, faith in the God who has made us holy, now and forever. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
He sees the Lord enthroned, high and lifted up, and the angelic host sings a song of praise: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!” Where heaven touches earth, Isaiah sees God, and he hears His identity proclaimed. They say ‘holy,’ not once, lest you should believe that there is but one; not twice, lest you should exclude the Spirit; they say not holies, lest you should imagine that there is plurality, but they repeat themselves three times and say the same word, that even in a hymn you may understand the distinction of Persons and the oneness of the godhead. Isaiah hears a summary of the Athanasian Creed as he sees the Triune God enthroned, and the seraphim declare that the whole earth is full of His glory.
But are they telling the truth? Is the whole earth really full of His glory? Heaven may be filled with glory, the glory of the Trinity, the glory that Isaiah sees, but does this same glory fill the earth? Isaiah knows, he sees the apostasy that lies heavy in the land. He sees the idolatry, the empty worship, he sees God’s very own people living in bondage to foreign gods while abandoning the One who delivered them from Egyptian slavery. In Israel, Jerusalem, and the temple itself he sees no glory, but evil, filth, and corruption. The people of God have given up the faith, and the enemies of God are circling, like hungry sharks smelling blood in the water.
Sound familiar? The headlines trumpet the newest findings of the Pew Forum report on the state of religion in America. The conclusion? Christianity in America is on its deathbed. The number of atheists in America has doubled since 2007; there are now more of them than any other non-Christian group in America. There are more unaffiliated Americans than Catholic Americans, and the unaffiliated are getting younger while Christianity gets older, and even the older generation is leaving Christianity behind. I’ll leave the worst for the last: the Pew Forum reports what many of you know from your own bitter experience: the son or daughter your raise as a Christian is increasingly more likely to leave the faith in adulthood. Christianity, with its moral compass, is collapsing, and its enemies are moving in for the kill. The whole earth is full of His glory? Not according to the headlines; there a different kind of glory is trumpeted. Our eyes see evil enthroned, not the Triune God, and what is left but to despair?
And Isaiah does despair; he has lost hope. “The foundations of the thresholds shook at the voice of him who called, and the house was filled with smoke.” The sights and sounds declare total exclusion from the presence of God. The entrance to the heavenly throne room trembles, the smoke obscures the view, the cry of the seraphim declare that what God is man decidedly isn’t. The glory of the Triune God is a consuming fire, for the Lord is Holy, Holy, Holy, and the human heart—and everything connected to it—is completely and totally unholy. Isaiah sees the glory and knows that his heart is full of corruption. He doesn’t blame anyone else, he doesn’t accuse a political party or a social movement; He goes to the root of the problem—the human heart, more specifically, his own heart. God is Holy, Holy, Holy, and he is not. If you, I, or Isaiah were the only ones left on this planet, the earth would still stand corrupted by our sin, we would still be unholy. It is not Christianity as a religion that is at stake, but your own soul. “And I said, ‘Woe is me! For I am lost; for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips; for my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
Isaiah confesses his un-holiness, his complete and total lack of that which defines the Triune God; it is quite appropriate that he be excluded from the temple, but Isaiah expects—and deserves—far worse. Eternal destruction is the penalty for the unholy; it’s easy for us to make light of God’s all-consuming holiness when we do not see His glory revealed with our own eyes, but Isaiah saw, he understood, and he despaired. Immediately God sprung into action. The sights and sounds of the heavenly throne room excluded Isaiah from the presence of God; now the sights and sounds open God’s presence to him. “Then one of the seraphim flew to me, having in his hand a burning coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. And he touched my mouth and said: ‘Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.’” Isaiah is forgiven, cleansed, made holy; the consuming fire of the altar burns away his corruption. He has seen God, and he lives—only by God’s grace.
From now on he will hear from the Lord and speak the Word of God to His rebellious people. His lips have been cleansed, made holy so that he can preach. His eyes will not see God any longer; the vision will soon end. He will now not live by sight, but by faith, trusting, believing, proclaiming, that despite the corruption and evil his eyes see, the Triune God remains enthroned on high. He still preaches today. He fills your ears with the promise of Immanuel, the child who will be ‘God with us,’ born of a virgin to stand in your place as the suffering Servant, laying down His life as a ransom for many. Through this Jesus, not seen by your eyes but heard by your ears, God’s glory fills this fallen creation, it fills unholy human hearts. Your unclean flesh and soul is cleaned by Christ, who responds to your confession, your cry of despair, by bringing what He won on the altar of the cross to your lips. Not a burning coal, but a wafer, filled with His own holiness, for the bread is His Body, and a drink of wine, the Blood shed as Isaiah prophesized for the sin of the world. We trust not our eyes, we trust our ears, which hear Christ’s Word. “Behold, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away, and your sin atoned for.” A splash of water, the words of a pastor; each humble earthly element set aside by Christ makes us holy, able to stand in the heavenly throne room forever. Because Christ died, as Isaiah preached, because Christ lives, as the apostles declare, the song of the seraphim is true: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of His glory!”
Centuries after Isaiah peered into the throne room of heaven, John the apostle stood before the altar of God, administering the Lord’s Supper. To human eyes, it seemed all too ordinary; a man standing on an island of exile, holding up bread and wine and speaking over them the words of Christ, as he had done hundreds of times. Certainly the Scriptures declared that in the Supper heaven touched earth, there God interacted with man in grace, but none of that was apparent to the human eye—at least not until this day. On this day, God destroyed the division between seen and unseen for a brief moment, showing John what the human eye cannot see as the Eucharist is celebrated. “At once I was in the Spirit, and behold, a throne stood in heaven, with one seated on the throne.”
He sees the Lord enthroned, high and lifted up, and the angelic host sings a song of praise: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come!” Where heaven touches earth, John sees God, and he hears His identity proclaimed. They say ‘holy,’ not once, lest you should believe that there is but one; not twice, lest you should exclude the Spirit; they say not holies, lest you should imagine that there is plurality, but they repeat themselves three times and say the same word, that even in a hymn you may understand the distinction of Persons and the oneness of the godhead. John hears a summary of the Athanasian Creed as he sees the Triune God enthroned, and the living creatures declare that the whole earth is full of His glory.
This is an article of faith, not sight, even for John, even for Isaiah. They received glimpses, but each spent the rest of their days walking in a world that appeared to be filled with evil, not the glory of God. But the vision sustained them, as it does us; it declares that the Triune God is enthroned, that He reigns, despite every appearance to the contrary. It is no wonder that we sing the song of heaven before we receive Christ’s Body and Blood; here, although hidden from human eyes, heaven touches earth; John’s vision shows us what our eyes do not see when we kneel at this altar: Christ enthroned and reigning as the Lamb who was slain. We do not trust our eyes, we trust our ears, and our ears tell us that the whole earth is full of God’s glory, that one day we will see with our own eyes this glory filling the heavens and the earth, the Day when Christ returns to make all things new. Until that day, we live by faith, not by sight, faith in the God who has made us holy, now and forever. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.
Friday, May 22, 2015
Seventh Sunday of Easter (Ezekiel 36:22-28)
“Therefore say to the house of Israel, Thus says the Lord God: It is not for your sake, O house of Israel, that I am about to act, but for the sake of my holy name, which you have profaned among the nations to which you came.” It is not for your sake that I will act, O people of God, it is not for your sake. I do not act in salvation because you are so worthy, because you are so righteous, because you are so special. There is nothing in you that makes you worth saving, that demands my action on your behalf. No, I do not act because your holiness compels me; quite the opposite. I act for the sake of my Name, I act for the sake of my promises, I act because I AM who I AM. Cast out any thoughts of entitlement, any ideas that you are worthy, any notion that I have to act because of how important you are. Those are the thoughts that doomed you to destruction in the first place, that made you unworthy, unholy, unrighteous. Do not demand salvation, but receive it as grace. My actions are not predicated on anything in you, but everything in me. I am love, I am compassion, I am mercy. It is because you are not entitled to anything that I give you everything, it is because you are unworthy that I make you worthy, it is because you are unholy and unrighteous that I act in salvation. I act for the sake of my Name, not for your sake; my holiness, my promises, will endure, and on the Last Day no one will ever doubt again that I AM who I AM, the God of salvation, that the One who created all things has now redeemed all things.
If I acted on the basis of the worthiness of human nature, I would never act, I would never save. You have forfeited any right to demand anything from me when your first parents tried to make themselves worthy on their own terms. “You shall have no other gods,” I taught Moses on Mount Sinai, and I wasn’t only referring to blocks of wood and stone. Your first idol is always yourself. “You will be like God,” the serpent said, and like your first parents, you believe him. You grasped after my throne and lost everything. My Name was upon you; you had everything, but you sullied that Name with your sin. So I cast you from the Garden into the wilderness, I placed creation itself under a curse, and death entered into the world I created to be abundantly filled with life. Cancer, heart disease, poverty, lost jobs, oppression, violence, tornadoes and floods; all of this came as a result of the sinfulness of man. And you cannot go back; Eden is barred to you.
You cannot save yourselves, though Satan would teach you otherwise. He who led you into sin in the first place now fancies himself a peddler of salvation, and you are still listening to his lying words. Great ladders are lifted up, trying to climb the walls of Eden: the ladder of morality, piling up good works to impress me, the ladder of reason, attempting to use knowledge to reach the heavens, and the ladder of mysticism, trying to reach me through an emotional connection. Each of these ladders ignores the barrier that stands between me and you: sin. Until your sin is removed, you cannot have fellowship with me; I am holy, you are not. You cannot remove that barrier, you cannot reach me on your own. You have defiled my Name through your sin, you have made my Name a sign of reproach among the nations. Your actions, tainted with sin, can do nothing; but I will act—not for your sake, but for the sake of my Name. “And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations and which you have profaned among them. And the nations will know that I am the Lord, declares the Lord God, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes.”
They will all know that I AM the Lord, the only God of heaven and earth, when through you, O my people, I vindicate my name. Not because you are worthy, not because you deserve it, but because I AM who I AM will I act. For the sake of my Name, which has been profaned among the nations, which is held in disrepute by all, I will act, I will save, I will bring you out of the wilderness and back into Eden. “I will take your from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land.” In the Day when I act, the nations will know that I AM the Lord, for I will act in salvation, I will deliver my people. You cannot act, so I will, according to my promise, not for your sake, but for the sake of my Name.
You cannot climb up to me, so I will come down to you; I will send my Son into the flesh to bear your sin. His coming will destroy every ladder, for by Him alone can anyone have access to me. In Him my justice is fulfilled, for I judge Him guilty for the sin of the world; He will allow Himself to be nailed to the cross in your place, bearing your sin, your defilement of my Name. He who bears my Name, who is God of God and Lord of Lords with me, will vindicate my Name, He will fulfill my justice, and through Him I will show mercy and love to the nations. Not because you are so worthy does He suffer and die, not because you are entitled to His redemption, but because you are unworthy and unrighteous does He give up His life into death for you. Not because you are clean but to make you clean does He suffer, not because your heart is healthy, but because it is hardened is He crucified. Through Jesus, my Son, all that you cannot do is done, and you are saved.
“I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you.” I cleanse you through the blood of my Son, purifying you from all the filth of sin that you have covered yourself with. Your idolatry, especially the idolatry of self, is washed away in the tide flowing from His pierced side. When you were brought to the font, I washed you in the blood of Jesus, sprinkling pure water upon you, the water joined with my Holy Word. You who were unworthy are now worthy, you who were unholy are now holy, you who were unclean are now clean. “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” Behold, I make all things new! Your sinful nature, your corrupt flesh, cannot be tamed, it cannot be reformed, it cannot be trained. Radical surgery is needed, and at the font, I perform it. Your heart of stone, a heart that stubbornly opposed me, is removed and cast away, and a new heart is put in its place, a heart that is united with me and will be forever, a heart that delights in me. “And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.” My Holy Spirit comes and dwells within you, and through Him you serve me by serving your neighbor. The scar tissue still remains, you will still struggle against your sinful nature, but the victory has been won, and the Holy Spirit dwells within you to daily put the old man to death through repentance and raise up the new man in faith.
And on the Last Day, even the scar tissue will be removed, as the radical surgery of your baptism is fulfilled in the resurrection of all flesh. On that Day I will fully vindicate my Name; on that Day “the nations will know that I am the Lord, declares the Lord God, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes.” The world despises my Name as my saints lay in the grave, defeated by death, as the world despised my Name when my Son rested in the tomb. But on that Day I will be vindicated, my Name will be exalted before all the peoples. For as my Son was raised up in victory, to the glory of my Name, so on that day the bodies of my saints will be raised up from the exile of death to live with me forever. “You shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers, and you shall be my people and I will be your God.” You were barred from Eden by your sin, but cleansed and restored to me, the new Eden will be yours for eternity, and there I will be your loving God, and you will be my beloved people.
It is not for your sake that I act; cling to these words of Gospel, O my people! If I waited until you were worthy to act, my Son wouldn’t have taken flesh, suffered, died, and rose again for you. But I act for the sake of my Name, for the sake of my promises. I promised salvation to your first parents, and I keep my promises, all of them; they are all ‘yes’ in Jesus, my Son. All of those promises became yours at the font, and I will fulfill them, I will bring you out of this wilderness of sin to the Promised Land of the new heavens and the new earth. You will be my people, and I will be your God, bearing my name in holiness, in worthiness, in righteousness, forever. Amen.
If I acted on the basis of the worthiness of human nature, I would never act, I would never save. You have forfeited any right to demand anything from me when your first parents tried to make themselves worthy on their own terms. “You shall have no other gods,” I taught Moses on Mount Sinai, and I wasn’t only referring to blocks of wood and stone. Your first idol is always yourself. “You will be like God,” the serpent said, and like your first parents, you believe him. You grasped after my throne and lost everything. My Name was upon you; you had everything, but you sullied that Name with your sin. So I cast you from the Garden into the wilderness, I placed creation itself under a curse, and death entered into the world I created to be abundantly filled with life. Cancer, heart disease, poverty, lost jobs, oppression, violence, tornadoes and floods; all of this came as a result of the sinfulness of man. And you cannot go back; Eden is barred to you.
You cannot save yourselves, though Satan would teach you otherwise. He who led you into sin in the first place now fancies himself a peddler of salvation, and you are still listening to his lying words. Great ladders are lifted up, trying to climb the walls of Eden: the ladder of morality, piling up good works to impress me, the ladder of reason, attempting to use knowledge to reach the heavens, and the ladder of mysticism, trying to reach me through an emotional connection. Each of these ladders ignores the barrier that stands between me and you: sin. Until your sin is removed, you cannot have fellowship with me; I am holy, you are not. You cannot remove that barrier, you cannot reach me on your own. You have defiled my Name through your sin, you have made my Name a sign of reproach among the nations. Your actions, tainted with sin, can do nothing; but I will act—not for your sake, but for the sake of my Name. “And I will vindicate the holiness of my great name, which has been profaned among the nations and which you have profaned among them. And the nations will know that I am the Lord, declares the Lord God, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes.”
They will all know that I AM the Lord, the only God of heaven and earth, when through you, O my people, I vindicate my name. Not because you are worthy, not because you deserve it, but because I AM who I AM will I act. For the sake of my Name, which has been profaned among the nations, which is held in disrepute by all, I will act, I will save, I will bring you out of the wilderness and back into Eden. “I will take your from the nations and gather you from all the countries and bring you into your own land.” In the Day when I act, the nations will know that I AM the Lord, for I will act in salvation, I will deliver my people. You cannot act, so I will, according to my promise, not for your sake, but for the sake of my Name.
You cannot climb up to me, so I will come down to you; I will send my Son into the flesh to bear your sin. His coming will destroy every ladder, for by Him alone can anyone have access to me. In Him my justice is fulfilled, for I judge Him guilty for the sin of the world; He will allow Himself to be nailed to the cross in your place, bearing your sin, your defilement of my Name. He who bears my Name, who is God of God and Lord of Lords with me, will vindicate my Name, He will fulfill my justice, and through Him I will show mercy and love to the nations. Not because you are so worthy does He suffer and die, not because you are entitled to His redemption, but because you are unworthy and unrighteous does He give up His life into death for you. Not because you are clean but to make you clean does He suffer, not because your heart is healthy, but because it is hardened is He crucified. Through Jesus, my Son, all that you cannot do is done, and you are saved.
“I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you.” I cleanse you through the blood of my Son, purifying you from all the filth of sin that you have covered yourself with. Your idolatry, especially the idolatry of self, is washed away in the tide flowing from His pierced side. When you were brought to the font, I washed you in the blood of Jesus, sprinkling pure water upon you, the water joined with my Holy Word. You who were unworthy are now worthy, you who were unholy are now holy, you who were unclean are now clean. “And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” Behold, I make all things new! Your sinful nature, your corrupt flesh, cannot be tamed, it cannot be reformed, it cannot be trained. Radical surgery is needed, and at the font, I perform it. Your heart of stone, a heart that stubbornly opposed me, is removed and cast away, and a new heart is put in its place, a heart that is united with me and will be forever, a heart that delights in me. “And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.” My Holy Spirit comes and dwells within you, and through Him you serve me by serving your neighbor. The scar tissue still remains, you will still struggle against your sinful nature, but the victory has been won, and the Holy Spirit dwells within you to daily put the old man to death through repentance and raise up the new man in faith.
And on the Last Day, even the scar tissue will be removed, as the radical surgery of your baptism is fulfilled in the resurrection of all flesh. On that Day I will fully vindicate my Name; on that Day “the nations will know that I am the Lord, declares the Lord God, when through you I vindicate my holiness before their eyes.” The world despises my Name as my saints lay in the grave, defeated by death, as the world despised my Name when my Son rested in the tomb. But on that Day I will be vindicated, my Name will be exalted before all the peoples. For as my Son was raised up in victory, to the glory of my Name, so on that day the bodies of my saints will be raised up from the exile of death to live with me forever. “You shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers, and you shall be my people and I will be your God.” You were barred from Eden by your sin, but cleansed and restored to me, the new Eden will be yours for eternity, and there I will be your loving God, and you will be my beloved people.
It is not for your sake that I act; cling to these words of Gospel, O my people! If I waited until you were worthy to act, my Son wouldn’t have taken flesh, suffered, died, and rose again for you. But I act for the sake of my Name, for the sake of my promises. I promised salvation to your first parents, and I keep my promises, all of them; they are all ‘yes’ in Jesus, my Son. All of those promises became yours at the font, and I will fulfill them, I will bring you out of this wilderness of sin to the Promised Land of the new heavens and the new earth. You will be my people, and I will be your God, bearing my name in holiness, in worthiness, in righteousness, forever. Amen.
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Seventh Sunday of Easter (John 15:26-16:4)
“But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, He will bear witness about 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 comes from the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of the Gospel according to Saint John. Dear friends in Christ: It was only a month ago when another video came out. Fifteen men, dressed in orange jumpsuits, standing on a beach in eastern Libya. Fifteen more men, similarly dressed, gathered in the desert of southern Libya. All died, as the gruesome video clearly demonstrated, all died, and the internet allowed ISIS to show it to the world. Martyrdoms are always public; that’s the point, to terrify us so that we do anything to avoid finding ourselves in an orange jumpsuit on a distant beach.
And admit it, you are at least a little bit terrified. That may be half a world away, but these thirty men were executed for confessing the same faith that you confess, the same faith that you were baptized into. They are horrifically put to death because they are Christians just like you. And you know that these terrorists won’t stop with killing in Libya, for they are motivated by much more than politics. “Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.”
The year was 1523. Two years earlier, Martin Luther had famously refused to recant his teachings before church and state at the Diet of Worms. That assembly declared Luther an outlaw, but he had powerful protectors, and he would eventually die in bed. Many of his followers were not so fortunate. In the Netherlands, Augustinian monks preached the Gospel Luther had recently brought to light. The authorities condemned them to death if they did not renounce what they had so recently confessed. All but three turned away from execution; one of the remainder was imprisoned, and the other two, Heinrich Voss and Johann Esch, were hauled before the authorities to be examined and put to death. When told that they had been led astray by Luther, Heinrich Voss boldly replied: “Yes, we were led astray by him, as were the Apostles led astray by Christ.” Both then died, burned at the stake in a crowded public square, the first to die as a result of Luther’s teaching. Martyrdoms are always public; that’s the point, to terrify us so that we do anything to avoid finding ourselves tied to a post with kindling under our feet.
And admit it, you are at least a little bit terrified. This may be almost five hundred years ago, but these two men were put to death for the same faith that you confess, the same faith that you were baptized into. We are certainly persecuted by atheists and by secular states, but the most violent hatred against Christians will come from ‘people of faith.’ “They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.” They will hate you, they will persecute you, they will even put you to death because they condemn your confession.
Don’t think for a moment that theology doesn’t matter; it certainly matters to the Muslim terrorist, as it mattered to those who tied two monks to stakes. Your confession will bring you suffering and persecution; ISIS kills some solely for political reasons, but it kills many more for theological reasons. Don’t be shocked, dear Christian friends, when the enemies of Christ take your confession seriously. We may think that we are safe here in America, but we forget that the most determined opponents of Christianity are those who think they are serving God with every Christian they put to death. “Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.”
This is the faith that we baptize our children into; the same faith that led two monks to be tied to stakes, the same faith that led thirty men to orange jumpsuits and internet videos. When I pour water over a child’s head in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, that child has become an enemy of ISIS and every other terrorist, an enemy of this world and Satan its lord. What we confess here in the Apostles’ or Nicene Creed, what we teach in the Small Catechism, has consequences. It could mean your death, and it has meant the death of so many others throughout history. What we do and say in this place is deadly serious. We are confessing in the face of a hostile world, and the world may demand everything, even our lives, from us as a consequence. Jesus wants no one to be taken by surprise, to be shocked when persecution comes. “I have said all these things to you to keep you from falling away.” Jesus doesn’t want His Christians to idolize life at the cost of their faith; there are far worse things than death, as all the martyrs throughout history clearly understood.
The year was 155. The worship of the Roman emperor, already hinted at in the book of Revelation, was at its height, and all were forced to participate. In the city of Smyrna in modern Turkey the Romans arrested one who didn’t, a bishop named Polycarp. Before his rulers he refused to acknowledge Caesar as Lord or offer incense to the emperor. In the stadium, he was commanded to curse other condemned Christians, but he would not. Finally, his executors called on the old man to simply renounce Christ and be spared death. If he only said the words, he could save his own life. He replied: “Eighty-six years I have served Him and He has done to me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who has saved me?” He stood firm, and was put to death by fire and knife in the crowded stadium. Martyrdoms are always public; that’s the point, to terrify us so that we do anything to avoid finding ourselves facing the wild beasts, the fire, and the sword of the arena.
And admit it, you are at least a little bit terrified. This may be the earliest days of the Church, but Polycarp was executed for the same faith that you confess, the same faith that you were baptized into. Had he renounced Christ, he could’ve died peacefully in bed. The world certainly has its own comforts to offer, and it gives those comforts to those who renounce Jesus, while putting to death those who confess His Name. “They will do these things because they have not known the Father, nor me.” They think they are serving God, but their lord is not the true God, instead he is the lord of this world, the devil. A Christian does not idolize life; there are fates worse than death, for the comfort this world promises is fleeting, it will quickly fade away.
The comfort Christ gives, on the other hand, is eternal. “But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, He will bear witness about me.” The Christian does not idolize life, because the Christian knows that worse than death is death without Christ. It was this conviction that led thirty men to steadfastly face death in the sands of Libya, that led Heinrich Voss and Johann Esch to refuse to renounce the Gospel, that led Polycarp to turn down numerous opportunities to escape martyrdom by denying Jesus. They had been given a comfort, a Comforter that bore witness about Christ to them in the midst of their persecutions, as they faced death itself by the hand of persecutors. The Holy Spirit comes for this very purpose: to point you to Christ as you face a world that seeks your life. Jesus sends Him to you from the Father to bear witness to Himself, and that, dear friends in Christ, is the true comfort you need in a world that hates you.
The world’s comfort is that suffering can be avoided by renouncing Christ; the Holy Spirit’s comfort is that any suffering this world brings is only temporary, not worth comparing to the eternity of joy that awaits the believer through Christ. The Holy Spirit’s comfort is that the Jesus you are baptized into, the Jesus you have baptized your children into, the Jesus you confess each and every Sunday, this Jesus overcomes the world. The Holy Spirit’s comfort is that those who persecute you while claiming to serve God are only serving Satan; their comfort is temporary, while His is eternal. The Holy Spirit’s comfort, in short, is Christ. The Spirit of truth witnesses to Christ, He points to Christ, He speaks only of Christ, because only Christ has triumphed over this world, once and for all.
The year was 33. The religious leaders of the Jews, having sparred with this Jesus for three long years, have finally cornered Him, they have Him right where they want Him. In the darkness of night, He is condemned of blasphemy, and in the early morning hours, before a hostile crowd, He is sent to bear the cross. “They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.” He is cast out from His people, those to whom He was sent, and they put Him to death as a service to God. He is mocked, called upon to come down from the tree, but instead, He gives up His life willingly into death: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” And there, on a hill called Golgotha, surrounded by His enemies, the Son of God breathed His last. Martyrdoms are always public; that’s the point, to terrify us so that we do anything to avoid finding ourselves hanging upon a cross.
But you are not terrified by the cross, for it is here that the Holy Spirit points you in the midst of affliction and persecution; it is this cross alone that gives you comfort. For upon that cross Jesus is overcoming the world, upon that cross Jesus is winning the victory, upon that cross Jesus is bringing to you a comfort that endures no matter what this world does to you. How do you know? The Holy Spirit witnesses, He testifies to you through the apostles that Christ is risen, that He has overcome death and the grave in your place, that He is now seated at the right hand of the throne of power. “I have said these things to you, that when their hour comes you may remember that I told them to you.” The Holy Spirit comes to bring us Jesus, so that we remember His Words, so that we remember His cross and empty tomb. This is the victory cry that overcomes the world, this is the victory cry that brings us true comfort as we wait, as we face the same hostile world our ancestors in the faith did: Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen.
And admit it, you are at least a little bit terrified. That may be half a world away, but these thirty men were executed for confessing the same faith that you confess, the same faith that you were baptized into. They are horrifically put to death because they are Christians just like you. And you know that these terrorists won’t stop with killing in Libya, for they are motivated by much more than politics. “Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.”
The year was 1523. Two years earlier, Martin Luther had famously refused to recant his teachings before church and state at the Diet of Worms. That assembly declared Luther an outlaw, but he had powerful protectors, and he would eventually die in bed. Many of his followers were not so fortunate. In the Netherlands, Augustinian monks preached the Gospel Luther had recently brought to light. The authorities condemned them to death if they did not renounce what they had so recently confessed. All but three turned away from execution; one of the remainder was imprisoned, and the other two, Heinrich Voss and Johann Esch, were hauled before the authorities to be examined and put to death. When told that they had been led astray by Luther, Heinrich Voss boldly replied: “Yes, we were led astray by him, as were the Apostles led astray by Christ.” Both then died, burned at the stake in a crowded public square, the first to die as a result of Luther’s teaching. Martyrdoms are always public; that’s the point, to terrify us so that we do anything to avoid finding ourselves tied to a post with kindling under our feet.
And admit it, you are at least a little bit terrified. This may be almost five hundred years ago, but these two men were put to death for the same faith that you confess, the same faith that you were baptized into. We are certainly persecuted by atheists and by secular states, but the most violent hatred against Christians will come from ‘people of faith.’ “They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.” They will hate you, they will persecute you, they will even put you to death because they condemn your confession.
Don’t think for a moment that theology doesn’t matter; it certainly matters to the Muslim terrorist, as it mattered to those who tied two monks to stakes. Your confession will bring you suffering and persecution; ISIS kills some solely for political reasons, but it kills many more for theological reasons. Don’t be shocked, dear Christian friends, when the enemies of Christ take your confession seriously. We may think that we are safe here in America, but we forget that the most determined opponents of Christianity are those who think they are serving God with every Christian they put to death. “Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.”
This is the faith that we baptize our children into; the same faith that led two monks to be tied to stakes, the same faith that led thirty men to orange jumpsuits and internet videos. When I pour water over a child’s head in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, that child has become an enemy of ISIS and every other terrorist, an enemy of this world and Satan its lord. What we confess here in the Apostles’ or Nicene Creed, what we teach in the Small Catechism, has consequences. It could mean your death, and it has meant the death of so many others throughout history. What we do and say in this place is deadly serious. We are confessing in the face of a hostile world, and the world may demand everything, even our lives, from us as a consequence. Jesus wants no one to be taken by surprise, to be shocked when persecution comes. “I have said all these things to you to keep you from falling away.” Jesus doesn’t want His Christians to idolize life at the cost of their faith; there are far worse things than death, as all the martyrs throughout history clearly understood.
The year was 155. The worship of the Roman emperor, already hinted at in the book of Revelation, was at its height, and all were forced to participate. In the city of Smyrna in modern Turkey the Romans arrested one who didn’t, a bishop named Polycarp. Before his rulers he refused to acknowledge Caesar as Lord or offer incense to the emperor. In the stadium, he was commanded to curse other condemned Christians, but he would not. Finally, his executors called on the old man to simply renounce Christ and be spared death. If he only said the words, he could save his own life. He replied: “Eighty-six years I have served Him and He has done to me no wrong. How can I blaspheme my King who has saved me?” He stood firm, and was put to death by fire and knife in the crowded stadium. Martyrdoms are always public; that’s the point, to terrify us so that we do anything to avoid finding ourselves facing the wild beasts, the fire, and the sword of the arena.
And admit it, you are at least a little bit terrified. This may be the earliest days of the Church, but Polycarp was executed for the same faith that you confess, the same faith that you were baptized into. Had he renounced Christ, he could’ve died peacefully in bed. The world certainly has its own comforts to offer, and it gives those comforts to those who renounce Jesus, while putting to death those who confess His Name. “They will do these things because they have not known the Father, nor me.” They think they are serving God, but their lord is not the true God, instead he is the lord of this world, the devil. A Christian does not idolize life; there are fates worse than death, for the comfort this world promises is fleeting, it will quickly fade away.
The comfort Christ gives, on the other hand, is eternal. “But when the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, He will bear witness about me.” The Christian does not idolize life, because the Christian knows that worse than death is death without Christ. It was this conviction that led thirty men to steadfastly face death in the sands of Libya, that led Heinrich Voss and Johann Esch to refuse to renounce the Gospel, that led Polycarp to turn down numerous opportunities to escape martyrdom by denying Jesus. They had been given a comfort, a Comforter that bore witness about Christ to them in the midst of their persecutions, as they faced death itself by the hand of persecutors. The Holy Spirit comes for this very purpose: to point you to Christ as you face a world that seeks your life. Jesus sends Him to you from the Father to bear witness to Himself, and that, dear friends in Christ, is the true comfort you need in a world that hates you.
The world’s comfort is that suffering can be avoided by renouncing Christ; the Holy Spirit’s comfort is that any suffering this world brings is only temporary, not worth comparing to the eternity of joy that awaits the believer through Christ. The Holy Spirit’s comfort is that the Jesus you are baptized into, the Jesus you have baptized your children into, the Jesus you confess each and every Sunday, this Jesus overcomes the world. The Holy Spirit’s comfort is that those who persecute you while claiming to serve God are only serving Satan; their comfort is temporary, while His is eternal. The Holy Spirit’s comfort, in short, is Christ. The Spirit of truth witnesses to Christ, He points to Christ, He speaks only of Christ, because only Christ has triumphed over this world, once and for all.
The year was 33. The religious leaders of the Jews, having sparred with this Jesus for three long years, have finally cornered Him, they have Him right where they want Him. In the darkness of night, He is condemned of blasphemy, and in the early morning hours, before a hostile crowd, He is sent to bear the cross. “They will put you out of the synagogues. Indeed, the hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God.” He is cast out from His people, those to whom He was sent, and they put Him to death as a service to God. He is mocked, called upon to come down from the tree, but instead, He gives up His life willingly into death: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” And there, on a hill called Golgotha, surrounded by His enemies, the Son of God breathed His last. Martyrdoms are always public; that’s the point, to terrify us so that we do anything to avoid finding ourselves hanging upon a cross.
But you are not terrified by the cross, for it is here that the Holy Spirit points you in the midst of affliction and persecution; it is this cross alone that gives you comfort. For upon that cross Jesus is overcoming the world, upon that cross Jesus is winning the victory, upon that cross Jesus is bringing to you a comfort that endures no matter what this world does to you. How do you know? The Holy Spirit witnesses, He testifies to you through the apostles that Christ is risen, that He has overcome death and the grave in your place, that He is now seated at the right hand of the throne of power. “I have said these things to you, that when their hour comes you may remember that I told them to you.” The Holy Spirit comes to bring us Jesus, so that we remember His Words, so that we remember His cross and empty tomb. This is the victory cry that overcomes the world, this is the victory cry that brings us true comfort as we wait, as we face the same hostile world our ancestors in the faith did: Alleluia, Christ is risen! He is risen indeed, Alleluia, Amen.
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