Final Week of Capital Campaign (Malachi 3:6-12)

“I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this evening comes from the Old Testament lesson read a few moments ago from the third chapter of the prophet Malachi. Dear friends in Christ, our world is a world of constant change. Nothing stays the same. Every day is a picture of change, as light fills the darkened sky, only to give way to darkness once again. The cold of winter changes to the heat of summer and back again. You grow and develop from a zygote to an embryo to a fetus to a baby to a child to an adult; you never stay the same. Governments rise and fall, civilizations crumble as quickly as they ascended. People change, and not just physically. We are fickle, we are pushed back and forth by the wind, we spurn old friendships, we give up on former loves, we switch opinions either on the basis of better information or simply because of feelings. The ancients believed that tier gods were as changeable as man, that you couldn’t trust them, only hope to placate them, to earn some favor, with gifts and offerings. But not the God of Israel. In the midst of a raging sea of change, where absolutely nothing stays the same for even a moment, stands the declaration of our Creator: “I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.” Everything changes but the One who created it all; He is steadfast, immovable, impervious to change.

And this unchanging God has an accusation to make against His people, to make against you and me. “From the days of your fathers you have turned aside from my statutes and have not kept them. Return to me, and I will return to you, says the Lord of hosts.” The unchangeable God accuses us of changing, of rebelling against Him even though we bear His Name upon us. How have we done this? He could certainly come up with quite a list, but God has one specific accusation to make tonight. “You say, ‘How shall we return?’ Will man rob God? Yet you are robbing me. But you say, ‘How have we robbed you?’ In your tithes and contributions.” God accuses us of robbing Him, of holding back from Him our tithes and contributions. This has nothing to do with a percentage, with dollar signs or a budget, it has to do with selfishness, with coveting, with idolatry. It has to do with giving God the leftovers, with holding back from serving His Church or our neighbors. It ultimately comes down to trust. We do not trust God’s promises to provide for our every need, and so we hold back, we keep more for ourselves; we give grudgingly, if we give at all. We think that God is like us, changing, fickle, that He might not give tomorrow what He promised to give today.

Repent! Repent, for God does not change; He has promised wrath against sin and rebellion, and His justice will be satisfied. “You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing me, the whole nation of you. Bring the full tithes into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house.” Greedily holding onto what God has entrusted us with, instead of using it for the good of our neighbor and the good of His Kingdom—God calls this robbery. It is taking what doesn’t belong to us and using it for our own gain. It is misusing what has been given so that it only benefits ourselves. A God of justice cannot simply look away; He cannot pretend that it didn’t happen, or that it doesn’t matter. “You are cursed with a curse, for you are robbing me, the whole nation of you.” A curse is placed upon God’s rebellious people, the curse of His wrath against sin. A God of justice cannot allow sin to remain unpunished; He does not change: His wrath must be poured out—Repent! “Return to me, and I will return to you, says the Lord of hosts.”

Everything in this world changes, including sinful man, including you and me; and in the midst of the whirlwind stands God’s Law, steadfast, immovable, declaring a curse upon sinners. But God’s Law is not the only pillar in the storm. Equally steadfast and immovable is God’s love, care, and compassion for His fallen humanity, for you and for me. A God of justice must punish sin with His wrath. A God of love cannot allow His beloved to perish eternally. The easiest solution for us would be to compromise, to change; but God does not change. He does not change His justice; He does not change His love. Instead, His justice and love, the two pillars of His very nature, come together to form a cross. Upon the cross His justice is satisfied, as His wrath is poured out against every sin that has ever been committed, against your every sin. But upon the cross His love is shown, for that wrath falls upon Christ, your substitute, who sheds His holy, precious blood in your place. God does not change; His love doesn’t somehow ‘cancel’ His wrath, but He loves us by pouring that wrath out upon another. Christ Jesus stood in your place, He willingly bore the curse; He was treated as the One who had robbed God, though He had done no wrong. His suffering was for your sin; His death was in your place. And as He died in your place, so He rose in your place, and your resurrection is guaranteed. In love He showers forth His abundant grace upon you; He forgives you for greed, for idolatry, for robbery, His shed blood covers each and every sin. You are forgiven! His love for you stands as a pillar, your solid rock, forever. “I the Lord do not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed.”

You are not consumed because His love toward you has never changed, and it never will change. You have been changed: into His beloved child, a chosen member of His people, His Church, His flock. His goodness toward you will never change, you can rest secure in His provision, you can even put Him to the test. “Bring the full tithes into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. And thereby put me to the test, says the Lord of hosts, if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you a blessing until there is no more need.” This is the only place in the Scriptures where God calls on His people put Him to the test. He challenges His flock to step out in faith, to give freely from their bounty. We are to put our God to the test, giving deliberately, deciding in our hearts beforehand what we are going to give; giving generously, turning over to Him our first-fruits in faith, putting Him to the test that He will provide the rest; and giving cheerfully, in the freedom that comes from His unchanging Gospel. We rest in this stability; He is not fickle, He is not capricious, He is not changing; He is the same today, yesterday, and forever, His abundance has no end, and you have a sure and certain hope in Him. He has set you free, free from the bondage of sin, free to serve your neighbor and free to support the work of the Church. We love our neighbor not according to the bondage of the Law, but in the freedom of the Gospel. You are free, free in Christ, free from greed, from idolatry, from selfishness, free to live in His grace forever, for your God does not change, His Gospel stands forever.

This world is constantly shifting, constantly moving, constantly changing. Some changes excite, some terrify; some changes build up, some tear down. But in the midst of the changes and chances of life stands your God, the Lord who is your Shepherd. His cross is the pivot on which history turns, it is the one rock in the midst of the raging river. No matter whether you face plenty or hunger, abundance or need, this promise remains firm: “I will rebuke the devourer for you, so that it will not destroy the fruits of your soul, and your vine in the field shall not fail to bear, says the Lord of hosts. Then all nations will call you blessed, for you will be a land of delight, says the Lord of hosts.” This promise is true whether you wallet is full or not, whether you face joy or sorrow, whether you endure disease or enjoy health. Whether you are brought low or abound, all nations will call you blessed, because Jesus does not change, and He has promised to raise you on the Last Day, you have eternal treasure to your name that no joy or sorrow of this world can take away. You are blessed, for your sins are forgiven, you are baptized into His Name, your lips receive His very Body and Blood. Jesus does not change, even if the circumstances of your life do; He remains faithful, and He will be faithful until the end. His cross and its verdict stand for eternity; they will never change, and therefore you, O flock, are not consumed, therefore you, O flock, are free. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.

Final Sunday of Capital Campaign (Psalm 23)

“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want.” 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 sixth and final Sunday of our capital campaign comes from the Introit we chanted together at the beginning of our service, Psalm twenty-three. Dear friends in Christ: What kind of God do you have? You live in the wilderness, in the desert, in the wasteland of this sinful world; what kind of God do you have? You are a sheep, harassed and helpless, threatened by enemies on every side; what kind of God do you have? You are on a journey, trying to reach a destination that always seems further ahead; what kind of God do you have? The answer to this question is vitally important; in fact, the answer to this question is literally life or death. The wilderness is unforgiving; it will chew up and spit back out those who are unprepared, those without protection. Sheep in the wilderness are easy prey to the enemies that gather around them. The kind of God that you have will determine whether you journey with confidence or with fear. And make no mistake, the sheep are watching each other, each one seeking the best path through the wilderness, each one asking the other: what kind of God do you have?

How do you answer? What kind of God do you have? What do your eyes see? Your eyes see scarcity, they see lack, they see need. Your eyes see a world where no one has enough, where poverty is quite real. Your eyes see food stamps and soup kitchens, they see dilapidated housing and worn out clothing. Your eyes see the price of everything going up, and they look at your paycheck with hope, only to realize that it has stayed the same. Your eyes look at your own bank account, and they see just barely enough; they look at your budget, and they see far too much red, and then you look in your bulletin and see the same at your church. Your eyes see the reality of the wilderness, the scarcity of the wasteland, and worry and fear is the result. You cling tighter to what you think is your own; your own time, your own possessions, your own money. Fear and worry drive you to hold back when the offering plate comes around, they tighten your fist when your neighbors have needs, they cause congregations to bunker down and think only of themselves. Your eyes see all that is aligned against you, and you live in fear; your life is not lived in confidence, in trust, in hope, but in worry. The wilderness stands against you, and it mocks you, asking, “What kind of God do you have?”

What kind of God do you have? What do your eyes see? Your eyes see the difficulty of your road through this wilderness, they see that it is fraught with dangers each and every step of the way. Your eyes see suffering, suffering everywhere, suffering that you know will someday affect you, suffering that is already affecting you. They see cancer, they see Alzheimer’s and dementia, they see congestive heart failure and auto-immune diseases, they see a whole host of other afflictions and maladies with hundreds of different names. They see loved ones suffering, they see your suffering, they see a world filled with suffering; your eyes watch the evening news and they are overwhelmed by the pain that fills every nook and cranny of the wasteland. And finally, your eyes see death. How can they avoid it? Death is all around us in the wilderness, as the bleached bones of other sheep remind us that no one escapes the wasteland alive.

Your eyes see that this journey cannot be completed on your own; the road is too hard, too winding, too dangerous. Your eyes see death and proclaim to you that the journey is futile, for there is no hope. As a natural sheep cannot survive on its own in the desert, so you know that you cannot make it by yourself. The wilderness will grind you up, it will finally destroy you; you will simply wander in the desert until death takes you, until you become another statistic of the wasteland. Your eyes can give you only worry, only fear, only despair. They present to you a picture so bleak it is terrifying, and they can see no hope of escape. You cry out in despair: “What kind of God do I have?”

Don’t trust your eyes. They tell you of a God who has left you to be destroyed by the wilderness, a God who is holding back His goodness, but they are wrong. Don’t trust your eyes; trust your ears. Close your eyes and listen. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” What kind of God do you have? You have a God who is your shepherd, and you shall not want. Your ears hear of a God who walks with you in the wilderness, who leads and guides you through that wilderness to the Promised Land. You have a God who walked this path Himself, who journeyed in the wilderness in your place, even unto death. You have a God who said, “I AM the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep.” He laid down His life, pouring out His blood, to defeat the wilderness, to deliver lost sheep from the corruption, the scarcity, the death of the wilderness. He paid the price for the sin that makes the wilderness so harsh, that gives the wasteland its power. And when He rose on the third day, He stepped forth from the grave as the Good Shepherd, seeking out lost sheep, finding them in mercy, and guiding them to the Promised Land He has won for His beloved flock, refreshing them on their journey, bearing them to their destination, not by their strength, but only through His.

“He makes me lie down in green pastures. He leads me beside still waters.” He feeds you on the green pastures of His Word, He nourishes you in the still, life-giving waters of Baptism. This sanctuary is an oasis, where you are refreshed on your journey, strengthened for the road ahead. “You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.” Your enemies are all around you, but you need not fear; His table, the feast of His Body and Blood gives forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation. They cannot take what this feast gives. In this place, your ears hear of His death and resurrection, here “He restores my soul.” He restores your soul by forgiving your sins, by making you holy, righteous in God’s sight by applying His death and resurrection directly to you in the Means of Grace: by grazing you on the green pastures of the Word, by washing you in the still waters of Baptism, and by feeding you at table of His Body and Blood. 

Your ears hear the Good Shepherd’s voice, guiding you through the wilderness. “He leads me in paths of righteousness for His Name’s sake. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” Death no longer threatens you, because you belong to the Good Shepherd, who laid down His life for the sheep only to take it up again in victory. Your path through the wilderness is carved by the cross, it is watered by His shed blood. This path is His righteousness, given to you, covering you like a robe so that your enemies cannot deter you from your destination. The sheep know their Shepherd’s voice, and it leads them home; neither scarcity nor disaster, neither disease nor any enemy, will be able to keep you from your destination, from the Promised Land that awaits you.

What kind of God do you have? Your ears hear that there is no want, that this God, this Shepherd has given to you all that you need. “You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.” He who has given up His own life for His sheep, to give to them an eternal treasure that will never fade away, certainly provides all good things out of His bountiful goodness. Goodness and mercy pursue you, they chase after you all of your days, because you have a God of abundance, a God who delights to give. Your ears hear God’s promises, and you live in faith, no longer in fear or worry. 

With Saint Paul, you can face any and all situations with confidence. “In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” We, too, can do all things, even sacrificially give of ourselves and our resources for the good of Christ’s kingdom, even serve our neighbor in his every need, even boldly pursue the Lord’s work as a congregation, because the Lord is our Shepherd. We do not live in fear, for the Lord is our Shepherd, and in Him, there is no more want, no more scarcity; He will provide according to His good and gracious will. What do we have to worry about? God takes care of the humblest creatures of this earth; He will surely care for His people in His own way, as Christ Himself says: “Do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them.”

What kind of God do you have? Your God is Jesus, the Good Shepherd, who took on human flesh, who became one of the sheep, in fact a Lamb without blemish, to give up His life for the sheep. Your eyes see scarcity and need; your ears hear of green pastures and overflowing cups. Your eyes see suffering and death; your ears hear of victory and eternal life, the Promised Land that awaits you. We live by faith, by what our ears hear, not by what our eyes see. And what our ears hear is what David delights to proclaim: “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want… Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

This is the God you will have for eternity. The Lord is your Shepherd, and He will send goodness and mercy to pursue you for the rest of your days, until you dwell in His house for eternity. As your ears heard last week: “The Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their Shepherd, and He will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” The wilderness cannot overwhelm you, because it doesn’t have the victory. What kind of God do you have? The God who defeated the wilderness, who leads you through it, who gives you confidence even in the valley of the shadow of death, for His rod has crushed death’s power, His staff will drive away the wolves. The Lord is your Shepherd, you shall not want. Amen.

Reformation (Romans 3:19-28)

“There is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is 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 comes from the Epistle lesson read a few moments ago from the third chapter of Paul’s letter to the Church of God in Rome. Dear friends in Christ, the medieval church was noisy. You heard the sound of prayers and masses, offered to God and to the saints, seeking favor, seeking protection, seeking merit. You heard the voice of the indulgence preacher, marketing his wares, offering deliverance from purgatory for a few coins. In Rome, the monk Martin Luther heard the sound of hundreds of pilgrims climbing the stairs, saying ‘Our Fathers’ and ‘Hail Marys’ on every step. And you heard people constantly chattering, to each other and to their God, telling all who would hear about what they have done for their Creator. That is what you must do, if you believe that you are justified, made right before God by what you do. The heart that believes it is justified by works is always talking, always telling God what it has done, always making comparisons, contrasting itself with those around it. Any sinner can look better when he finds someone more wicked than himself.

You and I are little different; we are as noisy as a flock of blackbirds, chattering to God, chattering to each other. We make comparisons, we make distinctions, between ‘us’ and ‘them,’ between we ‘good church people’ and the ones who dwell outside of these walls. We love to compare ourselves to others, especially when the comparison shows that we are the saint, when we are given the opportunity to show that someone else is the sinner. Sure, I’m not perfect, but I’m certainly not as bad as her! In pride, we brag about our good deeds, we bring them before others, we hold them up before God, hoping that He will be pleased. Our comfort at the time of death is ‘I’ve lived a good life,’ something we need to tell ourselves constantly so that we just might believe it.

God hears our chatter, our boasting, our distinctions, and He has one thing to say: Be quiet! Be quiet. “Now we know that whatever the Law says it speaks to those who are under the Law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God.” The Law of God stops all this foolish chatter; it silences mouths that love to run down others and exalt themselves. Be quiet! Quit boasting in your works; the Law declares that no good work is good enough to overcome sin. “By works of the Law no human being will be justified in His sight, since through the Law comes knowledge of sin.” You thought that the Law could justify you, that it was the path to bring you to God. But that was a false, misleading dream. The Law can never bring you near to your Creator, because you cannot keep it. Through the Law comes knowledge of sin; the Law is meant to condemn you, to proclaim the opposite message: there is no distinction, all flesh stands condemned, separated from God forever.

You and I chatter to God and man, making distinctions, making comparisons, thinking that somehow our Creator is working with a sliding scale, that we can justify ourselves in His sight. God speaks in His Law, making no distinction, condemning all. “Now we know that whatever the Law says it speaks to those who are under the Law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God.” Every mouth is stopped. The whole world stands accountable to God. That is the truth that the thunder of God’s Law declares. You are not good enough for God; you are not holy enough, you are not righteous enough, you are not perfect enough. You are unworthy of your Creator, no matter how much worse your neighbor appears, his condemnation is your condemnation. Be quiet. Shut your mouth. Quit chattering, quit talking, and listen. God’s Law demands absolute perfection, each and every day, and you have fallen far, far short. You are a sinner, and you are accountable to God for that sin.

You have no defense, the Law has stripped away every excuse, every apology, every attempt at self-justification. When the Law speaks in all of its fury, we have no choice but to shut our mouths. What can we say? Martin Luther declares in the Smalcald Articles: “This, then, is the thunderbolt by means of which God with one blow destroys both open sinners and false saints. He allows no one to justify himself. He drives all together into terror and despair.” We cannot speak, for all of our chattering, all of our distinctions are no good. God doesn’t care that you are a ‘better person’ than the one sitting next to you tonight; when He looks at this world, all He sees is sinners, sinners accountable to Him, sinners who could never pay their debt.

He sees sinners that He, He alone, can deliver, that He has promised to deliver, that He has delivered. “There is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by His blood, to be received by faith.” God makes no distinctions; all stand condemned under His Law, and all are justified, declared righteous, right with Him, solely by His grace, through the blood of Jesus Christ. On the cross, God justifies Himself by justifying you. “This was to show God’s righteousness, because in His divine forbearance He had passed over former sins. It was to show His righteousness at the present time, so that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.” A God of justice couldn’t simply ignore sin; the Law’s deserved wrath must be poured out. But for centuries, His wrath didn’t come. Even today, many blame God for the existence of unpunished evil. But God is not unjust; His wrath against sin would be poured out, in His time, and upon one man: your substitute, God in the flesh, His own Son, Jesus Christ.

Christ suffered the very anguish of hell; every ounce of wrath earned by the sin of the world was poured out upon Him. On the cross, Jesus suffered for your sins, so that their price is no longer demanded from you; He suffered your punishment, so that you will never feel it. You stand condemned under the Law, but the Law is not God’s final Word, just as the cross was not the end for Christ, so condemnation is not your end. He is risen, and you are delivered, justified, declared righteous before Him, solely through Christ. The Law silences you so that you hear the Gospel and rejoice!

The most important paragraph in the Lutheran Confessions, Article Four of the Augsburg Confession, mercifully brings to an end all the chattering of the medieval church: “It is also taught among us that we cannot obtain forgiveness of sins and righteousness before God on our own merits, works, or satisfactions, but that we receive forgiveness of sin and become righteous before God by grace, for Christ’s sake, through faith, when we believe that Christ suffered for us and that for His sake our sin is forgiven and righteousness and eternal life are given to us. For God will regard and reckon this faith as righteousness.” The Law demands that we be quiet, for all stand condemned under it; the Gospel invites us to be silent, because there is nothing that we need to say, nothing that we need to do. We believe that Christ has done it all for us, and it is ours. It is a gift, we do not earn it; a gift won upon the cross by your substitute, and given to you in the Word, in Holy Baptism, in His Body and Blood in the Lord’s Supper. You are no longer condemned, you are righteous!

As the Apology to the Augsburg Confession declares, “When frightened consciences are consoled by faith and believe that our sins are blotted out by Christ’s death and that God has been reconciled to us because of Christ’s suffering, then indeed Christ’s suffering benefits us.” Christ suffered for you, He has brought the benefits of that suffering near to you in His Word and Holy Sacraments, and you are justified by faith, the faith created by the Holy Spirit in those very means. He has done everything needed to quiet your conscience, a conscience that stood in terror under God’s Law. As Saint Paul says, “Now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the Law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it—the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all who believe.”

The Reformation church is noisy. You hear the sound of the Gospel, freely proclaimed to the entire world. You hear the songs of the saints, trumpeting forth the wonderful good news of God’s free grace on account of Christ. You hear the Divine Service, bringing salvation near to human ears and lips each and every Lord’s Day. The church of the Reformation, the Lutheran Church, cannot keep from chattering, speaking the beautiful message of the Gospel to sinners in desperate need of it. We have a treasure we can’t help but share. The Lutheran Church exists, and the Lutheran Confessions were written to bring comfort to stricken sinners, to those who were living under the Law and all of its demands. Paul declares, “We hold that one is justified by faith apart from the works of the Law.” The Confessions echo: “Faith alone makes a righteous man out of an unrighteous one, that is, that it receives the forgiveness of sins.”

Therefore, the Reformation is for everyone; the Lutheran Church isn’t a German phenomenon, any more than Luther is simply a German cultural icon. The Lutheran Church is for all people because the message she proclaims is for all people. “There is no distinction: for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.” It is that glorious Gospel message that we celebrate on Reformation Day, because that message is for every person on this planet, even you, even me. In the Name of Jesus, who stood in your place under the wrath of God, by whose shed blood you are declared righteous, Amen.

Third Week of Spiritual Renewal for Capital Campaign (Hebrews 10:19-25)

“We have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that He opened for us through the curtain, that is, His flesh.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning, this third week of spiritual renewal for our capital campaign, comes from the tenth chapter of the letter to the Hebrews. Dear friends in Christ, in the temple hung a curtain. This curtain divided what was holy from what was not; it divided the people of God from the holiness of their God. It hung there to shield God’s people, to defend them, to keep them from holiness so pure that it was a terror to sinful man. The curtain proclaimed one message: God is holy—you are not! But man should’ve had no need of a curtain to tell him that; the curtain is only the necessary consequence of that truth, a truth that has stood since our first parents grasped after holiness on their own terms, and found only corruption. 

God is holy—you are not! He is pure love, pure righteousness, pure justice. You are a child of Adam and Eve, corrupted and divided from God at the moment of your conception by the sin you inherited from them. You are filled with hatred and anger, you have soiled yourself with the thoughts and deeds of darkness, you have treated others as you wish no one would treat you, you have destroyed reputations by words and actions. Even if no curtain ever hung in Jerusalem, a curtain still stands between you and your God; between His holiness and your impurity. In your sin, you can only approach Him in terror; you have no access to His holy places, and when the unclean and unholy approach the holy God on the Last Day, that holiness is a consuming fire—for eternity.

There had to be a curtain in the temple, there had to be a divide, because that was reality, that was the truth. That is what the Law in all of its severity, all of its sternness was meant to teach the people: God is holy—you are not! And as long as that curtain hung, the people of God knew that unless someone intervened, a curtain would stand between them and their Creator for eternity. The blood of bulls and goats entered within the veil, but they knew it was not enough. That curtain still stood, blocking them from their God; preventing entrance into the holy places. Someone needed to tear it down, or we would be divided from God for eternity, and someone did.

“Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded up His spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks were split.” At the moment of His death, as Jesus was at the pinnacle of His humility, His abandonment by His Father, as He gave up His dying breath, the temple curtain was torn in two. At that moment, with the Son of God hanging dead upon the cross, the barrier between God and man, between your impurity and His holiness, was destroyed. Christ has put Himself between God and man; through His flesh we are finally brought near to our Creator. “We have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that He opened for us through the curtain, that is, through His flesh.”

The former priesthood could never fully atone; they entered behind the curtain, but the curtain continued to stand. Nothing that sinful man did could remove that barrier. What Paul called the ‘dividing wall of hostility’ still stood. That is, until Jesus came. Christ Jesus came to shed His blood, His holy, precious blood; the price of the Lamb without stain, the blood of the man who is also God, the only price that would suffice. He came to tear down every barrier between creature and Creator by paying the price for your sin, ripping down the curtain and all that it proclaimed. He came not just to show you the way to God, but to be Himself that way, and to bring you through it.

He tore that curtain in two and then put Himself in its place, not to divide you from God, but to bring you near. No doubt, within days of Good Friday, the religious officials hung another curtain in the temple, but it no longer reflected reality. The great High Priest had done what the former priesthood could never do; Jesus had destroyed the division between God and man, between you and the God who created you, by offering the sacrifice of His own flesh and blood. The new curtain is His own flesh, and you are brought through it to the holy places, you have access to your holy God by the forgiveness of your sins. What the former priesthood could never do Christ has done, and the people of God rejoice. “We have a great High Priest over the house of God,” the author to the Hebrews joyously proclaims, a great High Priest that offered Himself as the sacrifice.

Therefore, since we have such a great High Priest, since we have been given access to the holy places of God through His shed blood, let us draw near. “Let us draw near with a true heart in the full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.” Let us draw near, for Christ has brought us near through His death. Let us draw near, for our hearts have been sprinkled clean by the blood of Christ in the waters of Holy Baptism, our bodies have been washed with pure water, the water joined with God’s holy and precious Word. The doorposts and lintels of your heart are marked with the blood of the Lamb. You are holy, your sins are forgiven, for you are the baptized, and you are brought near to God our Father. And that, dear friends in Christ, is what the Church is all about.

Here in this place, the curtain is torn, and you draw near to God’s holiness through the blood of Jesus. Come boldly, come with confidence, not in yourself, but in Christ, whose shed blood has been sprinkled upon you, in whose living stream you have washed your robes and made them white. Here your sins are forgiven, here the holy God comes to you through the flesh and shed blood of His Son. Let us draw near to this altar, for here the catechized are given the very Body and Blood of their Savior. The same Blood shed to give you access to your God is given to you to partake of in this feast. Heaven is open to you, God Himself touches your lips with Himself, giving to you all He won on the cross. Such contact with the divine held only terror to those separated by the curtain, but for you, who have been sprinkled clean from an evil conscience, whose body has been washed with pure water, this is pure joy, this is something worth telling the world about.

And so the author to the Hebrews exhorts us to speak: “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful.” Let us cling to the confession of Christ without wavering, because only through Christ do we have access to the holy things of God, and only through His Blood, given and shed on Calvary’s cross, and given and distributed in the Lord’s Supper. Let us refuse to give up that confession, no matter what the world does to us, let us be willing to die for it, for this confession conquers the world, this confession gives life. Let us confess to and against the world that salvation was won for us upon the cross and is given to us in the means of grace, that the Word, Holy Baptism, and the Sacrament of the Altar give us access to God that is found nowhere else. Let us confess boldly what the Supper is; not some mere memorial of an absent Christ, but the opening of heaven, the incarnate Christ touching our lips with the same Body that hung upon the tree, the same Blood shed there to tear down the curtain that stood between God and man. Let us confess that in this Sacrament is given forgiveness of sins, life and salvation, that this is the very medicine of immortality, the feast that is access to God and that gives access to God.

And let us exhort our fellow saints to partake of it. “Let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.” Let us encourage both children and adults to be catechized and come to the table; let us exhort those who are catechized to come eat and drink. Let us stir one another up, let us be troublemakers, let us bother others, let us be the ones to ask about church attendance and the use of the means of grace, not out of a spiteful spirit, but in concern for our brothers and sisters, and always in love. Those who stay away from the means of grace are trying to walk in the desert without any water, and they are forsaking their fellow believers who are struggling on their own pilgrimage. We are not individuals, we are part of a body, the Body of Christ, that receives the Body and Blood of Christ in the Supper.

There is no renewal in the Church without a renewal of the Lord’s Supper. It is not worth pursuing a capital campaign, or any other effort in the Church, without a renewal of the use of the means of grace, without a renewal of the Sacrament of the Altar. The Supper is the center of the Church’s life, as week after week the incarnate Son of God touches the lips of the saints for the forgiveness of their sins. Here the body of Christ in this place comes together in unity around one table, and the Lord knows what strength comes from gathering together around His gifts. Let us stir up ourselves, let us stir up one another, to partake of Christ’s gifts, for the means of grace take us through the curtain of Christ’s flesh into the holy places of God on that final, triumphant Day.

On that Day, this body that was washed by the water and the Word, that was fed by Christ’s Body and Blood, will be raised, and you will draw near to God’s holiness forever. The Sacrament of the Altar is food for the journey, the journey from Baptism, where you were sprinkled clean by the blood of Christ and washed with pure water, to the Day when your Baptism is completed at the return of Christ. On that Day, you will draw near with boldness, because you enter through Christ, the new and living curtain, who shed His blood to tear down the old curtain, to destroy the dividing wall of hostility, to bring you to your God. God is holy—so are you, through Christ. In the Name of Jesus, our great high priest who offered the sacrifice of Himself, once for all sin, once for all sinners, Amen.

Farewell Sermon (Philippians)

Chris, a pastor, a servant of Christ Jesus, to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Kiron and Deloit: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ. I thank my God whenever I think of you, always praying for you with joy, because of your partnership in the Gospel from the day that I arrived until now. And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you on the day of your baptism will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ, whether I stand in this pulpit or not. It is Christ’s Church, not mine, and He is the One who gives the growth. What else could I hope for you, because I hold you in my heart, and you are all partakers with me of grace? We have labored sided by side in this corner of Christ’s vineyard, and you have shown me overwhelming welcome, care, and encouragement. God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the affection of Christ Jesus. And it is my prayer that your love for each other and for Christ may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruit of righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.

I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that this decision was not made lightly. How could I serve among the saints of Christ in this place, rejoicing when you rejoice, suffering when you suffer, and mourning when you mourn, and simply leave without another thought? It has been my task, my honor and privilege, to be with you in some of the darkest hours of your life, to bring you the light of Christ when there was no other light. And it has been my great joy to feed you with Christ’s Word and His precious Sacrament week after week, sustaining you on your journey and encouraging you to stand firm. Despite all the challenges that we faced together, the last four years have been a joy, and I’ve been encouraged to see so many of you grow in your faith in Christ. My love for you is what made the last two months agonizing, as we struggled to decide whether to walk through the doors Christ had opened for us. But I do not leave you alone; pastors may take calls, but Christ never leaves—He simply changes masks; you will have another faithful man come here to continue the work. It is His Church. And we know as Christians that we are never truly absent from one another; we are united as one in the body of Christ, and we know that we will see each other again, either on this earth, in the outward fellowship of the Church, or in eternity, as we join with all the saints before the Lamb in His Kingdom.

Until that day, let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel, and not frightened in anything by your opponents. This world is becoming more and more hostile to the faith that you hold, and it may be granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in Him but also suffer for His sake, engaged in the same conflict that you see happening to your brothers and sisters around the world.

So if there is any encouragement in Christ, any comfort from love, any participation in the Spirit, any affection and sympathy, complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Live in unity with one another, for you are children of the same God, you are redeemed by the same Savior. What have you to be prideful of, if everything you have is a gift? Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. As I’ve preached to you time and time again, place the needs of others ahead of your own. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, “though He was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made Himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted Him and bestowed on Him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.”

Therefore, my beloved, as you have always clung to Christ, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, serve your neighbor and keep the faith not with vainglory and boasting, but with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. Do all things without the grumbling or quarreling that destroys joy, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world. Stand out from those around you, as light stands out in the darkness, as the straight stands out next to the crooked. Hold fast to the Word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may know that I did not run in vain or labor in vain in your midst. Do not let these four years of labor be in vain! Cling to the faith that has been given to you; support one another in unity, that none of those in your fellowship, especially the youth, may fall away. Even if you are to be poured out as a sacrificial offering because of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all, because you are baptized in the Name of Jesus, who humbled Himself to deliver you from sin, death, and the power of the devil. This world cannot destroy your joy because it cannot destroy you; you belong to Christ, who conquered death.

Next week, Pastor Mahnken will be sent to St. John’s, so that I too may be cheered by news of you. For I know no one like him, who will be genuinely concerned for your welfare. For so many seek their own interests, not those of Jesus Christ. But you know Pastor Mahnken’s proven worth, how he has served with me in the Gospel, and has mentored a young pastor as he tried to find his way. At Faith Pastor Fritz, my brother and fellow worker and fellow soldier, is sent to you. I was excited to hear that he will fill the vacancy, and with these men serving you, I am less anxious. Receive them in the Lord with all joy, receive them as you received me, and honor such men, for they are servants of God in your midst, here to distribute the very gifts of Christ, as I did these past years.

Finally, brothers and sisters, rejoice in the Lord. Look out for the dogs, look out for the evildoers, look out for those who would lead you astray, that would steal your joy by fixing your eyes on the things of this world. We are not of this world, we are Christians, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh. In fact, whatever we gain in this world, we count as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, we count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus our Lord. Nothing else matters; in Christ we find joy. For His sake we have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that we may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of our own, but that which comes as a gift through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith—that we may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in His death, that through Him we will attain the resurrection from the dead.

Not that we have already obtained this or are already perfect, but we press on to make it our own, because Christ Jesus has made us His own. Dear friends in Christ, we do not consider that we have made it our own. But one thing we do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, we fix our eyes on the things that are above, on the things of Christ. Brothers and sisters, join in imitating the saints; keep your eyes on those who walk according to the example you are given in the Scriptures. For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. They want to rob you of your faith. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. But your citizenship is in heaven, and from it you await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform your lowly body to be like His glorious body, by the power that enables him even to subject all things to Himself. There is resurrection in your future. Therefore, my friends, whom I love and will miss dearly, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord.

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. You have a treasure this world cannot take away. The Lord is at hand, He is coming soon; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving call upon the God who promises to hear you. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, dear friends, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things, fill your mind with them. What you have learned and received and heard in the Scriptures—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.

I am humbled that I had the opportunity to serve as your pastor; I, a poor, miserable sinner, am not worthy of this office, yet you invited me into your lives, and I pray that I showed you Christ, not myself. Thank you for the care and compassion you showed to me and my family, for all that you have done to provide for our needs. And now, I know that the Lord will supply your every need according to his riches in Christ Jesus. He who has given up His own life for His bride will certainly care for her until that glorious Day when He brings her to Himself forever. Until that day, we say with Saint Paul, “In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” You can do all things, even say goodbye to a pastor, through Christ. It is His Church, and she endures, to the very end. To our God and Father be glory forever and ever, Amen. Greet every saint in Christ Jesus. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit, Amen.

Proper 20 of Series A (Matthew 20:1-16)

“So the last will be first, and the first last.” Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and our Savior Jesus Christ, Amen. The text for our sermon this morning comes from the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago from the twentieth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ: the Church is a vineyard, and we are the workers. We are called by the Master to work in His vineyard, to tend it and care for it through our various vocations. Some of you, like me, were called early in the morning; you have been laboring in this vineyard your entire life. Christ saw you, conceived and born in sin, and through the power of His Word and using the people around you as His instruments, you were called to work in the vineyard.

When you were baptized, the Lord promised your wage: eternal life, won by His death and resurrection for you. “After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius a day, he sent them into his vineyard.” That denarius is already yours; promised to you by the Master. You have been reconciled with the vineyard owner, you are brought back to your God through the shed blood of Christ. You labor not to earn the denarius of eternal life; you labor because it has been given to you. And boy, have you labored. You have kept the faith, you have served the Church, from that first hour; you never fell away, you are one of the dependable ones, who has lived an upright life, who has stayed true to Scripture. You have held every office, worked every soup supper, and taught every Sunday School class. In fact, you have labored so long and so hard in the vineyard that you are starting to believe that you are earning that denarius, that your dedication to this particular corner of Christ’s vineyard is getting you in good with your master, maybe even earning a little extra.

Others of you were called at the third hour. You weren’t baptized as infants, but somehow, you and your family, or maybe just you, were called by the Master in childhood. “And going out about the third hour he saw others standing idle in the marketplace, and to them he said, ‘You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.’” Perhaps you came from a broken home, where childhood was a struggle and there was little love. Or maybe you came from a ‘good’ family who simply didn’t believe, who wanted nothing to do with the Church. But the Lord worked through friends, He worked through family, faithful grandparents or aunts and uncles, to call you to faith, to bring you to Church, to take you to the font, where you received your wage, won by Christ your Lord. He gives you “whatever is right;” whatever is righteous, His righteousness, won upon the cross and placed upon you as a beautiful robe in your baptism. And then you go to work, laboring long and hard in that vineyard through the heat of the day.

Others of you were called at the sixth hour. You lived in darkness for years, even decades. Maybe you had been baptized as an infant, and had walked out of the vineyard, maybe you were never there in the first place. Perhaps you fell into sexual immorality, addiction, or greed. There was no place for Christ as you wallowed in your sin. There was a pastor who once said to me: “You young guys, you life-long Christians, you have no idea what darkness is.” He’s right. Those who work from the first hour may suffer and struggle, but they do not know the darkness of total unbelief. You do; you’ve lived in the dark night where there is no hope, you lived a life asking for hell, but Christ called you, He washed you, He sanctified you. He gives you “whatever is right,” His righteousness, and it covers each and every stain. He shone His great light in the midst of your darkness and chased the shadows away. Your past makes you rough around the edges, it makes you different from your fellow workers, the ‘good church people’ who have been here from the first hour, but you still labor beside them, faithfully tending the vineyard.

Others of you were called at the ninth hour. Things were getting late, but Christ is long-suffering, He is patient. Maybe it was the influence of children or grandchildren, maybe it was a parent’s dying wish, but Christ worked through others to call you to His vineyard. You were away for decades, but Christ is persistent, He is stubborn, and He never gave up on you. It took Him so long to convince you of your sin, and to show you that His blood atones for every stain. You were hardened by life, but Christ broke through your tough shell and brought you to faith. Now you labor beside those whom you may have known your entire life, but never in the Church, never in the vineyard. 

Some are called at the eleventh hour. These are the death-bed conversions, those who have lived outside the vineyard their entire lives and are called at the very end. “And about the eleventh hour he went out and found others standing. And he said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’ They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too.’” They have been idle all the day, refusing to work in the vineyard for an entire lifetime. They have been working for their own damnation their entire lives, but here, at the end, confronted with the enemy that no man can defeat, the Master’s call gets through. Death has stripped away all that caused them to refuse this call before, and now they are finally baptized, brought into the vineyard. It doesn’t seem like a dying person can do much labor, but Jesus puts them to work, that perhaps even in death they may cause a part of the vineyard to flourish.

As I’ve labored in this corner of Christ’s vineyard these past years, I have known people called at every hour; I have baptized infants, children, adults, and a dying man. I know for a fact that here in this sanctuary today we have those called to labor early in the morning, in the third hour, the sixth hour, and the ninth hour. You know who you are. Your stories are not the same; you each have taken unique journeys to get here today. Your path is not identical, but the destination is. “And when evening came, the owner of the vineyard said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ And when those hired about the eleventh hour came, each of them received a denarius.” The reward is equal, because it was given before any labor was done. The reward is equal, because it is given as a gift. The reward is the fruit of Christ’s death and resurrection, it is life eternal in the vineyard of the new heavens and the new earth. This is your reward, promised to you in your baptism and given to you when you die. Because of Christ, your death isn’t defeat, it is when you are given an eternal treasure. That same treasure is given to all, whether they were hired at the first hour, the third hour, the sixth hour, the ninth hour, or even the eleventh hour.

“Now when those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’” In our sin, we are always in competition, we are always comparing ourselves to others. And when we have labored long in the vineyard, especially when we are those who have worked from the first hour, we deceive ourselves into thinking we are earning something by our labor. If Christ pays the death-bed convert one denarius, surely I’ll get two! And so, tragically, we look down on our fellow laborers, we think that they are less than we are, and when we hear that they will receive the same wage, we grumble against our Master.

But our Master immediately rebukes this complaint. “Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you. Am I not allowed to do what I chose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity?” Repent! It is the Master’s vineyard, not ours; He is the one who planted it, and He is the one who calls workers to tend it, in His good time and according to His good purposes. And He is the one who gives out the wage; He has earned that right, because He won the reward by His agony on the cross and His victory over death. And because it is His vineyard to tend, His reward to give, He chooses to give to all who believe the same reward: eternal life. 

No normal vineyard master would do this, but Christ is certainly not normal, as we hear from Isaiah: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” It is Christ’s grace to give, and He gives it in abundance, to the life-long Christian, to the wandering and rebellious sinner, even to the one who was idle all the day. We are all the same because we are all sinners; none of us deserve His grace, whether we are called in the first hour or the last. But yet His grace is given in abundance to you, no matter the hour you were called, no matter what life you lived, because He died for you and He rose for you, and He has called you, every one of you, making you His own in the blessed waters of baptism.

Christ calls at His time, not ours, and no matter the hour you are called in, you are called to serve your neighbor. Your labor in the vineyard isn’t for your own good, to earn the reward, but for the good of others. Paul understood this; in our Epistle lesson, He says that to die and receive his reward would be much better for him, but to live on is for the good of his neighbor. “I am hard pressed between the two. My desire is to depart and be with Christ, for that is far better. But to remain in the flesh is more necessary on your account.” If our reward was all that mattered, God would simply take our life immediately after we were baptized. But we remain, some for only a few hours, some the entire day, for the good of our neighbor, just as others remained for your good, to extend Christ’s call to you, a call that brought you to the vineyard, where the reward is yours. No matter what hour your were called, no matter what your past is, on the Last Day, Christ will pay your wages, and you will receive your denarius, your entrance into a life that never ends with all the saints, called at every hour, but all with the same promise, all with the same reward, bought with the blood of Christ. In the Name of Jesus, the Master of the vineyard who earned your reward with His own blood, Amen.

Proper 19 of Series A (Matthew 18:21-35)

“Out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt.” 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 eighteenth chapter of the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. Dear friends in Christ: ten thousand talents. That is what the servant owed his King. Ten thousand talents. No normal king would ever let such a staggering debt accumulate. Ten thousand talents. A day laborer in ancient Israel would have to work approximately sixty million days to pay off that debt. Ten thousand talents. With a high wage, he could maybe take care of it in a thousand years. Ten thousand talents. This is your debt, your debt to God; Jesus isn’t exaggerating as He tells this parable, if anything, He is making it seem smaller than it actually is. Ten thousand talents. The debt that you owe God is obscenely huge, enormously large, greater than you can even comprehend. The servant heard the penalty: “Since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and payment to be made.” Even with such drastic measures, the king would only see a miniscule fraction of the debt paid back. And you? Even if God tosses you in hell for eternity, the debt will never be paid. In your sin, you owe your Creator more than you can even comprehend.

And we foolishly think we can pay it off! The servant is confronted with his staggering, ridiculous debt, and he tries to negotiate with his King. “So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’” He has been confronted with a debt that would take a day laborer sixty million days to pay, and all he asks for is patience? ‘Just give me some time—just a hundred and sixty thousand years; or just a thousand, if I get a really good job!’ He honestly thinks he can pay it off! This is the height of delusion, of foolishness, but yet, we do the same with God, don’t we? We do not understand the enormity of our debt; we think that it is something we can pay. Our natural inclination to work ourselves into heaven deceives us into thinking that a person can actually do it. Isn’t that what we are doing when we put faith in our works, when we base our confidence on the statement ‘I’ve lived a good life’? We think we can take care of it ourselves, that we can bargain with God, that He’ll somehow overlook our debt if we show up at church, if we raise good kids, if we serve on the city council or the fire department. We are fools; we just don’t get it, we do not grasp how great our debt is to God. ‘Just give me some time, God—I’ll pay it off!’

But we can’t. This debt we owe can never be paid off. Even an eternity in hell isn’t enough. The debt cannot go unpaid; it must be accounted for. Someone must pay; and you are on the hook. The creditor is calling, it is time to pay up, and if you can’t, then the debtors’ prison is open for eternity. If we truly understood the depth of our sin, if we comprehended that we owe a debt to the Creator of the universe that we could never pay, we would quit our foolish bargaining and simply cry out to God for mercy, as we did in the Introit this morning: “Hear my prayer, O Lord; give ear to my pleas for mercy! In your faithfulness answer me, in your righteousness! Enter not into judgment with your servant, for no one living is righteous before you.” We would run to the altar of God, beat our breasts and with tears beg for mercy. But instead, we go through life never thinking of our debt, or, if we do realize what we owe God, we foolishly say, ‘I’ll take care of it—don’t worry, God, I’ll pay you back!’

Fortunately, the King doesn’t put up with our foolishness. “And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt.” The servant foolishly asked for some time; the King gives far more than that. Moved by pity, the entire debt is cancelled, forgiven, eliminated. The servant is now free! We try to negotiate, we try to work our way into heaven, we foolishly think we can do something ourselves to pay the debt we owe to our God, but our eternal King wants nothing to do with it. He understands the enormity of our debt, even if we are fools and fail to grasp it ourselves. He looks upon us with pity, with compassion, with love.

His pity and compassion led Him to do something about our debt. The debt needed to be paid; God would not be a God of justice if He simply let us off the hook. No, the debt needed to be paid, but no ordinary human could ever pay the price. The only price that would suffice was His Son, Jesus Christ, true God from eternity. Only as true God could Jesus offer the sufficient price; only as true man could that price be offered in our place. In compassion, in pity, God sent His Son into this world to pay our debt, once and for all. The debt was enormous; the cost would be incredible. Christ would stand in our place even unto death, even facing the very wrath and abandonment of God upon that cross. We can scarcely comprehend our debt; it boggles the mind to consider Christ’s payment of it. On that cross, He not only suffered for your ten-thousand talent debt, He suffered for the debt of every human who had ever lived or ever will live. That is how precious His blood is! That is how much every drop is worth! He suffered an eternity of hell during those hours on the cross.

Your debt is now paid; Christ proved it when He walked out of the tomb, victorious over your jailers. With His resurrection, God turns to you and says, ‘You are forgiven.’ “And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt.” Your debt is gone; it has been paid for, eliminated, wiped off the books forever. God saw your sin, He saw your debt, and He did not act in wrath, He acted in pity, in compassion. Now, for the sake of Christ, He forgives that debt. He considers the accounts closed, the matter done. There is nothing you need to do, no additional price needs to be paid. You are forgiven! God’s grace is more enormous that your sin, more overwhelming than your debt! You are reconciled with God; your debt has been paid, now and forever.

But the King isn’t the only one to whom debts are owed. The servants also owe each other. “But when that same servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, ‘Pay what you owe!’” A hundred denarii. The debts we owe each other are not insignificant; we are capable of sinning greatly against our fellow servants. A hundred denarii. That is about four months wages, around ten to fifteen thousand dollars today. A hundred denarii. Some of you are owed large debts; you know how much sin can hurt. A hundred denarii. This debt looks like a lot to our human eyes, but only if we have failed to grasp the enormity of our debt.

A hundred denarii isn’t pocket change, but it looks like pop machine money when set next to a debt of ten thousand talents. The servant failed to understand the enormity of his debt; now he fails to understand the enormity of the King’s forgiveness. He who has been forgiven so much, who has had an incredible, unpayable debt eliminated, refuses to forgive another. He foolishly holds against his neighbor a debt that for him been taken care of by the King’s pity and grace. He has been forgiven much; he refuses to forgive even a little. We all have others who owe us debts; some are quite large, of the one hundred denarii variety, but most are much smaller. However, every debt that is owed to us is miniscule, insignificant, when compared with the debt that has already been forgiven.

The King has little tolerance for those who have been forgiven yet refuse to forgive others. “Then his master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’ And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt.” The King will not tolerate His grace being drug through the mud and treated as worthless. He understands the enormity of the debt that has been forgiven; He understands fully the price that was necessary to show His compassion. He cannot abide you or me despising the gift won by His Son’s precious blood, and so His wrath falls again on those who refuse to forgive.

We refuse to forgive because we do not grasp the enormity of God’s forgiveness for the sake of Christ; we don’t understand the greatness of our debt, so we don’t understand the greatness of His forgiveness. The most important step in forgiving others is receiving that forgiveness in all of its abundance. The King’s forgiveness comes first. If we do not come to this place and receive forgiveness, it is going to be very difficult to give forgiveness to others. We cannot give out what has not been first given to us. We view the debts of others in light of the infinitely greater debt that we have already been forgiven. Then, we remember that forgiveness is not a one-time thing. Peter asked, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus answered him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.” Forgiveness is a process, and like many things in this life, it takes time and it takes repetition. God, fortunately, doesn’t forgive us only once, but He forgives each and every week in the Divine Service, and each and every day in your baptismal life of repentance.

That’s a good thing, because we continue to accumulate debt, sinning against God and our neighbors, especially by withholding forgiveness. So we stand before Him as a debtor, each and every day, in the posture of humble repentance, and we lay before Him our every sin, even the sin of failing to forgive. And He responds with grace. “And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt.” You are forgiven of your debt, and you are sent out into this world to extend that forgiveness to others, knowing that when you do this imperfectly, God’s grace is always greater than your sin. In this place you come before the King, and He forgives your debt, down to the last penny. In the Name of Jesus, who in compassion paid our debt, Amen.