Cruce Tectum

Cruce tectum, hidden under the cross, a blog for Epiphany Lutheran Church, Dorr, Michigan

Location: Moscow, Idaho

Sunday, September 18, 2016

New Blog

I've recently taken a Divine Call to serve as Associate Pastor at Messiah Lutheran Church, Seattle, Washington, deployed as Pastor of the Messiah Lutheran + Moscow Mission, Moscow, Idaho.  You can find my sermons and blog posts at my new blog, Palouse Pastor.

Monday, September 05, 2016

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost (C—Proper 16)

August 21, 2016
Text: Luke 13:22-30

            “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2; ESV).  I pray that is as true for me here, in this place, as it was for St. Paul in Corinth.  For that is how you should evaluate a preacher.  If he preaches Christ crucified for sinners, Christ crucified for you, for the forgiveness of sins, and Christ risen for you, for your eternal life, then well and good.  If he has decided to know other things than that among you, to proclaim other things, then run.  Flee the preaching.  Christ crucified is the narrow door by whom you must enter salvation.  There is no other door to eternal life, as Jesus says in another place, “I am the door.  If anyone enters by me, he will be saved” (John 10:9), and again, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).  There is one thing, and one thing only you require from a preacher: That is Christ crucified for your sins. 
            As Jesus is on His way through the towns and villages, teaching and journeying toward Jerusalem (Luke 13:22), journeying toward His suffering and death on the cross, someone asked Him, “Lord, will those who are saved be few?”  Our Lord does not directly answer the question.  Instead he bids the enquirer, “Strive to enter through the narrow door.  For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able” (v. 23).  So, what is the answer?  The door is narrow.  That means it isn’t the obvious door to enter.  It looks insignificant.  It looks hard.  You would not, by nature, choose that door when there are doors wide and plentiful to choose from, all claiming to lead to the Kingdom, doors that look like Kingdom doors, the doors to which the great crowds of people are drawn.  If you are to enter the narrow door, someone has to tell you about it.  Someone has to preach.  Someone has to let you in on the mystery: That door is the one that leads to the Kingdom.  That door, and that door only.  And they may even have to take you by the hand and lead you there through that door.  Everybody else will be entering through some other sort of door.  There are the doors of other religions, other gods who are not our God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  There are the doors of rugged individualism and self-made success, where everyone is damned but hard workers like you.  There are velvet doors of acceptance and affirmation where no one is damned because god loves you just as you are and there is no such thing as sin or hell.  There are doors of wisdom, doors of knowledge, doors of pleasure, doors of pain.  “Retro” is in, and the doors of good, old-fashioned paganism are popular again.  What is unpopular is to say that every one of these broad, attractive, Kingdom-looking doors lead to the same place, and it isn’t heaven.  It is hell.  It is eternal separation from God.  In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth (v. 28).  Preaching the exclusivity of Jesus Christ isn’t popular.  But it’s true.  There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other Name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved (Acts 4:12).  Only the narrow door, Christ crucified, saves you. 
            What is really unpopular, even among good, Missouri Synod Lutherans, is to point out that many of these big, broad doors are labeled with the brand-name “Christian.”  But they lead just as surely to hell as blatant Satanism.  I can’t believe I’m telling you to do this, but flip on the old television set this afternoon and tune in to one of the Christians channels.  Listen for a minute to the preaching.  Now, don’t listen for whether the things he or she is saying happen to be true, or even whether you happen to agree with them.  You may agree with 90% of what the preacher is saying (I’m being charitable).  But listen for this: Is the preacher preaching Christ crucified for the forgiveness of your sins?  Or is he preaching how you can be a better you?  How you can earn God’s favor or make God smile?  Perhaps he’s preaching about how to manage your marriage or your family or your money faithfully, biblically.  Maybe he’s quoting all kinds of Bible verses.  That’s all well and good.  I can do that, too.  I have great tips for your marriage.  I can tell you what the Bible says to fathers and mothers and children.  I can help you balance your budget and even be generous with your money.  All good stuff.  But that’s not the Gospel.  That won’t save you.  If a preacher isn’t preaching Christ crucified for your sins, he’s a robber and a wolf!  Run him out of the sheep-fold.  And if you can’t run him out, you flee.  There are many people who say Christian sounding things and do Christian looking things, but the things they say and do have nothing to do with Christ crucified for the forgiveness of your sins.  These actually happen to be Pharisees.  And insofar as this is you, repent.  When the door is shut, these often sincere and pious people will begin to say to Jesus, “Lord, we’re Christians!  We ate and drank in your presence.  We went to Communion.  We did our duty.  You taught in our streets.  We heard sermons and went to Sunday School.  We turned on the Christian channel every Sunday afternoon like Pastor told us to.”  And He will say, “It tell you, I do not know where you come from.  Depart from me, all you workers of evil” (Luke 13:27).
            What will surprise everyone in the end is just who it is who will enter through that narrow door and recline at Table in the Kingdom of God.  It won’t be good Jews, pious Pharisees, or morally upright Church-going citizens.  It will be a multitude from east and west, north and south, Gentiles, tax-collectors, prostitutes, and sinners, drug-addicts and murderers, liars and politicians… Whoever enters not by a righteousness of their own, but solely by the righteousness of Jesus Christ, His sin-atoning death and life-giving resurrection, dispensed right here in preaching and Sacrament to those who could never be worthy in and of themselves.  By God’s grace, it will even be you.  The last will be first, and the first will be last.  Those we thought were rock star Christians may not shine as brightly as we expected.  And those we counted out as sinners unworthy of the name “Christian” will be honored above all because they only looked to Christ and His mercy for their salvation.  Dr. Rod Rosenbladt, a theology professor at Concordia, Irvine, California, famously said: “Christianity is not about turning an individual from vice to virtue; it is about turning a person from ‘imagined virtue’ to Christ.”  Christianity is about showing a person the narrow door carved by nail and spear in the flesh of Christ, by which alone you gain entrance to the eternal joy of your Father’s Kingdom.
            The Christian pastor is one who is always pointing to, talking about, shouting about, pulling you toward, dragging you kicking and screaming through… the narrow door.  The Christian pastor has one focus in his ministry: Christ crucified for the forgiveness of your sins.  And his goal is to make this same Lord Jesus your focus, that we fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God (Heb. 12:2).  Fix your eyes on Jesus.  Look at Him there on the cross, bearing your sin and putting it to death forever.  Look at Him with your ears as He speaks this reality into you.  He draws you to Himself.  He draws you through the door, the narrow one, His flesh, His wounds, to His Kingdom, His Table.
            The Kingdom of God, Jesus says, is a Table at which you recline for a Feast.  What is the Kingdom of God?  Is it heaven?  Oh, yes, it certainly is that.  Is it the Resurrection?  Absolutely.  Remember, the fullness of the salvation Jesus won for us isn’t just heaven, where our spirit goes when we die.  It is the resurrection of the body and the life of the world to come.  But the Kingdom is even more than this.  The Kingdom is Jesus Himself.  And that means something surprising and absolutely wonderful.  The Kingdom has arrived!  It’s hidden, yet.  It isn’t any more obvious than the narrow door.  But it is here.  Oh, it is here.  Because He is here.  Jesus, the Crucified, the Risen One, your Savior.  It is He who is speaking to you.  I am just His mouthpiece.  He is speaking.  He is present.  He’s here as surely as you are.  In His risen body!  Even more really present than you are.  And what has He done?  He has set a Table and He bids you come and recline.  Come and rest a spell.  Gather around with the rest of the family.  Eat and drink and be merry.  Feast on His Body and Blood and sing praise.  Your sins are forgiven.  You are a son, a daughter of God.  Join the festal throng with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven.  Join your brothers and sisters in heaven and on earth, from every nation and tribe and language and people.  Even from Idaho.
            How do you evaluate a preacher, whether it be the one concluding his ministry among you or the new guy coming in, or for that matter, those who fill the pulpit in between?  You don’t ask whether what he’s preaching is true or whether you find it agreeable.  You ask whether he’s preaching Christ crucified for the forgiveness of your sins.  He may not live up to all your personal expectations.  His voice may be annoying.  His personality may rub you the wrong way.  Maybe he has a face only a mother could love.  He will sin against you.  But if he preaches Christ crucified, if he gives you Jesus, if he forgives your sins and gathers you around the Table, he’s the guy you need.

            I’ll see you again, beloved.  If not here, then in heaven.  And in the meantime, I’ll meet you at the altar.  Every Sunday.  I love you.  You are family.  Thank you for the last ten years.  Thank you for everything.  I have to go for now, but Jesus isn’t going anywhere.  Thank God, He’s right here, where He promised to be, for you.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                    

Sunday, August 14, 2016

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost (C—Proper 15)

August 14, 2016
Text: Luke 12:49-56

            “Baptism… now saves you” (1 Peter 3:21; ESV).  That’s what the Bible says.  It’s right there in black and white.  In the Catechism we memorize the words of the blessed Reformer: “How can water do such great things?  Certainly not just water, but the word of God in and with the water does these things, along with the faith which trusts this word of God in the water.  For without God’s word, the water is plain water and no Baptism.  But with the word of God it is a Baptism, that is, a life-giving water, rich in grace, and a washing of the new birth in the Holy Spirit, as St. Paul says in Titus, chapter three: ‘He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out on us generously through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by His grace, we might become heirs having the hope of eternal life.  This is a trustworthy saying’” (Luther’s Small Catechism [St. Louis: Concordia, 1986]).
            But before your Baptism into Christ by water and the Word can save you, Jesus must first undergo a Baptism of fire and blood.  “I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled” (Luke 12:49).  What our Lord means by that He explains by way of Hebrew parallelism in the next verse: “I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!” (v. 50).  The fire is the Baptism.  And what is the fire?  It is the cross.  It is the shedding of His holy, precious blood and His innocent suffering and death for the forgiveness of your sins.  It is the fire of God’s wrath suffered in your place.  Jesus, of course, was already baptized by John in the Jordan River at the beginning of His earthly ministry.  This, too, is very important.  There our Lord stepped into the muddy river where so many had confessed their sins and received the Baptism of repentance.  There our Lord soaks up the sins of all the world, your sins and mine, the sins of all people, to bear them to the cross and put them to death in His flesh.  Behind Him, in the water, He leaves His perfect righteousness and the gift of eternal life.  Jesus is baptized into you in the Jordan, that you may be baptized into Him at the font.  He is baptized into your sin, that you be baptized into His righteousness.  Jesus is baptized by John in the Jordan River.  But our Lord’s Baptism is not complete until He is nailed to the tree and bathed in blood.
            Baptism and the cross are inseparably connected.  For Jesus.  For you.  They always go together.  The fire Jesus casts on the earth is the hellfire of God’s wrath which He suffers for you on the cross.  That is His Baptism of blood.  He is covered in it.  Because He was baptized by John into your sin, He must pay for it all, and there is no paying for sin apart from blood.  So He pours it out from every vein, from every gouge of flesh made by Roman scourge, from His hands, His feet, His sacred head, His riven side, water and blood, font and chalice, that you be baptized into Him and receive into yourself the fruits of His cross.  Baptism and cross, two sides of the same coin.  On the cross your salvation is accomplished.  In Baptism it is bestowed.  And now Jesus says things like, “If anyone would come after me,” if you want to be my disciple, if you want to be a Christian, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me” (9:23).  That is simply to say, be baptized and live as one baptized into Christ.  Die daily with Christ (repentance), and daily arise in His resurrection life (forgiveness and the Holy Spirit).  And that means that with your Baptism also comes a cross.  Not for your salvation.  That is done with Christ’s cross.  This is simply the cost of following Jesus.  And this is the division Jesus talks about in our text: division between believers and unbelievers, division of loved ones on account of Jesus and His Gospel: “Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth?  No, I tell you, but rather division” (12:51). 
            This doesn’t sound like we think Jesus ought to sound, and it certainly doesn’t square with our Christmas card theology.  But you have to ask, what does Jesus mean when He says He’s come to bring division?  It’s not that He delights in division.  Far from it.  Division, especially in the things that pertain to God and our relationship to Him, is sinful.  Jesus prays that His Church would be one (John 17).  On earth, it appears to be anything but.  This is not as it should be.  But the things that divide us matter.  You can’t just pretend they don’t exist.  And the thing is, if you love Jesus, you love what He says.  And you’ll insist on it.  You’ll even die for it.  As a result, what happens?  Even your own family members take offense at you.  They divide themselves from you.  And this is more than simply strife at the dinner table or tension during the holidays.  In the Soviet Union, children were to report their parents if they tried to teach them the faith.  Family members were to report Christian family members to the government for investigation of subversive Christian activities.  Friends were to report friends.  It is even worse today in the Islamic world.  Family members are to persecute Christian family members, shun them, even murder them for the Christian faith.  And you may say to yourself, “Those examples are from other times or other places.  It won’t happen here.”  But now there are Christian teachings that are disfavored by our own government.  Christian employers must pay for abortion coverage, no matter if it violates religious principles.  There is talk of forcing pro-life doctors and nurses to participate in abortions, and that already happens at many hospitals.  Christian bakers and photographers and florists must participate in same-sex weddings.  There is talk of stripping the Church of her tax-exempt status if she does not approve of homosexual marriage.  Measures have been proposed to force churches and clergy to perform these weddings.  If this is not governmental religious coercion, I don’t know what is.  Now, as these things as codified in law, what do you think will happen here?  Church members will report their pastor’s sermons.  Children will report their parents’ intolerant views.  It will be just like Jesus says: “father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law” (Luke 12:53).  And it hurts!  There is the sword of division Jesus brings.  There is the cross of the Baptized.
            And these things are signs, Jesus says.  Signs of what?  Signs that Messiah has arrived, that He’s done His saving work, and He is coming back.  The End is near.  Put not your trust in princes or presidential candidates.  Only Jesus saves.  Interpret the signs.  He is coming soon.  He said this would happen. 
            But do not despair.  Repent and believe the Good News.  Jesus Christ is your Savior from sin and death.  He died for your forgiveness.  He is risen and lives and reigns with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  That is where His Baptism leads.  Baptism always includes the cross and death, to be sure, but what is the end result of all of that?  Resurrection!  Easter!  New life, eternal and abundant!  That is what happened to your Lord.  And you are baptized into Christ.  That is what will happen to you!  It already has, in your Baptism, but for now it is hidden in Christ, hidden under the cross.  But then, on that Day, when Jesus returns, it will be manifest.  All will see it.  Jesus will raise you from the dead.  You will live with Him forever.  No more danger.  No more death.  No more mourning or crying or pain.  The old order of things has passed away.  Behold, the new has come. 

            Plain water could not do this.  But the water included in God’s command and combined with God’s Word works forgiveness of sins, rescues from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe this, as the Words and Promises of God declare: “Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned” (Mark 16:16).  Beloved, rejoice in your Baptism.  Live in it.  Rest in it.  Exult in it.  You are baptized into Christ.  He has been baptized in fire and blood for you, assuaging God’s wrath and atoning for your sin.  And whatever you suffer now is but a brief, momentary affliction in comparison with the joy that awaits you.  Jesus died and rose for you.  You live forever in Him.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.            

Sunday, July 31, 2016

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost

Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost (C—Proper 13)

July 31, 2016
Text: Luke 12:13-21

            The true riches have nothing to do with financial security or abundance of possessions.  The true riches are yours in Christ.  They are the gifts given freely, poured out upon you from the wounds of our crucified Lord.  They are the forgiveness of sins, eternal life, and salvation.  They are peace with God, the wiping out of your debt, the end of your death and condemnation, the providence of your heavenly Father, and the protection of the holy angels.  The true riches are the gifts of the Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control (Gal. 5:22-23).  The Holy Spirit Himself dwells in you by virtue of your Baptism.  And you are in Christ by virtue of your Baptism, and in Christ, God is your Father who loves you, and you are His dear child, and you possess the very Kingdom.  When you understand that these are the true riches, distributed here, freely, in Preaching and Sacrament, it reorders your priorities now in this life.  Your money and your stuff are really not that important.  All that really matters is Christ.  For it is He who, “though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9; ESV).  God became a man, became poor unto death, that you might be rich unto life and dwell forever with God. 
            You know that by faith, but you live as if it isn’t true.  That is why you worry.  That is why you never have quite enough, and if you could just have a little more, then you would feel secure and be generous.  But of course, when you get a little more, you need just a little more.  Even Donald Trump said, long before he was running for president, that his wealth will never be enough.  He will always want more.  And lest we think this plague is exclusive to the rich, think how this same thinking can afflict the poor.  Poverty, by definition, is a lack of money and possessions.  So what do the poor look for to deliver them from poverty?  Money.  Stuff.  Rich and poor alike think the answer to all that ails them is more money, more stuff.  Covetousness, which is idolatry, plagues us all.  Repent. 
            Is it sinful to have money?  Is it wrong to hold possessions and enjoy them?  No, these things are good gifts of God and should be received with thanksgiving.  God even gives a commandment that affirms ownership and property.  “You shall not steal,” God says, which means you should not take your neighbor’s stuff, and your neighbor shouldn’t take yours.  Instead, you should help each other prosper and keep your stuff.  What, then, is the sin Jesus warns us against in our Holy Gospel?  He says, “be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions” (Luke 12:15).  That means, don’t look for happiness and fulfillment in wealth or in things.  God does not give these to you to fill you.  They cannot do that.  And when you look to them to do that, you have made them a god.  You worship a god called Mammon.  And you are enslaved.  If you can’t give a thing away or suffer the loss of it, you are a slave to that thing.  If you cannot be generous with your money and give it away, you are a slave to your money.  If you cannot live without that house or that car or even that person, you are a slave to that house or that car or that person.  Repent.  If something has become an idol to you, the best thing you can do is give it away.  After all, you cannot keep it forever, no matter how firm your grasp.  As they say, you can’t take it with you when you go.  Hearses don’t tow trailers.  Naked you came forth from your mother’s womb, and naked shall you go (Job 1:21).  You’re going to die, and all your wealth and all your stuff will be meaningless to you.
            The parable of the rich man in our text is instructive here.  The land produces plentifully.  Already we have the language of gift.  The rich man cannot produce a crop.  God gives the crop success.  But the rich man does not receive the gift with thanksgiving.  He does not credit God for his success.  He credits himself.  And he hoards it up.  It belongs to him, he thinks.  He earned it.  And now he knows just what to do.  He will tear down his barns and build bigger ones that can hold more.  He will store his grain and his stuff and live the good life for many years.  He will relax, eat, drink, and be merry.  Now, it’s not that God is against relaxation and feasting and merry making.  The Bible paints heaven in these very terms.  But what is the man doing?  He is building his own heaven on earth.  And to what does he look to deliver him to that heaven?  His riches.  His stuff.  And he does not stop to consider that God does not give His gifts so that we can hoard them up and be selfish with them, much less look to the gift instead of the Giver for every good, thus making the gift our god.  God gives His gifts, not only to be a blessing to us, but to be a blessing to our neighbor through us.  This is the key for the Christian when it comes to money and possessions: God gives us gifts so we can be generous with them.  God gives us gifts so we can give them to our neighbor in love.  To give the gifts (which don’t belong to you, anyway… They belong to God!) to your neighbor is to be rich toward God.  And these gifts are not a zero sum game.  God does not forsake you when you give the gifts away.  He gives you more.  To give away more.  And then He gives you more.  To give away more.  God is an unfailing fountain of good.  You are His conduit, His pipe.  The gifts flow through you and to your neighbor and you both enjoy God’s abundance.  But even this, the wealth and the stuff God gives, is not the treasure.  The treasure is the forgiveness and life He gives in Christ.  Heaven is where we’ll relax, eat, drink, and be merry.  And here at Church, where heaven meets earth, we relax in the Word and eat and drink the Supper and we’re merry with praise toward God.  But so also, here, now, we have work to do, because our neighbor is in need.  God has given us provision to provide for our neighbor.  Do it and rejoice.
            The rich man was a fool, for he spent all his time and energy in laying up treasure for himself, but that very night death robbed him of his wealth and it all went to someone else.  There is a way, though, to save up wealth that lasts for eternity, and this kind of saving takes a wisdom alien to our nature and reason.  You want wealth that lasts forever?  Give it away now.  That’s the way it works in the Kingdom of heaven.  The first shall be last, and the last first.  The exalted shall be humbled, and the humbled exalted.  The hungry shall be filled with good things, and the rich sent empty away.  He who would save his life will lose it, but he who loses his life for Jesus’ sake and for the Gospel will save it.  It’s the great reversal.  It is death and resurrection.  God uses what is foolish to shame the wise, what is weak to shame the strong.  Tax collectors and sinners go into the Kingdom before Pharisees.  Jesus dies and sinners live.  He gives up His life and the Father gives it back to Him for all eternity.  Christ is risen.  The filthy are made clean, the unrighteous are justified, declared righteous for the sake of the Crucified and Risen One.   

            St. Paul tells us in our Epistle to think on that.  “(S)eek the things that are above,” he says, “where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.  Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Col. 3:1-2).  Why?  Because “you have died” … That’s what happened in your Baptism.  You died with Christ.  And you’ve also been raised to new life in Him, but “your life is hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory” (vv. 3-4).  Christ is your life.  Christ is your glory.  All your riches are in Christ.  So, rich or poor by earthly standards, you are rich in the Lord.  And think about these things.  God has never yet failed to provide for you.  You’re here, aren’t you?  You’re alive.  You’ve been fed and clothed and sheltered.  And in Christ, all things are yours.  That is what St. Paul says in another place (1 Cor. 3:21-23).  Your brother, the world, may refuse to divide the inheritance with you, but in the end, it all goes to you.  It is the Christians who will inherit the earth.  Those in charge now are operating on borrowed time.  Jesus is coming back, and then everything will be set right.  But there’s more.  All these things will be renewed on that Day.  They will be recreated.  You will be recreated, refashioned into the image of God once again.  And since all this is true, think how silly it is to covet the stuff of this earthly life.  Imagine a prince envying the possessions of a beggar.  That’s what it is when we live for the stuff of this world.  But you don’t have to do that.  Your life does not consist in the abundance of your possessions.  Your life consists in this, and this alone: Christ possess you.  He bought you with His own blood.  All things are yours, and you are Christ’s, and Christ is God’s (vv. 22-23).  Set your mind on this, and let God worry about the rest.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.              

Tuesday, July 26, 2016

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost (C—Proper 12)

July 24, 2016
Text: Luke 11:1-13

            “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1; ESV).  Teach us, for we know not what or how to pray.  Our prayers are weak and inadequate.  The words of our unclean lips and the desires of our unclean hearts are unworthy of Your divine majesty.  And when You, in Your mercy, answer our prayer anyway, we are not pleased with Your answer.  You do not do our will in heaven as it is done on earth.  And we don’t like it.  Not one bit.  Therefore, You must teach us to pray.  You must open our lips, that our mouths declare Your praise.  You must give us the words.  And You do.  You give us Your prayer.  And in that prayer is included every need of body and soul, for time and for eternity.  By that prayer, because it is Your prayer, Your Word, You bestow Your gifts.  You grant the faith to speak it in confidence and receive Your answer with thanksgiving.  You bring our fallen will in line with Your holy will.  You bestow Your Kingdom in bread for the belly and Bread that is Your Body, in the forgiveness of sins and defense against temptation and evil.  Your prayer is the perfect prayer, and You give us poor sinners to pray it.  And in it You place us before God as our FatherFather, You teach us to call God.  As dear children ask their dear Father.  For that is who we are, and that is who He is.  Baptized into Your death and resurrection, made one with You by water and the Word, God’s own child, I gladly say it!  Baptism bestows the right to call God “Father,” and to address Him as little children learning our first words.  “Lord, teach us to pray.”
            “Father” is a faith word.  It is the key word in our text.  It is a confession that God is for us and not against us.  It is a confession that God delights in our prayers, loves to hear them, and will always answer them.  And it is a confession that God will answer in a way that is good for us, in such a way that His Kingdom comes and we are saved.  God is a better father than I am, and yet I, being evil, still have some experience giving good gifts to my children and withholding things that will hurt them.  Now, there is nothing in the whole world my children cannot ask me.  That is what it means that they are my children, and I am their father.  They can ask me all their needs and desires, and they should.  And I should hear, and I should answer.  But it often happens with children that they ask for ridiculous things, and so also it often happens that they ask for things that will hurt them.  They’re kids!  They’re very smart kids, and they don’t want to ask for things that are ridiculous or may hurt them.  But the fact remains, I know what is good for them, and what is bad, and they don’t know.  Because I am the father, and they are the children.  So, many times they ask, and I say “no.”  And they don’t like that word, do they?  They think that word is bad, and that my will for them is bad, and that I’m against them, and not for them.  The truth is, though, just as I will not give them a serpent if they ask for a fish, neither will I give them a serpent if they ask for a serpent.  Because even I, being evil, know that will hurt them.  And if that is true for me in relation to my children, how much more will our heavenly Father withhold what is harmful (or just ridiculous), and instead give the Holy Spirit, faith, the very Kingdom, and every good gift to those who ask Him? 
            We’re the kids, guys!  Our Father knows, and we do not know, what is good and what is evil.  Adam and Eve thought they could know good and evil for themselves, and look what it got them.  Look what it got us.  Sin.  Rebellion against God.  Death.  Hell.  That is what Adam and Eve chose when they got to do their will.  And that is what our will apart from the Spirit chooses, every time.  So when the Father says “no,” it is a good thing.  He’s protecting us.  He’s providing for us.  He’s loving us.  And we throw our temper tantrums, as children do, and God disciplines us, as good fathers do.  Not punishment.  Discipline.  Teaching.  “Lord, teach us to pray.”  And notice that the things Jesus teaches us to pray are the opposite of things we choose on our own, apart from the Spirit.  Jesus teaches us to pray for the hallowing of God’s Name, that we keep His Name holy.  To pray that His Kingdom come, not that we get to be king.  To pray for daily bread, for the things we need for body and soul, not for great wealth and possessions.  To pray for the forgiveness of sins, which is a confession that we are not worthy of things for which we pray, and to commit ourselves likewise to forgiving.  And to pray for defense against temptation, defense against the very things after which our flesh runs with reckless abandon.  We’re praying against ourselves in the Lord’s Prayer, against our old sinful nature, and for ourselves as the new creation in Christ that daily emerges from the baptismal water to live before God in Jesus, and in the Spirit.  Luke, by the way, gives us the short version of this prayer.  For the full version, you’ll have to look in Matthew.  But notice how whichever version you’re looking at, it includes everything God promises in Scripture.  That is why we don’t have to pray it with conditions, like “if it be Thy will.”  The petitions are terse.  Demanding, even.  But we pray them confidently, because these are the Words Jesus has given us to say to the Father.  And there is the Promise: He loves to hear it.  He will answer.  To this prayer, His answer is always and unequivocally “Yes!”  Just ask, seek, knock.  You will always receive, find, and enter the Kingdom through the open door that is Christ Himself.
            And what about our other prayers?  I’ve been with several of you this week who are going through some pretty tough things.  We’ve prayed, as our Lord commands, and we know He has heard our prayer, as He promises.  Some of the things we’ve asked, He has not given.  What does this mean?  What are we to do with that?  Does this mean God is against us?  Has He actually, for the first time in all eternity, failed to act for our good?  Our Lord’s prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane is instructive here.  He prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done” (Luke 22:42).  And what is the Father’s answer? … The cross is the Father’s answer.  He does not take the cup from His Son.  Jesus must drink the cup of God’s wrath for our sin down to its very dregs.  It is God’s will.  God was against Jesus on Golgotha, His own beloved Son.  He was against Jesus who bore our sin, our rebellion, our will so stubbornly opposed to His own.  He was against Jesus in order to be for us.  And see, look what good God accomplished by bringing the ultimate evil upon His Son.  The cross was not some sadistic and arbitrary act for God.  It served a purpose; namely, the forgiveness of sins for the whole world and the salvation of all who believe it.  And even Jesus Christ, the Son of God, through His suffering and death has been exalted.  He did all this for the joy set before Him, the joy of saving you and making you His own and bringing you into His Kingdom.  And He is risen from the dead, ascended bodily into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of the Father.  There He rules all things.  For you.  What great glory.  And He’ll bring you there to reign with Him.  And He’ll raise you bodily on the Last Day.  That is the good our Father accomplished by giving His Son into death on the cross.

            And if that is what He has done with Jesus’ cross, that is what He will do with the crosses He lays on you.  This call situation is not what many of you wanted, and you will hurt and be sad, and so will I.  There are among you some dealing with the death of a loved one or your own mortality.  There are some dealing with other great pain and loss.  These things are crosses to be borne in faith.  Not for your salvation, for that is complete in Jesus, but because God is working these things to Your greater good.  And like children, you don’t understand the things your Father is doing.  You experience them as bad, though your Father knows they are good.  He has given them because He loves you.  So what are you to do when God lays a cross upon you?  Jesus teaches you what to do.  He gives you words to say.  You are to address God as “Father,” and pray the prayer the Son teaches you.  And then you receive His answer right here in the Means of Grace, in the Word of God and the Holy Sacrament.  That is how God’s Name is hallowed.  That is how His Kingdom comes.  Here is the Bread of Life you really need, the Body of the Lord.  Here is the forgiveness of sins and shelter against temptation.  Here at the font.  Here at the pulpit.  Here at the altar.  Here where Jesus is for you, here where your Father gives His Spirit.  Your Father will give you a cross, but never a serpent or a scorpion.  Trust Him on this.  He is always working what is best for you.  He does all things well.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.            

Sunday, July 10, 2016

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost (C—Proper 10)

July 10, 2016
Text: Luke 10:25-37

            We all know what this parable means.  Don’t be mean, like the Meany McMean Pants priest and Levite, who have neither the time nor the compassion to help a brother in need, but get over into the far lane to pass by safely and go merrily on their way.  Be like the Samaritan.  He’s a good fellow.  He’ll always stop to help.  The camping club to which some of you belong depicts him as a disembodied head with a halo.  You’ll note that is not on our bulletin cover.  We call someone a good Samaritan when they stop along the freeway to help change a flat tire, return a lost dog, or help an old lady across the street.  Those are all wonderful things to do, and I hope you do them.  But do you see what we’ve done?  We’ve made this parable all about me and the good things I can do to make God smile.  Really, we’ve reduced our Lord’s teaching to the simple moralism: always be helpful.  This is how the parable is proclaimed from most pulpits, and taught in most Sunday School classes.  And if, after ten years with you, you think that is the right interpretation, I have utterly failed as your pastor.  This misses the whole point.  The Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ has nothing to do with encouraging you to be nice.
            The parable is about Jesus!  And it is about what Jesus does for you when He comes upon you beaten, naked, dying, and dead in your trespasses and sins.  We always want to identify with the hero in the story.  You can’t do that with this parable.  If you do, you’ll think changing tires and camping make you a good Christian.  That’s not it, guys.  Here is how it is.  A man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho.  It’s never good in the Bible when you go down.  Especially from Jerusalem, the Holy City where God dwells in the Temple.  And especially to Jericho, that cursed city conquered by the Israelites long ago when they came into the Promised Land, the one where they blew the trumpets and the walls fell down and Joshua declared that whoever rebuilds it would lay the foundation at the cost of his firstborn, and set up its gates at the cost of his youngest child (Josh. 6:26).  And so it was for Hiel of Bethel hundreds of years later, who lost his firstborn Abiram as he laid the foundation, and his youngest, Segub, as he set up its gates (1 Kings 16:34).  So Jericho has a reputation to say the least.  The man in our text is going down from Jerusalem to Jericho.  We might say something like, “the man is going down from the Church for a good time in Vegas.”  And he fell among robbers.  Notice the perils of the journey down from what is holy to what is unholy.  Who might the robbers be in the story?  The devil?  The world?  Your own sinful flesh?  And what happens?  They strip him naked.  That’s what happened to our first parents when they fell into the clutches of the devil in the garden.  Remember?  They looked down and they were naked and ashamed.  They covered it up as best they could, fig leaves and all, and they tried to hide, but the damage was done.   They were exposed…  Those robbers stripped the man and beat him to a pulp.  As sneaky and enticing as our three main enemies can be, they never leave us unharmed.  The odd thing is, we often like the beating at the time.  And we don’t even notice the robbery… of our life.  Of our faith…  They leave us a bloody mess, half dead, soon to be carrion for the vultures, the demons, the rotting creatures of hell.  You are not the Good Samaritan in this story, beloved.  You are the wounded sack of flesh and bones on the side of the road.  Helpless.  Hopeless.  Dying.  Dead.
            And now, what about the priest and the Levite?  It’s not that they’re just big meanies.  They might be really nice guys, and they’re certainly morally upstanding citizens, good Christian folk.  It’s not even that they don’t want to help, but that’s just the point.  They cannot help you.  The priest and the Levite stand for God’s holy Law.  The Law of God is good and wise.  It is righteous and pure.  And if you can keep it perfectly, you will live.  But what can the Law do for a sinner?  It can only accuse.  It can only kill.  It can only damn to hell.  So I suppose we should be relieved that the priest and the Levite pass by on the other side instead coming over to us to finish us off. 
            But then Another comes down the road.  He is not holy in the way of the priest and the Levite.  That is to say, His holiness is not in the eyes of men.  It is no mere outward keeping of the Law.  It is something much deeper.  It is His very essence.  Now, in this way, the Samaritan offers a good illustration.  It would never occur to a Law-abiding Jew that a Samaritan could be holier than a priest or a Levite.  We speak of the Good Samaritan, but a Jew would never call a Samaritan “good.”  The Samaritans were hated.  They were the unfaithful remnants of the 10 lost tribes of Israel, intermarried with the nations and idolatrous, unclean, sinners.  Jesus is not a Samaritan, but that didn’t stop the Jews from saying, “Are we not right in saying you are a Samaritan and have a demon?” (John 8:48; ESV).  Not just a Samaritan, but a demon-possessed Samaritan, they called our Lord, so consuming was their hatred for Him.  Isaiah said it long ago: “he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.  He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not” (Is. 53:2-3).
            But it is the despised and hated Samaritan who comes upon the man and has mercy, who binds up his wounds and pours on oil and wine, who sets him on his own animal and brings him to an inn and personally tends to him.  And when he must go away the next morning, he pays the innkeeper to tend the man, with a promise that he will return and repay the innkeeper for any added expense.  And so it is the despised and hated Jesus who comes upon you in your sin and death and has mercy on you, who binds up your wounds and anoints you with the oil of the Spirit in the water of Baptism and gives you to drink of the wine of His blood.  He picks you up and brings you to an Inn, Holy Church, and He tends your wounds, and He charges an innkeeper, your pastor, to care for you.  And there is the promise: He will come back for you.  He will see your healing all the way through.  And to the innkeeper there is the promise: “I will repay you when I come back” (Luke 10:35).  The final healing for all your wounds, and the reward for a pastor’s faithful care, these things are given in the end, when Jesus returns and raises you from the dead and gives you eternal life in the New Creation.
            Jesus is the Good Samaritan.  Jesus is the Neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers.  Now, it is true, our Lord says at the end of the parable, “You go, and do likewise” (v. 37).  If we aren’t careful, we’ll turn this story back into a moralism: Be helpful… Be kind.  But remember, the lawyer who put Jesus to the test asked a Law question: “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (v. 25; emphasis added).  He was seeking to justify himself, to clothe himself with fig leaves.  Well, ask a Law question, get a Law answer.  It’s really quite simple.  Have mercy, like Jesus.  Perfect mercy.  Love perfectly, like Jesus, from your heart.  Rescue your enemy, who hates you and wants to kill you, from what otherwise would be certain death. And give yourself and all you are and all you have for the healing of that enemy.  And do this all the time, all the way, no exceptions, no omissions, perfectly, from your heart.  All the way to Golgotha.  All the way to the cross.  All the way to death and hell, to spare your enemy from death and hell.  That’s what Jesus does.  Go and do likewise.  And you can’t, can you?  Not even the lawyer could do that.  Nor the priest, nor the Levite.  Only Jesus.  This is not a moralism, this is the mirror of the Law in all its gory truth.  The Law accuses you.  The Law kills you.  The Law damns you to hell.  And that is why your Good Samaritan, Jesus, must rescue you and care for you and bring you to the Inn.  That is pure Gospel.  Jesus does it.  Not you.  Jesus is the Good Samaritan.  Not you.  Jesus is the Good Samaritan for you. 

            But then, there is something else here for you to keep in mind.  Here you are, in the Inn, and your wounds are being tended and your ultimate healing is assured.  You’re still very weak.  The old sinful nature keeps popping up again to plague you.  He must be drowned in repentance.  But you have the medicine, the Gospel, that assures your recovery.  And so, it is true that ever so weakly and far short of the perfection of Jesus, you can begin to love your neighbor and have mercy on him.  Now, understand, you aren’t doing this to inherit eternal life, as the lawyer wanted to do.  You’re already in the Inn of the Church, and Jesus has promised to come back for you, so all of that is taken care of.  You already have eternal life.  No, you’re doing this because your neighbor needs you to do it.  And having received all of this love and mercy from Jesus, it just overflows in works of love and mercy for your neighbor.  That is always the way of faith.  That is always the way of the Christian life.  You can begin to give yourself up for your neighbor, as Christ gave Himself up completely for you.  You can die to yourself.  You can forgive and ask forgiveness.  You can give to missions and to charity.  Generously, even.  You can change flat tires and walk old ladies across the street and do good work at your job and be a faithful spouse, parent, or child.  And when you aren’t faithful (and you’ll never be, perfectly), nevertheless, there is the medicine.  There is Jesus in His Word and Sacraments.  There are the fruits of His cross.  There is Christ crucified for you, risen for you.  You don’t do anything for this.  Jesus has done it all.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.           

Sunday, June 26, 2016

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost

Sixth Sunday after Pentecost (C—Proper 8)

June 26, 2016
Text: Luke 9:51-62

            Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die” (The Cost of Discipleship, [SCM, 1959]).  What does he mean by that?  Well, it may mean your death quite literally, your physical death as a result of persecution against the one true faith of Jesus Christ.  As we know, many of our brothers and sisters elsewhere in the world risk and even forfeit their lives to be baptized into Christ.  They shed their blood for the Savior who shed His Blood for them.  For now there is not much risk of that here in America.  But that does not release you from our Lord’s claim on your life.  To follow Jesus means to die to yourself.  It means the death of your old sinful flesh, crucified with Christ and drowned in the waters of Holy Baptism.  It means the rejection of your fleshly passions.  It means hatred from the world, and maybe even from your own family members.  Salvation is absolutely free to you in Christ, but it is not cheap.  It cost your Savior His Blood and death.  And to follow Jesus, to be His disciple, to walk in His discipline, well, that is quite costly.  It is free to you, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. For what does it mean to follow Jesus?  It means to go the way He goes, and the way He goes is suffering and the cross for the sake of His neighbor… for you!  So for you to follow Him means you also have to march through Holy Week and Good Friday and Golgotha.  There is no other path to the resurrection and eternal life.  Now, don’t misunderstand.  Your suffering and death do not somehow make atonement for your sins.  That is all done already in the cross and death of Jesus.  What, then, is your cross all about?  There are many reasons concealed in God’s hidden wisdom, ways that He is making all things work together for your good, since you are called according to His purpose (Rom. 8:28).  But among other things, you are called to suffer for your neighbor, as Christ suffered for you.  That is to say, you are given as a sacrifice to your neighbor to speak the truth in love and the life-giving message of the Gospel to your neighbor, even if that speaking brings you rejection and suffering.  And you can do that because you know what awaits you when all is said and done: eternal life, heaven, the resurrection of the body, and the life of the world to come. 
            Look how Jesus sets His face to go to Jerusalem in our text (Luke 9:51).  He knows what awaits Him.  The cross and death.  But He is absolutely determined.  He will not be swayed.  He will not be turned aside.  Not by the rejection and ingratitude of those for whom He suffers.  Not by the misunderstanding and dissuasion of His apostles.  Not by the devil Himself.  Our Lord Jesus sets His face to go to Jerusalem, sets His face toward the cross, for you, because He is determined to save you.  Now, that is the preaching of the Gospel, our Lord’s determination to suffer and die for the forgiveness of our sins.  Our God wins the victory over our enemies, not by some glorious show of power and might, but by surrendering Himself to the death and hell of the cross.  And that is scandalous.  It is amazing, the hatred that preaching brings on.  It is demonic in nature, this hatred.  That is why it is so irrational and vitriolic.  That is why the media blames Christians for Islamic terrorism.  That is why nuns and Christian universities and various Christian institutions and employers must be forced to pay for abortions.  That is why Christian florists and bakers and photographers must be forced to participate in same-sex weddings, even though there are many other florists and bakers and photographers who would happily provide the same service without violating their conscience.  It doesn’t matter, because the Christians must be made to conform.  Which is to say, they must be made to reject Christ and His Word.  At all costs.  Even the cost of freedom of speech, freedom of religion, freedom of association, freedoms once held dear by the majority of Americans regardless of political persuasion.  Now they are encroached by politicians and government officials regardless of political persuasion.  And why should that surprise us?  Our Lord tells us right here that this is what we should expect.  He also shows us how to respond.  Speak the truth in love, and then suffer for it.  And rejoice that you are counted worthy to suffer for the Name of Jesus. 
            There are only two possible reactions to the preaching of Jesus and His cross.  There is either rejection, or there is faith.  Jesus sends messengers, preachers, ahead of Him on the journey, to make preparations for His reception.  And those in a certain village of the Samaritans reject Him outright.  They do not receive Him.  Why?  Because “his face was set toward Jerusalem” (v. 53; ESV).  It is not simply the customary hatred between the Samaritans and the Jews, though it certainly is that.  They are categorically opposed to our Lord’s determination to go to Jerusalem and accomplish the work of our salvation.  They don’t even understand it.  This hatred grows deep inside of them, out of their fallen hearts, where Satan reigns.  And so the demonic determination to reject Jesus and His disciples.  This is the crassest form of rejection.  But then there are the disciples themselves, James and John, brothers, Sons of Thunder, from Jesus’ inner-circle, and they ask, “Lord, do you want us to tell fire to come down from heaven and consume them,” those wicked Samaritans who have it coming (v. 54)?  We understand the sentiment.  But you see, in responding to rejection with wrath, the disciples also have rejected the Gospel of Jesus.  Why did Jesus come?  Why is He so set on going to Jerusalem to suffer and die?  For the sake of these very Samaritans.  He does not want them to suffer God’s wrath.  That’s just the point.  He comes to save them from it, to save the disciples in their misguided zeal, to save you from your faithlessness, your apathy, your casual faith, and your unwillingness to take up your cross and follow Jesus.  Our Lord sets His face to go to Jerusalem for you, for the forgiveness of all of your sins.
            And here we encounter the other reaction to Jesus and His cross.  Faith.  The thing about faith, though, is that it does not come naturally.  By nature, you will reject Jesus and the cross every time.  That is simply the reality that results from being a child of Adam.  It’s his fault.  He fell.  We fell in him.  Our wills are, by nature, bound to unbelief and rejection of God, until the Holy Spirit frees us from bondage.  Faith is a gift.  It comes to us from outside of us, from God Himself, bestowed in His Word and Baptism, and nourished by the Supper, by the Holy Spirit who comes by these means to give us faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, in whom we are reconciled to the Father.  The very preaching of the cross that provokes so much hatred and rage is the means by which the Holy Spirit brings you to faith.  It’s a mystery, isn’t it, why you react one way to the preaching of the cross, and another reacts a different way?  You believe as a result of the preaching and your Baptism into the death of Christ.  Someone else, perhaps even someone very similar to you, shuns the cross with horror.  So it goes.  We don’t know why.  We only know that you believe because of the grace of God and His work upon you.  So we give thanks, and confess, and suffer in hope and joy.
            Three particular fellows are singled out in our text for their encounter with Jesus.  We don’t learn whether any of the three rejects Jesus or follows Him, but we do learn what it will cost them if they follow Jesus to the cross.  The first man says he will follow, but Jesus reminds him that foxes and birds have better accommodations in this world than the Savior and His Christians.  Being a disciple of Jesus just may cost you the comforts and pleasures the best of earthly life has to offer.  Jesus calls the second man: “Follow me” (v. 59), but the man asks first to go bury his father.  Now, Jesus isn’t heartless.  It’s not that the man’s father is dead and he just wants to get through the funeral before he leaves.  It is that the man wants to wait until everything is just right in his earthly life before he makes the commitment to Jesus and His Gospel.  To this, Jesus responds, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead” (v. 60).  Let the unbelieving world take care of its own business.  The Gospel is the first priority.  There is nothing more important, and the time to believe and follow is now.  The third man simply wants to go and say farewell to his loved ones before he follows.  Jesus responds that “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (v. 62).  What happens when we follow Jesus is that we start to feel a certain nostalgia for the old life outside of Christ.  Remember the flesh pots of Egypt?  Maybe slavery to sin and death wasn’t so bad after all.  This kind of looking back can kill faith.  Repent.  Take up your cross and follow Jesus.  All the way to death. 

            For what awaits beyond the cross is resurrection.  Jesus Christ is risen from the dead.  And He’ll raise you.  So the Lord has called you to be His own, and in calling you, He’s bid you come and die.  It is a blessed death.  For that death is folded up in the death of Jesus.  And Jesus’ death is a death unto life.  His life is a life unto eternity and light and joy in the presence of God.  Be not afraid.  Jesus set His face to go to Jerusalem for you.  Set your face upon Him.  Keep your eyes on Jesus.  He will never forsake you.  Not even in death.  He will never let you go.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                  

Sunday, June 12, 2016

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (C – Proper 6)

June 12, 2016
Text: Luke 7:36-8:3

            “How beautiful are the feet of those who preach the good news!” (Rom. 10:15; ESV [cf. Is. 52:7]).  Jesus preaches the good news of sins forgiven to the woman in our text, and she adores His beautiful feet.  Quite literally.  That she is behind Him, and then at His feet, shows her great humility.  It is the humility of repentance.  She is a sinner, and she knows it.  She knows her need for this good news which Jesus brings and bestows upon her.  We are not certain what her sin is.  Could it be that “a lady of the city” is something akin to our designation, “a lady of the night”?  Whatever the case, she knows her sin quite well.  She weeps tears of sorrow for having offended her God.  And with those tears, she washes the feet of her God, her Savior, Jesus.  She lets down her hair, an act considered rather immodest in her society, but certainly not to the God who has numbered every hair of her head.  With that hair, she dries His feet, kisses them profusely in worship, and anoints them with expensive perfume.  How beautiful are the feet of our Lord.  They do not kick this sinner away.  They receive her worship, even as gracious Words pour from the lips of their Owner.
            Simon doesn’t like it.  Simon, the host, the Pharisee, seeing all these things, thinks to himself: “If this man were a prophet, he would have known who and what sort of woman this is who is touching him, for she is a sinner” (Luke 7:39).  But Jesus is more than a prophet.  He is God in human flesh.  He does know who and what sort of woman this is, that she is a sinner.  That is precisely why He does not refuse her.  He knows her sins better than she, who weeps for them.  He knows her sins so well that He has taken them into Himself.  According to the Law of Moses, in allowing her to touch Him, He has taken her uncleanness into Himself.  That’s just the point.  He takes it, that He might pay for it in His suffering and death.  Yes, He knows who this is, and what she has done.  And He knows what Simon is thinking.  “Simon, I have something to say to you” (v. 40), whereupon He tells this parable: A moneylender had two debtors.  One owed him five hundred denarii, a denarius being a common day’s pay.  Five hundred days’ worth of pay!  The other owed fifty, a considerable amount, but certainly much less than the one who owed five hundred.  But be that as it may, neither of them could pay.  So the moneylender forgave the debt.  He cancelled it.  He wiped the slate clean.  Unbelievable.  “Now which of them will love him more?” Jesus asks (v. 42).  And the answer is obvious.  But Simon knows he’s been caught.  “The one, I suppose,” he replies (you can almost hear the snarkiness), “for whom he cancelled the larger debt” (v. 43).  And he’s right.  He has judged rightly.  And now here’s the application.  This woman owes a great debt to God.  Her sins are many.  She has nothing with which to pay.  She could never hope to pay off her debt.  Not by any good work.  Not even by her worship at the Savior’s feet.  But God has wiped her slate clean.  He’s cancelled her debt.  He’s forgiven her much.  So she loves much.  She worships, not so that she might be forgiven, but because she has been forgiven.  She loves Jesus because of what He has done and is doing for her.  Clearly she is represented in the parable by the one who is forgiven much, therefore loves much.
            But who does the other character in the parable represent?  This must have grated on Simon, for the Savior’s implication is unmistakable.  The other character represents him.  Yes, Simon, you are the man!  You are perhaps clean outwardly.  But inside you are full of sin and death, a whitewashed tomb, as Jesus says elsewhere (Matt. 23:27-28).  The woman has led a life of manifest sin.  Her sin is obvious to all.  But she is no worse than Simon, than the other Pharisees, than the pious Christians sitting in the pews this morning, who perhaps live morally upstanding lives, but their hearts… If others could see into our hearts, know the desires of our hearts, hear our inner thoughts… We are just as sinful as the woman in our text.  We don’t like to admit it.  Perhaps we’ve even deluded ourselves, as had Simon, into believing we’re better than her, better than others.  If this is you, repent.  If you’ve ever thought, “That person over there really needs to hear this sermon,” repent.  This sermon is for you.  If you’ve ever railed against the moral failings and weaknesses of others without first examining your own life and removing the log out of your own eye by Confession and Absolution, repent.  Perhaps, like Simon, you think you only owe the 50 denarii, not the 500 of the woman.  But you still owe 50, and you can’t pay.  You can never hope to pay back the debt.  Not by any good work.  Not even by your worship of Jesus here at Church.  Jesus must take your debt, 50 or 500 or 5,000… Jesus must take your uncleanness, your sin, into Himself, to be paid by His blood.  That’s the only possible payment.  And He does it in His innocent suffering and death on the cross, for the woman, for Simon, for you.
            Whether you’re the woman or the Pharisee in our text, you have been forgiven much.  All your sins are forgiven.  And now follows your Christian life of love.  You love because He first loved you.  You love because you have been forgiven much.  The order is very important, here.  It is true, Jesus says, “her sins… are forgiven—for she loved much” (Luke 7:47).  This does not mean her love caused her forgiveness.  Rather, her forgiveness caused her love.  It is like saying, “It rained, for the windows are wet” (Buls).  The windows being wet didn’t cause the rain.  The rain caused the windows being wet.  And so the forgiveness given by Jesus caused the woman, causes you, to love much.  That means worshiping at Jesus feet, not that you might be forgiven, but because you have been forgiven. That means serving your neighbor in Christian love, providing for their bodily needs and confessing Christ to them, not to earn forgiveness, but because Jesus earned your forgiveness and has given it to you freely.  That means being generous with your time, talent, and treasures for the work of the Church, not because working for the Church and giving to the Church earns you points with God, but because God has forgiven you all your sins in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and declared you His own child in Holy Baptism.  Jesus paid your debt to God for sin.  He paid it in full.  You are reconciled to the Father.  God loves you.  You belong to His Kingdom.  Heaven is your home.  He will raise you from the dead on the Last Day.  Rejoice.  Weep, not only for sorrow over sin, but for joy in forgiveness.  And go love, because you can, because Jesus has freed you for this very thing.   Love and serve your families.  Sacrifice for them.  Work diligently in your vocations, serving your neighbor out of love for the Lord.  Participate in society.  Pay your taxes.  Enjoy God’s creation and take care of it.  Speak up for the defenseless.  Give to charity.  That’s the Christian life.  That’s the thankful and loving life Christ Jesus frees us to live by forgiving our sins.  And when you don’t live that life perfectly (and you won’t, because you can’t), there is Jesus, forgiving your sins, saying to you as He says to the woman, “Your sins are forgiven… Your faith has saved you; go in peace” (vv. 48, 50).
            Yes, the Lord Jesus says to you as He said to David through Nathan, “The LORD also has put away your sin” (2 Sam. 12:13).  He has put it away in His wounds.  You shall not die, for He has died in your place.  And He is risen, and reclines with you here at His Table with His risen Body and Blood.  Come and fall at His feet, those beautiful feet that were pierced for your transgressions.  Come and hear the gracious Words coming out His mouth.  Take and eat, this is my Body… Take and drink, this is my Blood… shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins.  He will not kick you away.  He will never do that.  He receives you.  Jesus receives sinners and eats with them.  Jesus receives you and feeds you for eternal life.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sunday, May 29, 2016

Second Sunday after Pentecost

Second Sunday after Pentecost (C—Proper 4)

May 29, 2016
Text: Luke 7:1-10

            It must be a high honor to have the Lord Jesus Christ marvel at your faith.  I wouldn’t know.  But this is an indication that there is something to learn here from the centurion.  Jesus says of him, “I tell you, not even in Israel,” not even among the Jews, not even within the visible Church and that nation of God’s own people, “have I found such faith” (Luke 7:9; ESV).  This man is a foreigner, a Gentile, and even worse, he works for the government.  What is it about his faith that causes Jesus to marvel?  More often than not, we probably interpret the text this way: What makes the centurion’s faith great is that he knows Jesus doesn’t even have to be present to heal.  “Just speak the Word, Lord, and my servant will be healed.”  That is certainly true, and that is part of it.  The centurion does not regard Jesus simply as a magician or miracle worker or great healer.  There is an implicit confession here that Jesus is God, or at least that He can harness the power of God, that He carries the authority of God.  Just say the Word, give the order, and the sickness will obey.  In this the centurion has us beat.  We think it would be better to see Jesus.  If we could just see a miracle.  If we could just talk to Him face to face.  Then we could know that He will rescue us.  The centurion believes without seeing, which is more blessed.  But there is even more to his faith than this.  The Jews who come to Jesus on the centurion’s behalf plead for him on the basis of his worthiness: “He is worthy to have you do this for him, for he loves our nation, and he is the one who built us our synagogue” (vv. 4-5).  “He’s a good guy, Jesus.  He does good things.  He deserves this.”  That is the basis of the Jews’ faith: The goodness of the person, based upon the good things he does.  But that is not the centurion’s faith.  The centurion’s faith confesses this: I am not worthy.  “Lord, do not trouble yourself, for I am not worthy to have you come under my roof… But say the Word, and let my servant be healed” (vv. 6-7).  By faith, the centurion recognizes that he has no worthiness, no righteousness, no goodness to plead before Jesus.  But he believes in Jesus’ goodness.  He believes in Jesus’ willingness and ability to help.  And he confesses the power and authority of Jesus’ Word: “But say the word, and let my servant be healed.”
            We learn what faith is from the centurion.  Faith is simply trust in Jesus to save.  Whatever the circumstances, whatever the affliction, whatever your background, whatever your sin.  Faith does not look to the self and your own worthiness, righteousness, or goodness.  Faith recognizes that you have no such thing before God, and so faith confesses your sins to God and clings to the Holy Absolution pronounced in the stead and by the command of Jesus.  That is to say, faith clings to the goodness of Jesus, who saves you in spite of you, forgives you in spite of you, loves you in spite of you, heals you in spite of you.  He does it because of Himself.  And He does it by His Word.  “Just say the Word and let your servant be healed, dear Jesus.”  And He does: “I forgive you all your sins, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit.”  Now, it is very important to recognize here that since this is true, that faith is not based on your worthiness, then it cannot in any way be your work.  Faith does not come from you.  It comes from God, as a free gift.  Faith is not something you drum up within yourself, deep down in your heart (oh, it’s scary deep down there!).  It comes from outside of you, from God, from the Holy Spirit, who bestows it on you in Baptism and preaching and the Sacrament of the Altar.  Faith is not intellectual knowledge or understanding, nor is it the ability to confess, though it certainly seeks these things and grows into them by the gracious work of the Holy Spirit.  And so we baptize little babies, and we believe that they believe, because faith is the gift that God bestows on them.  Just as baby believes in Mom, trusts Mom, looks to Mom for every good thing, even though baby doesn’t know the name “Mom” or have any ability to confess her goodness.  Mom is pure gift to baby.  And so is Jesus.  Faith simply trusts.  Faith simply receives.
            So faith is not about some quality in you.  Faith is all about Jesus.  Luther often used faith and Jesus synonymously, because if you have faith, you have Jesus, and if you have Jesus, you have faith.  Faith is all about the death and resurrection of Jesus for your forgiveness, life, and salvation.  Faith always looks to Jesus and His righteousness and life bestowed upon you freely.  Whenever you’re looking at yourself, that isn’t faith.  That’s navel gazing.  That is being curved in on the self, incurvatus in se is the theological Latin.  And it’s the very definition of sin, to no longer be looking to God, but looking at the self.  Like Adam and Eve in the garden, who, after sinning, looked down upon themselves, and for the first time found that they were naked, exposed, and ashamed.
            Well, needless to say, the devil has a lot of fun with this, always at our expense.  And it goes something like this: Being the good Lutheran that you are, you know that you’re saved by faith alone.  Faith alone, faith alone, faith alone, you’re always quoting the old Lutheran slogan, and I’m glad, because that means I’m doing my job as a pastor.  But there is a danger here, and the devil knows it well.  “What if you died tonight?  How do you know you are saved?” the devil asks you.  He’s very good at the old Kennedy Method of Evangelism.  And, of course, the old slogan rings in your ears, “Sola fide!  Faith alone!”  And so you answer, “I know that I am saved because I believe.  I have faith.”  It sounds like the right answer to your Lutheran ears, doesn’t it?  And I know what you mean, and so does every Lutheran in the building, and frankly, so does the devil, but that doesn’t stop him.  “Ah, yes, faith alone!” he says.  “You have faith.  Or do you?  Are you sure?  Do you have the right kind of faith?  Do you have enough faith?  Is your faith strong enough?  Because I have to tell you (I hate to bring it up), but I know what you’ve done, and I know who you are, and I know those deep, dark, dirty secrets you keep buried within you, the ones you never tell anyone, the ones you pretend not to remember, pretend God doesn’t know about.  Yes, those.  You see, that doesn’t look like faith to meChristians don’t do those kinds of things, or think those kinds of thoughts.  Maybe you’re not so full of faith, after all.  Maybe you’re not really saved.”
            Oh, he’s a tricky devil, isn’t he?  But he’s right, in this sense: If you’re looking at yourself, you aren’t going to see a Christian.  You aren’t going to see faith.  If you do, you’re a Pharisee.  Repent.  But if you don’t, do not despair.  Confess with the centurion.  “Lord, I am not worthy.  I am anything but worthy.  I am not worthy to have you come under my roof.  I am not worthy to have you hear my prayers or answer them.  I am not worthy to have you love me or save me or heal me or heal those I love.  I do not come to you on the basis of my worthiness.  I am not worthy.  But You are.  And You promised.  Say the Word, Lord.  Say the Word that delivers Your sin-atoning death and life-giving resurrection.  Say the Word that forgives my sins and washes me with Your Blood.  Say the Word that bathes me and breathes life into me and feeds me with the fruits of Your cross.  Say the Word.  For you are God, the only-begotten Son of the Father, and You have all His authority.  You say into the darkness, ‘Let there be light’ (Gen. 1:3), and there is light.  You say the centurion’s servant is healed, and so he is.  You tell Lazarus to come out of the tomb, and so he does, alive and well (John 11).  And so You say to me, ‘You are forgiven,’ and I am.  You say of bread and wine, ‘This is my Body, this is My Blood,’ and so it is, and with it You feed me and heal me, take possession of me and save me.  So just say the Word.  I am not worthy.  But You do all things well.”

            Faith looks not upon itself.  Faith looks always and only to Jesus.  You can have faith without ever hearing the word, “faith.”  Baptized babies are a case in point.  When faith looks upon itself it is always uncertain.  The devil knows that and he will exploit it.  But when faith is synonymous with Jesus, it cannot be shaken.  Beloved, rest in the sure things that are outside of you, the things of Jesus Christ.  How do you know you are saved?  Not because you believe, but because Jesus died for you, and Jesus is risen from the dead, and because He promised, and He cannot lie.  You know you are saved because of Jesus.  You know you are saved because you are baptized into Christ.  You know you are saved because Jesus says so in His Word.  You know you are saved because Jesus puts Himself into you in the Supper of His Body and Blood.  He becomes one with you, and you are one with Him.  You are not worthy, but Jesus is.  And He has the authority.  Jesus has spoken.  He has said the Word.  And it is so.  You are saved.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.           

Sunday, May 22, 2016

The Holy Trinity

The Holy Trinity (C)

May 22, 2016
Text: John 8:48-59

            “Blessed be the Holy Trinity and the undivided Unity.  Let us give glory to him because he has shown his mercy to us” (Liturgical Text from the Introit).  The Feast of Holy Trinity is different from other feasts and festivals in that it commemorates a doctrine rather than a particular event or person.  This morning we highlight our confession of the two great dogmas of the Church catholic (small c, not Roman, although Rome also confesses these).  “Whoever desires to be saved must, above all, hold the catholic faith… And the catholic faith is this, that we worship one God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity” (Athanasian Creed, LSB 319).  In other words, there is one God, and He is Three Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  That is the first great dogma of the catholic faith.  And this is beyond our comprehension.  There is no mathematical equation that can explain it.  Every illustration falls far short and will eventually land you in heresy, denial of the catholic faith.  If you think you understand the Trinity, you are in error.  This is not an article of faith to be understood, but to be believed.  “Therefore, whoever desires to be saved must think thus about the Trinity.  But it is also necessary for everlasting salvation that one faithfully believe the incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ” (LSB 320).  In other words, there is one Lord Jesus Christ, who is God from all eternity, the only-begotten Son of the Father, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity; but also man, who in time was conceived by the Holy Spirit in the womb of the Virgin Mary, from whom He received our human flesh and was born under the Law, fulfilled it for us, was crucified, suffered, died, and was buried, rose from the dead on the Third Day, ascended into heaven, and is even now seated in His human flesh at the right hand of God the Father Almighty, ruling all things in heaven and on earth, and that He has done all of this for us men and for our salvation.  That is the second great dogma of the catholic faith.  We confess these two great dogmas in the Athanasian Creed this morning, as we do also in a simpler way in the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds and the Confessions of the Evangelical Lutheran Church.  This is what it means to be a Christian.  We believe these articles.  There are many sects that claim to be Christian, but do not believe these two great dogmas, the Trinity and the Incarnation of our Lord, that have been believed and confessed by the holy Christian Church in every time and every place.  That is what the word “catholic” means, “according to the whole,” the whole doctrine believed and confessed by the whole Church.  If a Church does not confess this, it is not a Christian Church, whatever else it may be.   
            And so, the Feast of the Holy Trinity makes us uncomfortable, doesn’t it?  It’s not just the length of the Creed, and the length of the Service.  It’s the exclusivity of the confession that this God alone, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, is the true God.  And it’s the confession of these very technical and precise points of doctrine.  We don’t like it.  It’s too theoretical.  And it is, by definition, incomprehensible.  It gives us a headache.  We like things we can grasp.  And when we can’t grasp a thing, when we don’t have command over it, or when we have trouble directly applying it to some concrete circumstance in our lives, we dismiss it as irrelevant.  Which is simply to say, we’re totally self-obsessed.  We’re in love with ourselves.  We think it’s all about us… or to be exact, it’s all about me.  We like the sermon to be about us.  We want something we can take into our life to improve our marriage or our job or even cure our depression.  That’s what makes a sermon relevant, we think.  But when a preacher comes along with all this high-fallutin’ talk of Trinity in Unity and Unity in Trinity, we’re not quite sure where to hang it in our self-construction, and frankly, what does it even mean, anyway?  And so we do what self-obsessed human beings, particularly 21st Century Americans, always do with things we don’t understand.  We dismiss it as irrelevant to us.  And do you see what you did, there?  You dismissed God as He reveals Himself in Holy Scripture, as He reveals Himself in the flesh of Christ, as irrelevant.  Is this Sunday a tough one for you?  Get over it.  Get over yourself.  Repent. 
            Holy Trinity Sunday takes us out of ourselves and our self-absorption and gives us to ponder the ineffable mystery of the nature of God.  This is not something to be comprehended or understood.  That would be to put God in a box of our own making.  This truth is something to behold in wonder.  This is a reality in which to bask and delight and simply praise.  You are not God, and neither am I.  It’s okay that we don’t understand everything.  We live by faith.  And so, Trinity in Unity and Unity in Trinity.  God in the flesh of a little Baby born in Bethlehem.  God dead on a cross for you.  A man risen from the dead and seated at the right hand of God the Father, whom we worship as God.  How can these things be?  It is not for us to know the how, but simply to know as reality, because our gracious God has revealed it.  Blessed be the Holy Trinity and the undivided Unity.  Let us give glory to Him because He has shown mercy to us.
            And in reality, this is finally all about you.  Because God has made Himself all about you.  He shows mercy to us.  He does not remain a stranger, a great Other, infinitely separate from His creation.  Instead, He reveals Himself as our God, our Father who created us and sent His Son to be one with us, to redeem us and make us His own, a Father who loves to hear and answer our prayers, and who preserves us by His Spirit in His Word.  He reveals Himself in the flesh of His Son, Jesus, who was crucified for our forgiveness and is risen from the dead for our justification, in whom we have salvation and eternal life in heaven, who will raise us from the dead on the Last Day.  He reveals Himself in the sending of the Spirit who gushes out of Jesus’ wounds, proceeds from the Father and the Son, who teaches us and reminds us of all things that our Lord has taught us, who points us ever and always to Jesus and keeps us in the one true faith unto life everlasting.  There is nothing more relevant than our God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  He wrote His Name on you in Baptism, made you His own child, washed away all your sins.  He declares you forgiven in Absolution as He traces His Name on you again, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  He speaks Himself into your ears in Scripture and preaching, and He feeds you with all His fullness in the Body and Blood of Jesus.  How could there be anything more relevant than that?  It’s a matter of eternal life and death.  If you have this God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, you have eternal life.  If you don’t have Him, you die for all eternity in hell.  So I guess it’s okay that we spend a few extra minutes on the Creed today.
            The point is not that you understand it, but that you believe it.  Abraham believed God, and his faith was credited to him as righteousness.  Abraham longed to see the day of his Descendant, Jesus.  He saw it and was glad (John 8:56).  Faith is not the same thing as understanding, though, to be sure, it always seeks to understand more and more.  Faith is simply trust, trust that God is who He says He is and does what He says He does, that He saves us, as He has promised.  And that is what He does in Christ.  And if you know God in Christ, you know God.  If you know God in Christ, you know Him as your Father.  If you know God in Christ, the Spirit of God is in you.  If you know God in Christ, you have eternal life.  The Jews in our Holy Gospel were blood descendants of Abraham, and they prided themselves on their knowledge of God.  In fact, they thought they had Him pegged, they thought they understood Him.  But Jesus says to them, “you have not known him” (v. 55; ESV).  Because you cannot know God apart from Christ.  If you know Christ, you know the Father.  If you do not have Christ, you do not have the Father.  Jesus reveals the Father as your God who loves you and is for you.  The Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son, and the Spirit always points us to the Son, by whom we have access to the Father who loves us in His Son. 
            At this point you may wish you had an aspirin.  But you’re thinking too hard.  Just look at Jesus.  Just look at the Son of God crucified.  Jesus is all you need to know.  That is why God gives pastors.  To point you to Jesus.  To proclaim Christ crucified and distribute Him to you in the Supper.  That is why we have a vicar this Summer.  This is really a good day to install Vicar Gaschler.  He is here to learn and to teach us.  He is here to proclaim the one true God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  He is here to proclaim Christ crucified in every word he speaks and everything he does.  Pastors are servants of the Word.  The Word is the vehicle of the Spirit, who gives us Jesus, who gives us the Father.  Jesus says, “if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death” (v. 51).  To keep the Word means not only to obey it, but to hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it, to believe it, to treasure it, to read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest it.  Because the Word gives you everything you need.  And everything you need is Jesus. 

            So… heady stuff this morning.  But all good stuff.  The Trinity in Unity and Unity in Trinity.  One God, Three Persons, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.  One Jesus, Two Natures, Divine and Human.  God in the flesh, crucified for our sins and raised for our justification.  This is the holy catholic faith.  This is what the Word gives us.  And so we believe, and so we are saved.  “Blessed be the Holy Trinity and the undivided Unity.  Let us give glory to him because he has shown his mercy to us.”  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.