"This Mortal Body MUST Put On Immortality" (Sermon on 1 Corinthinas 15:51-57) | April 20, 2025

Sermon Text: 1 Corinthians 15:51-57
Date: April 20, 2025

Event: The Resurrection of Our Lord (Easter Day), Year C

1 Corinthians 15:51-57 (EHV)

Look, I tell you a mystery. We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, 52in a moment, in the blink of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. 53For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality. 54But once this perishable body has put on imperishability, and this mortal body has put on immortality, then what is written will be fulfilled:

Death is swallowed up in victory.
55Death, where is your sting?
Grave, where is your victory?

56The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. 57But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ!

This Mortal Body MUST Put On Immortality

It’s rarely a good idea to speak in absolutes. “This always happens…” “Every time…” “Never, ever…” All of those phrases are hyperbole. When working on a project, and it’s not quite working the way I had hoped, I’ve been known to utter the phrase, “Nothing ever works!” But is that true? Even in the moment, is that accurate? Probably not.

But this morning, my brothers and sisters, this morning is different. This morning is all about absolutes—absolute victory, absolute salvation, absolute confidence. And in quite a reversal, it would be deceptive not to speak in absolutes about what is going on around us today. Such language would hide the truth. Today is the certainty of all certainties. Today, our faith is not hyperbolic but trusting the reality of what God has done.

Let’s step back for a moment and get our bearings. How did we get to this morning? Why are we here? To answer that, we have to go all the way back to the beginning, to the creation of the world—the universe—at God’s command. God created human beings as the crown of his creation; everything else was in service to them, and they enjoyed fellowship and harmony with him. God made everything around us to facilitate that special relationship with human beings. Thus, they were created in his image, to see eye-to-eye with him.

This was the design. No sorrow, no sickness, no pain, no death—just a perfect life with God forever. And that was what our first parents experienced, until they didn’t.

God gave Adam and Eve all the blessings of the world, including tasks to do in tending to the created order around them. God even gave them an altar, a way to worship him and thank him. He had given them everything, and their way to say thank you was simply to not eat fruit from one specific tree in the garden where they lived.

However, God didn’t create robots who were programmed to only do as they were told. What truly loving relationship has ever come about by compulsion? That’s not the way that works. So, in order to truly express their love for God they had to be able to choose to not show that love, to be free to rebel against him, to be free to sin.

And that’s exactly what happened. Satan warped the singular command of not eating from that tree into a curse rather than seeing it as the blessing it was. Eve and Adam were convinced that eating from this tree would actually be good. It would open their eyes and give them wisdom and understanding that they lacked. It would bring them into a world of experiences that God had kept from them. So they took, and they ate.

God had warned Adam that sin against this command would result in death. And so it happened that day. They instantly died spiritually. Where there had been loving harmony with God was now replaced with terror. And suddenly, the creation designed to endure forever was subject to decay and death. Adam and Eve’s lives would have an endpoint; they would die physically, as a consequence of their sin.

But that was not the truly terrifying death that God was talking about. The true punishment for sin was not spiritual death or physical death but eternal death in hell. Hell is being cut off from all the blessings of God, something no human being in this life has ever known. Even the most adamant enemy of God still benefits from his blessings in this life; even the person in the most dire of situations has some shine of God’s physical concern for him, even if it’s very difficult to see. But in hell, that comes to an end. Separation from God is the punishment, and it's worse than anything you and I could ever imagine.

Knowing God’s heart and God’s purpose for creating the world, especially human beings, it’s perhaps not surprising that this was not what God wanted for mankind. So right there in the Garden of Eden, right there at the site of the first sin, before God even gets into the consequences of their actions with Adam and Eve, the first thing that God says concerning them is a promise of a Savior, a Champion who would crush Satan’s head and fix everything that was broken.

Throughout the intervening centuries and millennia, God slowly revealed details about who this Savior would be and what he would do. From Abraham’s family, then narrowed down to Judah, then down to the line of King David. Born in Bethlehem, David’s city. And, as we heard on Friday night from the prophet Isaiah, one who would suffer a grievous punishment at the hands of the loving God because of mankind’s—our—sin.

And so it happened on that first Good Friday. Jesus was sentenced to death by crucifixion by Pontius Pilate because of his fear of a riot if he didn’t comply. But the focus there was not on the travesty of justice that such a condemnation was. This would be the tool, the way that God would make good on his promises. In this death, Jesus, true God and true man, would take on the sins of the world.

So the true suffering of Good Friday was not the scourge, thorny crown, nails, or even slow suffocation and dehydration. No, the true suffering of Good Friday was when God treated Jesus as if he were the only one who had ever sinned. There, Jesus was the only person in this life to truly experience hell, being abandoned by God. We can hear this agony as he quotes Psalm 22 from the cross, “My God, why have you forsaken me?” But it’s not really a question seeking an answer. Jesus knows the answer, and so do we. That hell, that abandonment, that was what we deserved. And God, in his mercy, pours it out on Jesus instead of us. Jesus, in his mercy, willingly and lovingly takes it on himself.

But none of this was really clear at the cross. Jesus’ death doesn’t look like a victory, even though it was. In fact, it looks very much like a defeat. To the uninformed and unenlightened, it just looks like a guy who got a raw deal and lost his life because of it. It’s not clear that this was the payment for sin, nor is it clear that it worked.

Which brings us to this morning, and why Easter is the highest festival of the Christian faith. Our faith is built on Jesus as the only and complete Savior from sin. And Easter is the proof that he is. If Jesus had stayed dead, his death would have been the same as every other person’s death. Good Friday would have been a tragedy and nothing more. But through the lens of the empty tomb, we can see the cross for what it truly is: the victory over sin, death, and hell.

Jesus’ physical resurrection from the dead is proof beyond a shadow of a doubt that your sins are forgiven, that eternal life rather than eternal death waits for you after this life. This confidence is what Paul is building on in our second reading this morning. 1 Corinthians 15 has been nicknamed the “Great Resurrection Chapter” of the Bible because Paul spends so much time discussing the importance of Jesus’ resurrection. Earlier in the chapter, he focuses on the necessity of it, and how if Jesus hadn’t risen from the dead, our faith in him would be futile because it would mean that we were still in our sins.

But having established that Jesus did, in fact, rise from the dead, Paul stresses the results of Jesus’ resurrection in our reading for this morning—namely, our own resurrection from the dead at the end.

Paul simply describes the Last Day this way: Look, I tell you a mystery. We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed, in a moment, in the blink of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we will be changed. At Jesus’ return, the final trumpet will fill the air, and all those who have died will be raised to life. And for the believers in Jesus, a great change will happen. The dead will be raised imperishable. What had been the very definition of perishable—corpses in the ground—will be raised in a completely different state from how they were placed there.

Paul stresses not just that it’s going to happen, but speaks in absolute terms that it is absoultely necessary that this happen, “For this perishable body must put on imperishability, and this mortal body must put on immortality.” Why is this necessary? Because this is the result of Jesus’ victory over sin, death, and hell. Death was the result of sin. Now that sin is undone and we have been forgiven, the grave has no claim on any of us, just as it had no claim on Jesus. The resurrection of the dead is just as much a natural outcome of Jesus’ death and resurrection as a quenched thirst is the natural outcome of cool drink of water on a hot day. It is inevitable relief and rescue. And nothing can change that.

Death has such an enormous impact on our lives. We lose cherished house plants, beloved pets, and most severely, our loved ones who have departed before us. It feels like the sole thing that is absolute and inevitable in this life is death. But Jesus’ resurrection brings confidence that allows us to even turn on death itself with disdain and ridicule. Paul does just that as he quotes from the prophets Isaiah and Hosea: Death is swallowed up in victory. Death, where is your sting? Grave, where is your victory? Because of Jesus’ resurrection, we can laugh death right in the face. This bully, who has tormented this world since the first sin, has been defeated. Death flees at the very sight of our victorious Savior. Not so tough now, are you, death?

Paul explains the mechanics of all this: The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ! The law results in sin for us because we cannot keep it perfectly; sin results in death as the punishment for our disobedience. But Jesus not only wiped out every sin we’ve ever committed at the cross, but he gives us his perfect life; he credits his perfection to our account so that, from God’s perspective, you and I are perfect. We have everything we need to enter eternal life. And not an ounce of it came from us; it all comes from Jesus and his loving work in our place!

Because of Jesus, your mortality must put on immortality, your perishable self must be wrapped in the imperishable. That is the meaning of the cross and the empty tomb—eternal, perfect life with our God forever, when God finally calls us out of this corrupted world of sickness, sorrow, and pain.

There is no question that this will happen; the empty tomb proves the promise! I think Jesus probably said it the best—simple and to the point, “I will not leave you as orphans. … Because I live, you also will live” (John 14:18-19). Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

"Jesus' Curse Is Our Redemption" (Sermon on Galatians 3:10-13) | April 18, 2025

Sermon Text: Galatians 3:10-13
Date: April 18, 2025
Event: Good Friday, Year C

Galatians 3:10-13 (EHV)

In fact, those who rely on the works of the law are under a curse. For it is written, “Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the book of the law.” 11Clearly no one is declared righteous before God by the law, because “The righteous will live by faith.” 12The law does not say “by faith.” Instead it says, “The one who does these things will live by them.”

13Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us. As it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.”

Jesus’ Curse Is Our Redemption

Tonight’s service is difficult. It is challenging to try to find a balanced tone within ourselves. We are here to observe something tremendously sad—yet from which all of our hope and joy flow. So, how do we hold both the sadness of Jesus’ death and the comfort that this death paid for our sins? How do we balance the sadness that Jesus suffered hell on the cross and the blessing that he did so for us, so we will never face it? We can try to finesse it, but the reality is there is no “correct” tone for tonight. Sadness and joy sit beside each other tonight as the Son of God gives up his life.

But the best way to honor what is happening here is to understand it, appreciate it, and even proclaim it. In many ways, the apostle Paul is doing that in our Second Reading for this evening. He sets Jesus’ curse alongside our redemption and allows both to exist. He invites his readers to sit with that tension; so shall we.

Understanding the context in which Paul is writing will help us understand his points. His letter to the Galatian Christians is probably one of (if not the) earliest of his letters recorded in the Scriptures. He’s writing to address a severe problem plaguing the churches in this region of modern-day Turkey.

These are the early days for the fledgling Christian church, maybe as few as 15-20 years after Jesus completed his work. The gospel is beginning to go out into the world as Jesus said it would. But, something else is accompanying it, something that is always a danger alongside God’s true teaching, which Jesus warned about: distorting error.

This early error was especially dire. People were coming to these brand-new Christian churches and wrapping their false teachings in a cloak of truth. It would essentially go something like this: “Yes, Jesus’ work for you is necessary. It is so important! But in order to benefit from that work, you need to keep the law God gave to Moses.” This group became almost obsessed with God’s command to circumcise males in the believer’s family, so they were often referred to as “the circumcision group.”

You can spot the problem with this teaching immediately, especially if you were here last night for our Maundy Thursday service. Last night, we drew comparisons between the old and new covenants. The old covenant referred to God's two-way agreement with Israel that he would bless them IF they kept his laws. And we know how that went… not well.

If we are unable to keep the law, what does tying Jesus’ forgiveness to obedience to that law do? It undermines the entire gospel. It sets up a false, misleading dream that God gave his law so that we could redeem ourselves from our sins and rescue ourselves from the punishment we deserve. The problem is that the law must be obeyed perfectly if it is going to be a blessing for us. And we haven’t done that. Our failure to be perfect is the reason we are here tonight; it’s also the reason Jesus is here.

Paul minces no words when addressing this false teaching that places obedience as a prerequisite for forgiveness. Do you think that you will be blessed by being circumcised or keeping any of the other laws that God commanded through Moses? Well, those who rely on the works of the law are under a curse. For it is written, “Cursed is everyone who does not continue to do everything written in the book of the law.” About a year or two before Paul wrote this letter to the Galatians, James wrote in his New Testament letter, “Whoever keeps the whole law but stumbles in one point has become guilty of breaking all of it” (James 2:10). Nothing but flawless obedience to the law brings blessing. Hence, anyone relying on obedience to the law to earn good things from God accomplishes the opposite; that person is under a curse rather than blessed.

This helps to explain what was happening that dark, first Good Friday afternoon. Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us. As it is written, “Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree.” Jesus is taking the curse of the law into and on himself. This is such a sad scene, not because of Judas’ betrayal, the Sanhedrin’s unbelief, Pilate’s spinelessness, or even the cruelty of those who enjoyed looking at this suffering. No, this is such a sad scene because the only one who never deserved to be cursed by God is cursed by the law he had perfectly kept.

And why is this happening? We heard it in Isaiah earlier in our service, “It was the LORD’s will to crush him and allow him to suffer” (Isaiah 53:10). Notably, Isaiah is clear that this was the all-capital-letters LORD’s will to crush him. This is not the action of God’s anger or justice. The emphasis in this action to crush the Messiah and allow him to suffer comes from God’s love, mercy, and compassion. How? Because the LORD who willed this is the one nailed to that cross. There is no mistake here, no wrongful condemnation, no hiccup in God’s plan—this is and always was the plan. Elsewhere, Paul describes this scene this way: God made him, who did not know sin, to become sin for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in him (1 Corinthians 5:21).

My brothers and sisters, what is this wondrous love? How can we even put this into words? It’s difficult, which is probably why even God uses so much variety in describing this rescue mission that is happening before us. That word that Paul uses, redeem, has this glorious picture of buying someone or something to put in back in its rightful place. This redemption is a ransom. The price is the blood—the very life—of the Son of God. Priceless, yet freely given.

We may leave here tonight feeling predominantly sad at what Jesus had to pay to rescue us. We may leave here tonight feeling predominantly grateful for our Savior's saving love and action. But let none of us leave here tonight feeling guilty over what our sins cost Jesus. Is it gruesome and horrific? Yes. Is it spiritual suffering the likes of which we cannot even process and will never see ourselves? Yes. But remember that you did not force Jesus’ hand. He didn’t have to do this; he chose to do this. So great is his love for you that he sought to rescue you from the depths of your sins, from the blackness of hell’s pit, to restore you and me as his brothers and sisters, children of our heavenly Father, the way we were originally created at the beginning. Toward the end of our service tonight, the choir will use the hymn writer’s words to summarize this well: See, from his head, his hands, his feet, sorrow, and love flow mingled down. Did e’er such love and sorrow meet or thorns compose so rich a crown? (Christian Worship #407, s. 3).

May our pride or boasting, our despair or terror, disappear at the cross. May we see Jesus as the solution to our eternal problem, who did so willingly and lovingly.  May we find in his love the strength and motivation to love others as we’ve been loved. May thankfulness motivate our obedience to him, not earning something from God but rejoicing in what we have already received. You live by faith, that God-given trust that Jesus has rescued you from sin. May that faith carry you through this dark night until the dawning of that glorious, victorious day that is just over the horizon. Amen.

"What Kind of Savior Do You Want?" (Sermon on Luke 19:28-40) | April 13, 2025

Sermon Text: Luke 19:28-40
Date: April 13, 2025
Event: Palm Sunday, Year C

Luke 19:28-40 (EHV)

After Jesus had said these things, he went on ahead, going up to Jerusalem. 29As he came near to Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of his disciples ahead, 30saying, “Go to the village ahead of you. When you enter it, you will find a colt tied, on which no one has ever sat. Untie it and bring it here. 31And if anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ you will say this: ‘The Lord needs it.’”

32Those who were sent ahead went and found things just as he had told them. 33As they were untying the colt, its owners said to them, “Why are you untying the colt?”

34They said, “The Lord needs it.”

35Then they brought the colt to Jesus. They threw their robes on the colt and set Jesus on it. 36As he went along, people spread their robes on the road. 37As he was approaching the slope of the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began to praise God joyfully, with a loud voice, for all the miracles they had seen, 38saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”

39Some of the Pharisees from the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!”

40He replied, “I tell you, if these people would be silent, the stones would cry out.”

What Kind of Savior Do You Want?

Have you been to a casual dining or fast food restaurant that has one of those CocaCola Freestyle soda machines? They’re these big machines with a huge touch screen on them, and if you want to drink soda, you have what feels like near-infinite options. But it allows mixing and matching even more than a traditional soda fountain because, in addition to the base sodas, you can add several different syrups flavors to your drink. So, if you’re not content with normal Diet Coke you can, with the press of a button, make it Orange Vanilla Diet Coke. And if you’re feeling brave, perhaps you add a splash of Dr. Pepper.

The Freestyle machines embody our desire for choices and options. Mix and match to find the right blend for you. I can express my individual preferences, and if they’re different from yours, that’s probably okay because you can just tap different buttons and fill your cup with something different.

Clearly, there’s no problem in having preferences on drinks, or food, or clothes, or whatever. But sometimes it is tempting to take that desire for individualism and apply that to other areas of our lives. Do I need to listen to my parents? Well, not if they’re telling me to do something I don’t want to or that I can’t do something I do want to do. Do I have to pay my taxes? Well, not if I don’t think the money is being used appropriately or I think the rates are wrong for me or others.

Of course, more than applying that to a drink with your lunch, applying this individualistic template to those areas of life will end in some pretty rough consequences at home and even with the government. But what about our faith? You have nearly infinite opinions regarding spiritual thought, and if you can’t find one that fits your personal preferences, you can chart your own course and follow that path! But is that the way spiritual needs and solutions work? Can you just walk up to the Freestyle machine of spirituality and press the right buttons, and dispense your spiritual “truth”? And if you did that, what would buttons would you push? What would be the mechanics of your faith system? What kind of Savior do you want—if any?

We’ve wrestled with this question throughout Jesus’ ministry, or at least puzzled over it with the crowds. What were they looking for in a Savior? Was it a bread king who could meet their day-to-day hunger? Was it a miracle worker who could heal their diseases? Or were all of those things building up to something more and bigger?

We do not have insight into the crowds’ thoughts on Palm Sunday, but here’s what we can say. When they call Jesus “the King who comes in the name of the Lord!” they are clearly identifying Jesus as the promised Messiah. Whether we think of the famous prophecy about Palm Sunday itself from Zecharaiah 9 where God promised that the king would come in riding on a donkey—on a foal of a donkey—or we think of Jesus as David’s Son, the King who would reign forever, there’s a lot in that title of “King.”

But what kind of Savior did they want? A King riding in on a donkey, despite the Zechariah prophecy, wouldn’t have been imposing. Typically, leaders would ride donkeys when they came in peace. Riding a warhorse means I’ve come to conquer; riding a donkey means I’ve come to make a deal or settle things without war.  But might there have been some confusion among the crowd, even amid their joy? We know that it was a long-held belief that the Messiah would be a political savior to restore the earthly glory to the nation of Israel. So, in this immediate context, it seems likely that many of the people cheering Jesus on would be doing so, assuming he would be using his power to get rid of the Romans and restore genuine autonomy to the nation. But, does someone who has come to do that make an entrance on an untrained, young donkey?a

The Pharisees were looking for something entirely different out of Jesus, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples!” If we’re going to put the best construction on this demand, they recognized that the crowd was calling Jesus the Messiah, and as far as they knew and believed, that was not true. And if it wasn’t true, Jesus would know how inappropriate that was and should want to stop the blasphemy in its tracks.

If we’re going to take a slightly more negative view of what drove the Pharisees’ demand, it would be that they could see this giant crowd forming and cheering just outside of Jerusalem and knew what that would look like to Pontius Pilate and the other Roman rulers in the area. This looked like a mob scene, the beginning of a riot. And if any whispers of someone’s hopes that Jesus would actually depose the Romans got to Pilate’s ears, it looked and sounded like something much worse—a coup. The reaction from Rome to such insolence would be quick and brutal, which is exactly what the Pharisees would have been trying to avoid for themselves and the people at large.

So the crowds might be looking for their bread king to feed the five thousand once again; they might be looking to have a Roman-free existence from here on out. The Pharisees might have been looking to defend God’s name and promises or to preserve their own hides.

What are you looking for from Jesus? What do you want him to be for you or do for you? Do you want him to patch up your strained friendships or family relationships? Do you want him to fix your money concerns or bring complete healing to that chronic physical ailment? Do you want him to bring peace among nations or within your community?

It is not out of the question that God might provide any or even all of those things. None of those requests would be out of place in our prayers—that God’s will be done in those matters. But if those types of hopes and dreams are the full extent of what we’re looking for from Jesus, if that’s the kind of Savior we want, we’re thinking way too short-sightedly. It’s so easy to lower our vision from God’s perspective to our own day-to-day perspective. So, this morning, our prayer is that God lift up our eyes beyond what is right in front of us and see what is for our ultimate good.

The kind of Savior you and I might want at any given moment ultimately doesn’t matter. What truly matters is that Jesus understood the kind of Savior we needed and fulfilled those needs precisely. There might be only one person amid this Palm Sunday confusion who knows what is happening here, but there is at least one: Jesus. He immediately demonstrates this in our Gospel by sending two disciples to fetch the donkey. He knew exactly where it would be, what attributes it possessed, what question they would be asked, and what answer to give. They found things just as he had told them.

So Jesus is going forward, not being swept up in the pageantry of this day nor being swayed by popular opinion of what he shoulddo; rather, he’s going forward on the mission that his Father placed before him. To put it bluntly, as we just sang in our hymn of the day, he’s “rid[ing] on to die” (Christian Worship 411, s. 5). Because no immediate term glory, no evident power awaits him at the end of this road. Only the cross, but only the cross for you.

This is where the conflict begins between what we can see and what is actually happening. Jesus rides in on a donkey; he rides in, looking all the part to be coming in peace. And as far as the people in Jerusalem are concerned—even the Romans!—that is true. But the most vicious battle waits for him at Golgatha, a battle for your soul and mine. There, he will face the full brunt of hell; there, he will have a final showdown with Satan. But as we said back in the Epiphany season, it’s not as if Satan and Jesus are more or less evenly matched; it’s not even close. This battle was over before it even started. Jesus will come out the other side the victor, and you and I will be conquerors along with him.

Our misguided notions about what Jesus should do for us will be crucified on that cross as well. Those, as well as all our other sins, will be forgiven in his blood shed, in his life given up for our justification.

It is fascinating to compare the words of the crowd to other words earlier in Luke’s Gospel that we are very familiar with. Luke records that among the shouts of praise from that Palm Sunday throng was this acclimation: “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” If we jump back many chapters in Luke’s Gospel, back to chapter 2, we hear words that ring with the same tones: There were in the same country shepherds staying out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified! … Suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude from the heavenly army, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward mankind.” (Luke 2:8-9, 13-14). The Christmas angels announced the purpose of Jesus’ arrival to the shepherds, and here, knowingly or not, the crowds reinforce that purpose.

While, yes, Jesus is preparing for a battle at the cross, it is a battle that will lead to peace. This will not solve the Jewish people’s issues with the Roman empire. It won’t end wars between nations, make families get along, or necessarily repair friendships. But it will bring a much more critical peace—an eternal peace between God and sinful mankind.

What kind of Savior do you want? What kind of Savior do I want? What does it matter? What we have is what we need: our gentle King rides into Jerusalem to save us from our sins, to save us from hell. By this time next week, we will see our confidence in Jesus proven right and displayed in glory before us. Getting there will be a rough road, but God will keep his promises. In the days ahead, let’s share this message, invite people to hear it, and praise God for his goodness to us. If we don’t, the stones would cry out, but given that we appreciate all Jesus has done for us, I know that will not be necessary.

What kind of Savior do you want? The one you have: Jesus, who rides on to bear your sins in his body and will bring you to the heavenly home he has prepared for you. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Look at What God Is Doing!" (Sermon on Isaiah 43:16-21) | April 6, 2025

Sermon Text: Isaiah 43:16-21
Date: April 6, 2025
Event: The Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year C

Isaiah 43:16-21 (EHV)
This is what the LORD says,
who makes a road through the sea
and a path through mighty waters,
17who brings out the chariot and the horses,
the army and the strong warrior.
They will all lie down together.
They will not get up.
They are extinguished.
Like a wick they go out.
18Do not remember the former things.
Do not keep thinking about ancient things.
19Watch, I am about to do a new thing.
Now it will spring up. Don’t you know about it?
Indeed I will make a road in the wilderness.
In the wasteland I will make rivers.
20The wild animals, the jackals and ostriches, will honor me,
because I am providing water in the wilderness,
rivers in a parched wasteland,
to provide water for my chosen people to drink.
21This people that I formed for myself will declare my praise.

Look at What God Is Doing!

“Hey, watch this!” Depending on who is saying those words, you might have different expectations of what you’ll see. If it’s a very young child, it might be some new-and-a-big-deal-to-them type of physical maneuver or something new they learned that aligns with their growth and development. If someone has been studying sleight-of-hand illusions, you might see something that seems impossible at first glance. And if it’s a layman working on the plumbing at the kitchen sink, perhaps you’ll see a great success or a wild failure as the water gets turned on. But in any case, you want to watch and see, either to encourage, be amazed, or know if you need to get the mop.

But what about when God says to you, “Hey, watch this!”? Depending on what you know about him or how you sense your relationship's health with him, you might be filled with excitement or dread. But certainly, if God is saying that we should look and watch, then we do well to look and watch. And that is exactly what God says to us today in our reading from Isaiah. He calls on us to bear witness to what he is doing because it is important—eternally important for us and for all people.

Our brief reading begins with all sorts of allusions to the exodus when God rescued his people from their slavery in Egypt. The exodus took place around 700 years before Isaiah’s ministry—roughly three times the length of the United States’ existence. So this happened a long time before this, but in Isaiah’s day, it ranked as the high water mark of God’s saving work. God is described as a God who saves with this language: who makes a road through the sea and a path through mighty waters, who brings out the chariot and the horses, the army and the strong warrior. They will all lie down together. They will not get up. They are extinguished. Like a wick they go out. This is a direct reference to the parting of the Red Sea, which enabled the Israelites to cross over the seabed on dry ground, and then the crash of the waters on the Egyptian army as they tried to pursue God’s people, to their destruction.

In other words, “Do you want to know who God is? Look at the exodus!” Notably, the all-capital-letters-LORD, God’s name of covenant love, is used here. He promised that he would rescue his people from their slavery, and through many miracles, plagues, and even the naturally-impossible parting of a large body of water, God did just that.

What does God say about this event by which glorified him as the saving God? He says, “Forget all of that because it’s going to seem like nothing compared to what I’m going to do. Do not remember the former things. Do not keep thinking about ancient things. Watch, I am about to do a new thing. Now it will spring up. Don’t you know about it?” As we said, when God says, “Hey, watch this!” we do well to pay attention! God is calling to us to look because, to paraphrase, “Ya’ ain’t seen nothing yet.”

So, what does God want us to see? “Indeed I will make a road in the wilderness. In the wasteland I will make rivers. The wild animals, the jackals and ostriches, will honor me, because I am providing water in the wilderness, rivers in a parched wasteland, to provide water for my chosen people to drink.” While roads running through barren lands and rivers appearing in the desert are interesting—useful, even—what is it about this work that makes it superior to the miraculous exodus? What about this could be considered “new,” from the God who created the world—desert and river alike—from nothing? Well, if he were talking about actual rivers in actual deserts, then, nothing. But this is something more, something bigger, something new.

God aims to bring relief and help to those in desperate need. He’s getting ready to bring life to something dead, like springs of water would be in the middle of a barren wasteland. He’s getting ready to do this new thing to save people from eternal death with eternal life.

This is not new because it was a secret no one had ever heard. Quite the contrary. God had been clear from the beginning that a champion was coming to rescue people from their sins. Elsewhere in his book, God gives remarkably clear prophecies and promises about this Savior through Isaiah. No, but it’s new because it’s something that had never been done before and would never happen again.

The life-giving water of forgiveness would be given to God’s people to drink, and there would be enough for every person who ever lived to satisfy their spiritual thirst. This the work that Jesus will embark on, to make the one-time, one-and-done payment for sins. This new thing would be God himself taking on our humanity, living among us, allowing himself to be sacrificed for us, and in doing so, paying for every misdeed and sin you and I have ever committed.

The reminder of the exodus ahead of the announcement of this imminent new thing is very helpful. If there was ever a time that it seemed like God’s promises couldn’t happen as he said they would, it would be the exodus. As his people left Egypt, the pharaoh had a change of heart and wanted his slaves back. He pursued the people with his army—armed warriors against a nation of just-released slaves. They had no weapons or defense force to speak of; they had no combat training. This group of two million people could probably have done very little to make a stand against the Egyptian military.

Add to that the location where the army caught up with the Israelites, at the shore of the Red Sea. They were hemmed in on all sides—water to one, the enemy army to the other. Rock, hard place. And so, what does God do? Whatever is necessary to keep his promises. The waters of the Sea part, the pillar of fire and cloud stands between his people and the Egyptians, and they cross over to safety and freedom, unscathed.

Nothing stands in God’s way when he’s made a promise. But I wonder how often we feel or think something is getting in God’s way regarding forgiveness. Perhaps the guilt we feel over sin—that conscience that won’t stop crying out about the condemnation it expects to face—makes it seem like this sin can never be dealt with, that we are doomed to perish in hell because we know that it is the just punishment for our sins.

Or maybe something else gets in the way; maybe we are in the way. Maybe our own lack of appreciation for what God has promised and done, our distractions and lack of focus on these immeasurably important eternal matters, or our general apathy with God’s work for us lead us to wander away from God with little regard for what that will mean for us eternally.

My dear brothers and sisters, look at what God is doing! Don’t let this pass you by, uncaring. Don’t look at it as if it is ineffectual to save you. This new thing in Jesus is God’s full and free forgiveness for you! You were parched, dying of thirst under the brutal sun and scorching winds of your sin, destined to eternal death in hell. And here God comes with this new thing, with himself in human flesh, to take your place. He gives you to drink from the cool waters of his love and his forgiveness. And this drink does not fail to revive. Nothing will prevent God’s mission to save, not Pharaoh and his army, not the depths of the Red Sea, not the multitude and severity of your sin or mine. Here, in this new thing, they are gone. Here, we have life instead of death, now and for eternity.

Over these next few weeks, in our worship on Wednesday evenings and Sunday mornings, and especially during the run of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter, we’ll see this new thing spring up. God promised the sacrifice of Jesus, and from it comes forgiveness that cannot and will not fail. The new thing that God promised is done. Your sins are forgiven. You have eternal life and perfect peace with your God as your certain possession.

In the days ahead, let us look and watch together as this new thing unfurls God’s love for us in Gethsemane, in the sham trials, at the cross, and even at his burial site. Amen.

"What Condemnation?" (Sermon on Romans 8:1-10) | March 30, 2025

Sermon Text: Romans 8:1-10
Date: March 30, 2025
Event: The Fourth Sunday in Lent, Year C

Romans 8:1-10 (EHV)

So then, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. 2For in Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death. 3Indeed, what the law was unable to do, because it was weakened by the flesh, God did, when he sent his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to deal with sin. God condemned sin in his flesh, 4so that the righteous decree of the law would be fully satisfied in us who are not walking according to the flesh, but according to the spirit.

5To be sure, those who are in harmony with the sinful flesh think about things the way the sinful flesh does, and those in harmony with the spirit think about things the way the spirit does. 6Now, the way the sinful flesh thinks results in death, but the way the spirit thinks results in life and peace. 7For the mind-set of the sinful flesh is hostile to God, since it does not submit to God’s law, and in fact, it cannot. 8Those who are in the sinful flesh cannot please God.

9But you are not in the sinful flesh but in the spirit, if indeed God’s Spirit lives in you. And if someone does not have the Spirit of Christ, that person does not belong to Christ. 10But if Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, but your spirit is alive because of righteousness.

What Condemnation?

You might hear a call for public condemnation in many places. Perhaps some public official does something that is deemed inappropriate, and so calls come from the public for others in office to denounce and condemn his actions. Perhaps a CEO’s misconduct will lead to condemnation from his company’s board. Perhaps a grassroots campaign will urge you to call your representatives in Sacramento or Washington to condemn some bill moving through the legislature. We’re familiar with condemnation, and even public condemnation, of misconduct or ideas that seem potentially dangerous, unwise, or misguided.

Condemning something means you’re pronouncing it useless because it’s rotten to the core. A house may be condemned if it is deemed unsafe for people to live in it. Condemnation is a term well-used to speak of God’s reaction to sin. He not only condemns it—speaks against it—but condemns it in the sense of punishing the person who committed the sin. In the way that the public official or CEO might lose their position because of condemned misconduct, so too the sinner is condemned along with his actions. Hell stands as the just condemnation for sin.

However, the parable Jesus told in the Gospel spoke of a different reaction to sin. How did the father in the parable treat both of his sons—the younger one who had wasted his father’s possessions and the older one who self-righteously looked down on his brother? The father treated them both with patience, love, and forgiveness.

Last week we heard the author of Psalm 85 assert so clearly that he knew who God is, what his nature is. He is not the God who remains angry forever or wants to boil people in his wrath. No, God is the one who is merciful and will restore his people. Even in their sin, God is not willing to give them up to what they deserve. Instead, he promised to and then did deal with sin in Jesus.

If you’ve been coming to our Bible class on Sunday mornings as we work our way through the book of Romans, you might remember the flow of thought that Paul has leading into the famous words of chapter 8, a portion of which is our Second Reading this morning. Early in the letter, Paul had condemned all people as guilty of sin. Whether they were Jewish or Gentile, whether they grew up around God’s Word or were completely ignorant of it, everyone is guilty of breaking God’s law and thus guilty of eternal condemnation. But, as Paul winds through chapters 3 and 4, he shows that we are saved by God’s goodness, that his righteousness is given to us not because of the things we’ve done but in spite of the things we’ve done. Faith clings to that forgiveness and receives it so that you and I are saved from hellfire in the same way that Abraham was so many years ago: faith—trust—in what God promised.

Then, Paul moves into our reaction to God’s forgiving love. Would it be right to treat God’s mercy with contempt? Would it be right to think, “Well, if God is going to forgive every sin, I should commit as many sins as possible!”? No! Rather, we want to serve God in thanksgiving for what he’s done. But in the latter part of Chapter 7, Paul takes us deeply into his own heart and mind. He is very vulnerable when he confides to the Romans, “I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not keep doing what I want. Instead, I do what I hate. … The desire to do good is present with me, but I am not able to carry it out. So I fail to do the good I want to do. Instead, the evil I do not want to do, that is what I keep doing” (Romans 7:15, 18-19). This is the plight of every believer—to have the desire to do good to thank God, yet never be able to carry it out to the level that we want and know that we should. Part of Paul’s closing to chapter 7 sums it up well: “What a miserable wretch I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25a).

You and I are both sinners and saints at the same time. The greatest of contradictions dwells deep, deep within us. It is so fundamental to who we are that we might not even be able to imagine a time without this conflict. Since God first put faith in our hearts, a spiritual battle has been raging inside us between our inherited sinful flesh and the new self that God has created in us.

And that battle is exhausting. Wouldn’t it be great to not have to fight it anymore? Obviously, for some, they don’t. They just follow their own heart, their wills, into whatever tickles their fancy. Maybe that’s helping others, maybe that’s completely self-serving, but it’s all done because that person thinks it’s the right thing for them. That alone is their rule and guide.

You and I know that feeling all too well. Even though we recognize the dangers in this line of thinking, we can be so quick to capitulate to our sinful natures, to give into temptations to sin against God, not because it’s the right thing to do, but because it’s the easier thing to do, or the more pleasure-filled thing to do, or the more popular thing to do, or the thing that seems best in line with my self-proclaimed-righteous anger, or whatever other shoddy justification I might spew out for my sin. In those moments, we show our talent for living as Paul describes, “Those who are in harmony with the sinful flesh think about things the way the sinful flesh does.”

But this dabbling with or fully embracing sin only leads to one destination: condemnation. Even if we did everything right from here on out, it would be far too little, far too late. God’s expectations aren’t that we have, on balance, more good than bad; his expectation is perfection. And once we’ve broken his law even once, we’ve ruined the law’s ability ever to produce good things eternally. Eternal good is what the law was unable to do, because it was weakened by the flesh. Do you want to earn God’s favor through a life well lived? Sorry, that’s impossible.

But maybe “sorry” is the wrong word. Because, in many ways, it’s good to know that we can’t do that. If we could, where would our confidence be? How would we know that we had done enough? Could we peer into God’s ledger to compare the amount of black to the amount of red on our account to see where we stand? No, it would be a distress that would only lead to hopelessness.

Why did Paul end chapter 7 of Romans saying, “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord”? Because Jesus is the solution to this. And Paul lays this out clear as day for the wrestling sinner-saint. You are not what you want to be, you are not what you should be, but Jesus was and is all that and more for you.

I want you to take a moment to see just how many gospel statements there are in the first four verses of our Second Reading. You could probably divide it up a few different ways, but six jump out to me: 1) “There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” 2) “The Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.” 3) “What the law was unable to do… God did.” 4) “He sent his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to deal with sin.” 5) “God condemned sin in his flesh.” 6) “The righteous decree of the law [is] fully satisfied in us.”

What does Jesus’ sacrifice mean for you? It means being set free from that sinful nature. When God condemned sin in Jesus’ flesh, he suffered as if he was the sole sinner ever to live. The death of Jesus is not just a nice picture or a reminder of self-sacrificing love or something to emulate. No, the death of Jesus is nothing short of the condemnation of condemnation itself. Hell has no claim on us because Jesus satisfied that claim in his flesh for us.

But that does not mean that sin is absent from our lives while we’re here—far from it. We continue to be the saint—the holy one cleansed by God—who is also a sinner who continues to sin. Despite knowing Jesus’ forgiving love, we will still rebel against him and seek our own path contrary to his will. Our sinful flesh still lingers, despite being conquered at the cross, and with its last gasps, tries to bring us down with it. The sinful flesh’s entire perspective is one of hostility and hatred toward God, and it’s still rattling around inside of us.

But to be in harmony with the spirit, that is, in harmony with the faith in Jesus God has created in us, leads to a totally different perspective. The one in harmony with the spirit knows that she is forgiven in the blood of Jesus shed for her. Paul is speaking to you and me when he says, “But you are not in the sinful flesh but in the spirit, if indeed God’s Spirit lives in you.” The Holy Spirit does, indeed, live in you. He dwells within you by faith, always clinging to Jesus as Savior, as the only and perfect solution to the condemnation we deserve.

Your conscience, though, will yell and scream about your failures. You will feel guilt and sorrow over your sin. And, to a point, this is good and healthy. These are tools to ward off slipping into complete harmony with the sinful flesh. But they are only helpful to a point, and the point where they stop being useful is Jesus. Because the guilty conscience is terrified of the condemnation that is coming because of your sin—you can feel it in the pit of your stomach. But you, dear Christian, can speak peace to your conscience. Your reply can (and should) be, “Condemnation? What condemnation? There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. I am in Jesus, and Jesus is in me. I am washed clean of every stain.”

If Christ is in you, your body is dead because of sin, but your spirit is alive because of righteousness. You and I will face death—physical death—as a consequence of our sins. But never eternal death, never condemnation, because Jesus did that for us. Your spirit, your faith, is alive and well by the working of the Holy Spirit. Your spiritual self will be with God forever, even being reunited with your body raised anew, glorified on the Last Day.

All these shape our perspective in life. God has freed you from sin and its condemnation, allowing you to glorify him. On Wednesday evening, we saw some ways to do this—respecting God’s representatives in our lives, honoring other people’s physical well-being, and treating God’s design for marriage and sex with appropriate reverence. This is just a sample of what we will do. We, who are in harmony with the spirit and have God’s Spirit in us, will live lives of gratitude toward him. This includes how we respect his Word, prioritize his will, and treat our neighbors—our fellow human beings.

My brothers and sisters, your sins are forgiven. Yes, even that one. No condemnation is waiting for you because Jesus was condemned in your place—and came out the other side completely victorious. You will not meet a stern judge when this life ends, but rather your loving Father who will wrap you up in his arms and tell you, “Oh, my child, once dead, but now alive; once lost, but now found! It’s so good to have you home!” There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus! Amen.

"Seek a Lenten Mindset!" (Sermon on Psalm 85) | March 23, 2025

Sermon Text: Psalm 85
Date: March 23, 2025
Event: The Third Sunday in Lent, Year C

Psalm 85 (EHV)

You showed favor to your land, O Lord.
You restored Jacob.
2You removed the guilt of your people.
You covered all their sin.                                                                Interlude
3You put away all your wrath.
You turned from your burning anger.
4Restore us, O God who saves us.
Put an end to your indignation with us.
5Will you be angry with us forever?
Will you extend your anger through all generations?
6Will you not turn and revive us,
so that your people may rejoice in you?
7Show us your mercy, O Lord,
and give us your salvation.
8I will hear what the true God, the Lord, will say.
He indeed speaks peace to his people, to his favored ones,
but do not let them turn to foolish ways.
9Surely his salvation is near for those who fear him,
so that glory may dwell in our land.
10Mercy and truth meet together.
Righteousness and peace kiss each other.
11Truth springs up from the earth,
and righteousness looks down from heaven.
12The Lord will indeed give good things,
and our land will yield its harvest.
13Righteousness walks in front of him.
It prepares the way for his footsteps.

Seek a Lenten Mindset!

For some tasks, you just have to be in the right headspace, and if you’re not, perhaps you need to try to manufacture it. For instance, if you know you need to work out or do some cleaning around the house, but perhaps you just don’t feel like it, sometimes putting on the right music, podcast, or TV show can flip that switch and get you going. Perhaps you have a project due for school in the coming weeks, but it feels so far away that you find yourself lacking the drive to get any work done on it. But perhaps setting smaller, more immediate deadlines can help light that fire under you to get started.

During the season of Lent, we might have to work especially hard to focus our minds on the season’s themes. Lent is very different from the Advent and Christmas seasons. There’s nothing in the world around us that can help “set the mood” for Lent. Just the opposite, actually. Everything around us directly contradicts that self-reflection centered on our sins and the need for God’s forgiveness. So, sometimes, having a model to follow, a path to trace, can help us get “in the zone,” as it were. Thankfully for us, in Psalm 85, we have exactly that.

The psalm writer begins this song to God with a bit of a history lesson. Now, it might seem a little bit weird to give God a history lesson on his own actions (did he forget?), but this really ties in with what we talked about on Wednesday evening with the Second Commandment. The best way to use God’s name is to share what he has done and to praise him for it. And that’s what the psalm writer is doing here: You showed favor to your land, O LORD. You restored Jacob. You removed the guilt of your people. You covered all their sin. You put away all your wrath. You turned from your burning anger.

Now, there is no indication of what events the psalm writer is talking about, and that’s probably intentional. Looking back through Bible history, we can see repeatedly where God followed this pattern of favor, restoration, and turning from fierce anger. We might think of Abraham and Sarah’s lack of trust in God’s promises for a child, so they turn to Hagar, Sarah’s servant, to be a “surrogate” of sorts in direct contradiction to God’s explicit promise that Abraham and Sarah would have a son (Genesis 16, 21). Perhaps, as the First Reading set the stage for the exodus of God’s people from Egypt, we think of the numerous times that God’s anger burned against the people for their idolatry and grumbling during those forty years wandering in the wilderness—beginning with that horrendous scene making and worshiping the golden calf (Exodus 32). David sinned against God in his lust and adultery with Bathsheba and in his deception and eventual murder of her husband, Uriah (2 Samuel 11-12). The prophet Elijah served at a time when the number of faithful people in the whole nation dipped to just 7,000; everyone else was serving the false gods of Baal and Asherah (1 Kings 18-19, esp. 19:18).

Whether the author of this psalm is a contemporary of David or lived a while after him, there was more than enough material in Israel’s history to draw on to see this pattern in God’s work. The people sin against God, and he is truly and justly angry over that sin, and yet he has compassion for his people and restores them.

Knowing this pattern helps us to understand the questions the psalm writer asks God, “Restore us, O God who saves us. Put an end to your indignation with us. Will you be angry with us forever? Will you extend your anger through all generations? Will you not turn and revive us, so that your people may rejoice in you?” He is not saying, “God, you have no right to be angry with us! This is unjust treatment!” In fact, just the opposite. When he asks God in v. 4 to “restore us” or “turn us back,” that’s a clear admission that they had gone astray. Put another way, you could say that the psalm writer is repentant for himself and on behalf of his people at large.

The psalm writer’s questions reveal that he knows and trusts God’s attitude, which drives God’s actions. The psalm writer had seen this before: God’s people sin, and he has mercy and compassion on them. So, his pleading with God is not a vain hope that he thinks has no chance of coming true; instead, it is a confident request that he knows God will follow through on: Show us your mercy, O LORD, and give us your salvation. He pleads with God to make his nature present in their lives.

The psalm writer had an appropriate Lenten mindset, which we want to emulate and capture for ourselves today and in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead. As we examine ourselves, we should see every reason God is upset with us, for his wrath to bubble over us. We have failed to be what he expected—demanded—we should be. But we, too, can look back over history and see the principal way God deals with people. Is it with anger and retribution or with mercy and forgiveness?

In fact, we have a far greater thing to point back to than the psalm writer did as we consider our sins. At the absolute latest, the psalm writer is writing hundreds of years before Jesus’ life. So he could look at God’s interactions with human beings and the promises that God had made. But those promises, certain as they were because God had made them, were still unresolved and unfulfilled.

But as the wheel of time rolled on, God sent his Son when that right moment came. Jesus made real what, up to that point, God has only promised and deferred. He came to redeem us who were wasting away in our sin under the law so that we might become the heirs of God rather than his enemies. When we plead with God to be merciful and forgive our sins, we can and should point to the cross. “Look, Lord! The punishment my sins deserved was doled out in the body of my Savior Jesus! There is nothing left for me to pay; he did it all for me!”

That repentant, Lenten mindset should be our approach to God for all our lives. Nothing we’ve done or will do can change what Jesus has accomplished. The steadfast God will not decide one day to no longer forgive you or to go back on his promises. No, if God’s promises are sure, then all the more is the fulfillment of those promises sure!

When his Spirit-given attitude is in us (one that is repentant, both sorry for our sins and trusting God’s mercy to forgive), we are the fig tree that Jesus pictured in our Gospel. We are bearing the fruit of faith because the fruit of faith is not trying to pretend we don’t have sins, nor is it assuming our sins create a hopeless situation for us. No, a fruit of faith is a confident resolve that he indeed speaks peace to his people, to his favored ones. And how does he speak that peace to us? Through the Word-made-flesh, Jesus, who paid for our sins with the sacrifice of his life for us. We are forgiven, no matter how grievous our failing or how deserving we think (and know!) we are of God’s wrath. Will God be angry with us forever? No! Because in Jesus, the punishment has been met, and his promises are fulfilled.

My brothers and sisters, we are truly God's favored ones. Not because of anything you have done or anything I have done, but because of what God has done for us. He will not be angry with us forever because he took out his just anger on Jesus. We do not have to worry about the effectiveness of his death because we know what awaits us just three days after his death at that garden tomb.

So, go forth in genuine acknowledgment and sorrow over your sin, but not hopelessly. Go forward trusting that all God has promised has been done and will be done. Your sins are forgiven. You are God’s child. And because of what he’s already done for you, he will bring you to his heavenly home. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Don't Shrink Away from the Moment" (Sermon on Philippians 3:17-4:1) | March 16, 2025

Sermon Text: Philippians 3:17–4:1
Date: March 16, 2025
Event: The Second Sunday in Lent, Year C

Philippians 3:17–4:1 (EHV)

Brothers, join together in imitating me and in paying attention to those who are walking according to the pattern we gave you. 18To be sure, many walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. I told you about them often, and now I am saying it while weeping. 19Their end is destruction, their god is their appetite, and their glory is in their shame. They are thinking only about earthly things. 20But our citizenship is in heaven. We are eagerly waiting for a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ. 21By the power that enables him to subject all things to himself, he will transform our humble bodies to be like his glorious body.

4:1So then, my brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, in this way keep standing firm in the Lord, my dear friends.

Don’t Shrink Away from the Moment

The basketball player gets the ball. Down by one point, a single made shot wins the game. The defense has panicked, leaving him wide open. The final seconds are ticking down. He lines it up and gets ready to take the shot, but he hesitates. His teammates on the bench are screaming for him to shoot, but he doubts himself and shrinks away from the moment. He sees a teammate open and passes the ball to him, but what he didn’t see was the defender behind him. The defender swats away the pass, grabs the ball, and they lose the game. They would have won if he had just taken and made the wide-open shot, but his hesitation means they didn’t even get a chance to try. Game over.

Our walk through this life as Christians is of far greater importance than any basketball game that has ever been played, but the same kind of metrics and drama are present. We have a limited amount of time, we face pressures and opposition that sometimes are outside of us and sometimes are inside of us. When everything is on the line for us spiritually, do we shrink away from the moment, hesitating to or even refusing to live the life that God has called us to live? Or do we embrace the moment and seize the opportunities that God is putting in front of us?

In our Second Reading this morning, Paul is writing to beloved Christians in the city of Philippi. This brief letter is often called Paul’s letter of joy because, despite writing it while under house arrest, Paul is so positive and so thankful for these partners in gospel ministry that he just can’t keep it contained. Even in our brief snippet of the letter here, you get a sense of that joyful flavor. Consider how he addresses this congregation in the last verse of our reading: my brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown… Is there any question about Paul’s feelings toward these fellow believers?

And what does he want for these beloved people? That they live their lives consistent with their faith in the crucified and risen Savior. And how would they learn what to do? In part, by looking at Paul and his coworkers in the ministry: Brothers, join together in imitating me and in paying attention to those who are walking according to the pattern we gave you. Now, to be clear, Paul is not implying that he, in some way, is the “gold standard” of living the Christian life; this is the same man who, when writing to pastor Timothy, was clear that he viewed himself as the worst sinner of all (see 1 Timothy 1:15-16). But he knows that while he was with the Philippians, he set a positive, if not perfect, example. And he urges them to follow suit.

You might have had the experience that heavy, big emotions in one area can lead to heavy, big emotions in another area at the same moment. And so it is the case here that in Paul’s overflowing joy for the Philippians, with the floodgates of his heart set wide open, he loses control of his emotions in another place. So, with tears in his eyes, tripping over his words and even interrupting himself, he puts forth the opposite side of the coin, the thing he doesn’t want in any way, shape, or form for the Philippians: To be sure, many walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. I told you about them often, and now I am saying it while weeping. Paul is absolutely destroyed that many are going about their lives as enemies of the cross of Christ.

What constitutes being an enemy of Christ’s cross? It’s not necessarily being vehemently opposed to the gospel message to the point of fighting against it. While that would certainly be included here, Paul’s description is not limited to that. How does he describe these enemies? Their end is destruction, their god is their appetite, and their glory is in their shame. They are thinking only about earthly things. It’s not only setting one’s heart and mind against Jesus but simply valuing other things over him.

There may be echoes here for you of our worship from Wednesday evening this past week where we focused on the First Commandment. In short, enemies of the cross of Christ are those who value things other than Christ’s cross, put other things ahead of God in their lives. Indeed, this would apply to unbelievers. But this is also a path believers can walk. Paul is determined to do everything he can not to let that happen to the Philippians and their faith.

But what would cause someone to take such a position? What would cause someone to value things other than God? What would that look like in practice? Well, looking at what Paul says here, we might be able to derive some thoughts:

Their god is their appetite. Now, a phrase like this perhaps conjures up a hedonistic view of someone who overindulges in every worldly thing. But it’s more basic than that. Perhaps this is someone who overindulges, but it might also be someone who is constantly on the hunt to make physical ends meet. They might rarely know where their next meal is coming from, so their growling, empty stomach becomes their god; they focus primarily on how to fill it next to preserve their life. This is an example of a lack of trust in God’s promise for daily bread. And even if it’s not too-much or too-little, prioritizing physical appetites over everything else in this life—especially God—is a tell-tale sign of an enemy of Christ’s cross.

Their glory is in their shame. So too, the enemies of Christ’s cross might find glory in shameful things. We might think of the person who brags about how they cheated someone in a transaction and came out financially ahead. Or perhaps someone who lives a sexually promiscuous lifestyle and boasts about his or her “conquests” in that realm. Perhaps it’s someone who brags about how much alcohol they consumed or how many drugs they took at a party over the weekend. It might be someone laughing about the filth that dominates their internet usage. All of these things should be shameful because they are sinful abuses of God’s blessings. But rather than approaching these things with repentance and sorrow, they boast in them, value them, identify with them, and might even find the meaning to their life in them. For the enemy of Christ’s cross, actions and attitudes that they ought to be ashamed of are worn as badges of honor.

They are thinking only about earthly things. Oh, and now this is where it starts to get really uncomfortable, because this statement seems wildly broad. I wonder, how many of us here today have thought, just since the sermon started, primarily about that work that needs to be done at home or that bill that needs to be paid, or that meal that will need to be prepared, or that bit of fun we’re planning for the afternoon, or anything along those lines rather than focusing on God’s Word. Are the earthly things dominating your thoughts, pushing spiritual matters and the joy of Jesus’ cross out?

Well-meaning Christians can become enemies of the cross of Christ. Consider for just a moment the suffering that you might undergo for being a Christian. What trouble has or might your faith cause among the members of your family? What about among your friends? Coworkers? Neighbors? Even strangers at the coffee shop or driving down the road? What is our gut reaction most of the time? We might not want to face the consequences of having a faith that is looked down on, so we hide it. We perhaps have a moment for confession, a time to make our faith known, but we sit quietly; we don’t take the shot.

In our nation, an ugly side-effect can come along with our secular principle of the freedom of religion—we, as Christians, long for “comfortable” or “consequence-free” Christianity. We want to be Christians, but not endure any hardship for that. We want to cherish our Savior while keeping him a secret or relatively unknown. We want the blessings of being the child of God while at the same time indulging in the infatuations that come with being a child of this world.

So this “enemies of the cross of Christ” category is not just those people who seem especially opposed to the gospel. Again, it’s anyone that is valuing these earthly things more than spiritual things. It might be true of the hedonistic unbeliever, but it is also just as likely that you and I here today are, in part, going through our lives like this. However, whether in ourselves or others, Paul gives us the proper response to these things. He isn’t furious about this; his tears say it all. We need to see the spiritual and eternal danger these attitudes pose for us.

Is it any wonder that Paul is weeping when he thinks of people living like this and that such a fall could even come upon his beloved Philippians? This path ends nowhere good. It only ends with the rejection of faith, the rejection of everything won at the cross of Christ, and ultimately, as eternal punishment in hell for our sins.

So, if our thoughts are misguided if they’re focused exclusively or even primarily on earthly, physical things, what is the solution? Paul directs us in the next verse: But our citizenship is in heaven. Our closing hymn this morning will underscore the fact that, really, we are foreigners here in this world. Our true homeland is heaven, the dwelling place of God. That’s easy to forget, though, because we don’t see a lot to remind us of that and redirect our thinking that way. It’s like we’re traveling abroad and find ourselves swept up in another nation’s civil war. If we can only focus on what is right in front of us, we might be terrified of the injury or even death that could face us. But if we remember our true citizenship and seek help from our homeland, ideally, we will be rescued from that conflict and returned home safely.

This citizenship idea would have been powerful in the city of Philippi. As a leading Roman city in the area, many of the residents would have been Roman citizens, aware of the privileges they held there and throughout the empire because of their citizenship. Likewise, the people who didn’t have citizenship in the empire would have been accurately aware of what they were missing.

But Paul stresses that our citizenship in heaven supersedes that of any earthly nation. And don’t miss a really small, yet really important detail. Paul says that our citizenship is in heaven, not that it will be in heaven. This is something that is true right here, right now. How? He goes on: We are eagerly waiting for a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ. We are looking forward to our Savior Jesus’ victorious return at the last day. But this stresses once again that this forgiveness, this citizenship, is something given, not earned. You don’t get this citizenship because you paid a lot of money, as you might in the Roman empire. You don’t get it because you jump through all sort of legal hoops and red tape, complete with lawyer’s fees, as you might in our nation. No, this citizenship is a gift of God’s love.

But this gift was not free. Like us, Jesus had a choice in front of him: easy path or difficult path. The easy path would have meant no cross, no suffering, no death, but that also would have meant eternal damnation for us all. Jesus was not willing to take the easy path, to save his own skin, and leave us to rot. So he took the difficult path, the path of the cross, the path that led him to taking our sins on himself and being punished for them at his cross so that we would be free from sin. This is why we are citizens of heaven, because of Jesus’ love for us that sacrificed himself to save us.

We hold dear, cherish, and value that citizenship-gift above everything else. We walk about our lives not as enemies of the cross of Christ but so thankful for all the eternal blessings we have now and will fully experience later for Jesus’ sake. We recognize that this path will be difficult; we will have crosses of our own, suffering of our own, placed on us as we go through this life. But let’s not take the shortcuts. Let’s not prioritize short-term comfort, which will forfeit eternal-term comfort and peace. Let us look forward to that final transformation that Jesus will bring about, when he brings us back to our homeland, to heaven, and purges even that sinful nature from us so that our bodies will be more akin to his glorious body than the decay we feel now.

Lord, give us the drive to walk the path in front of us, no matter how difficult or painful. Help us always be your positive representatives in the world, no matter the cost. Strengthen us as you forgive us for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

"Jesus Conquers Satan for You" (Sermon on Luke 4:1-13) | March 9, 2025

Sermon Text: Luke 4:1–13
Date: March 9, 2025
Event: The First Sunday in Lent, Year C

Luke 4:1–13 (EHV)

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, 2where he was tempted by the Devil for forty days. He did not eat anything during those days. When they came to an end, he was hungry. 3The Devil said to him, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.”

4Jesus answered him, “It is written: ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word of God.’”

5The Devil led him up to a high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time. 6The Devil told him, “I will give you all this power and the glory of these kingdoms, because it has been entrusted to me, and I can give it to anyone I want. 7So, if you worship me, it will all be yours.”

8Jesus answered him, “It is written: ‘You shall worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’”

9The Devil led him to Jerusalem and had him stand on the pinnacle of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down from here, 10because it is written:

He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you.

11And,

they will lift you up with their hands,
so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.”

12Jesus answered him, “It says: ‘You shall not test the Lord your God.’”

13When the Devil had finished every temptation, he left him until an opportune time.

Jesus Conquers Satan for You

We all would like someone to stand up for us. If you’re being bullied at school, having a classmate swoop in and tell the bully off is a relief and empowering experience. Similarly, when you're in a meeting at work and receive stern criticism for your presentation, it’s easier to deal with it when others also praise your thoughts and ideas. Holding an unpopular opinion can feel alienating, but having even one other person who agrees with you is a great comfort and encouragement.

There’s an important concept that we need to keep in mind during this Lent season (and, truly, at all times), and that concept you might see in Latin: Christus pro nobis; in English: Christ for us.  This biblical principle is that Jesus’ work is ultimately vicarious, substitutionary. Much of what Jesus does is to take our place under the demands of God’s law, to face our enemies, and even to face the punishment for sin (of which he had none, and we have seemingly infinite). So when we see Jesus doing extraordinary things that we could never imagine ourselves doing, we want to keep this “Christ for us” principle in mind. Likely, the point of what Jesus is doing is not showing you how to conduct yourself, but rather doing what you could not do for you.

This “Christ for us” principle is front-and-center in our Gospel for this morning as we meet up with Jesus facing the temptations of the Devil. While we can learn a lot from Jesus’ approach to temptation, the ultimate takeaway we want to have is that he’s doing this for us. His perfection is credited to you, to me. He makes us righteous and perfect as we should have been all along.

As we join the events of our Gospel in progress, Jesus is leaving the Jordan River just after his baptism. This account is literally the first thing he did after the official start of his ministry. Jesus is just getting things rolling, and who is there to meet him and try to derail everything? Satan.

And as true man, Jesus is vulnerable. Not just because he had the potential to sin, which he did, but also because he was in a physically weak state. Jesus was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where he was tempted by the Devil for forty days. He did not eat anything during those days. When they came to an end, he was hungry. You likely know how you feel when you’re hungry. Perhaps you have a headache; perhaps you are quick-tempered; perhaps you make really bad decisions. So, if that’s what you feel like when you miss lunch or perhaps are late to get dinner going, imagine how you’d feel if that stretched out beyond a day! How hungry would you be and how sane would you feel if you hadn’t eaten in 40 hours? Now consider your weakness if you had been fasting for forty days! Luke’s comment on Jesus’ state, “he was hungry,” seems like an almost intentional understatement.

So it’s during this period of fasting that Satan comes to Jesus to tempt him. Satan’s tactics are all over the place because he doesn’t really care how he gets Jesus to sin, he just knows he needs to get Jesus to sin. Just one sin would make Jesus entirely ineligible to be our Savior and ruin God’s entire plan of salvation. So right here at the start of Jesus’ ministry, Satan digs in—and notably, God lets him. Remember that Jesus is in this position because he was led by the Spirit in the wilderness. This whole scene is not Jesus being victimized by Satan; this is part of his work for us; he is there willingly.

The first temptation that Luke records for us seems to hit Jesus at his physical weakness as well as at his ministerial weakness. Satan might have assumed that Jesus, the newly anointed prophet, would be eager to prove his status. So Satan tempts him to prove that he is God’s Son. Such a temptation probably worked well for Satan with many newly-minted leaders in the church over the centuries, to overextend to prove their legitimacy. And pile Jesus’ fasting on top of that! Regardless of whether this particular temptation took place on day 5, 15, or 40 of his time in the wilderness (or repeatedly during these days), Jesus would have been hungry; the stone-into-bread would have been tempting. So, “If you are the Son of God, tell this stone to become bread.”

We see a pattern in Jesus’ answers to Satan’s temptations. He doesn’t engage Satan in a lengthy dialogue, logically explaining why that action would be bad. Instead, he answers Satan’s temptations directly with God’s Word. In this case, a quote from Deuteronomy chapter 8. In what Jesus quotes, Moses encourages the Israelites to look to God for this sustenance and support as they had during the 40 years wandering in the wilderness, knowing that ultimately it’s not bread that sustains someone, but God’s providence. So, if Jesus needed bread, his heavenly Father would provide. But in this moment, the Father didn’t; Jesus wouldn’t succumb to Satan’s trap.

Satan moves on to a different tactic in the second recorded temptation. He lays out all the glory of all the kingdoms of the world. “I will give you all this power and the glory of these kingdoms,” Satan promises through lying teeth. What might have been Satan’s thought here? Again, he may be following his playbook for what might trip-up the average new prophet of God. “Wouldn’t it be better for your message and ministry to be well-known, Jesus? Wouldn’t the glory and splendor of all the world’s kingdoms be a good place to start? Wouldn’t it be good to have a global audience right from the get-go instead of fighting tooth-and-nail for every convert in backwater Judea and Galilee?” But, what’s the trade for such a head start to one’s ministry? “If you worship me, it will all be yours.”

In some ways, this temptation is more about Satan than Jesus. This is what he has always wanted. He wanted glory and recognition. He wanted to be over and above all. He wanted the glory due only to God. That was the reason for his original rebellion. If he could get the Son of God to worship him in this moment, he would have won his heart’s desire. But Jesus quickly throws a restatement of the First Commandment back at him from Deuteronomy 6, “You shall worship the Lord your God and serve him only.” As far as our Gospel goes, strike two.

Finally, Satan goes for the big guns. Jesus has shown a reliance on God’s Word, so Satan co-opts it. He quotes God’s promise to be with and protect his people from Psalm 91. “If this is true,” Satan reasons with Jesus, “throw yourself off the top of the temple and let God protect you. Surely you, mighty Son of God, of all people, would be in the arms of these powerful servants!” One wonders if Satan is still salty about God’s orders to the angelic host to serve and protect mankind, orders that would have applied to Satan before his rebellion against God.

But Jesus knows that this is not the purpose of that promise. God is not saying, “Get yourself in as much trouble as possible! I’ve got you!” Instead, God’s promise in Psalm 91 is that as we go about our lives, God will be our guardian and protector. He is our shelter and protects our tents (Psalm 91:9-10). And that is made clear as Jesus quotes God’s direction through Moses, again in Deuteronomy 6, not to put God to the test.

What are we to make of this whole scene? Let us not forget the “Christ for us” principle! Here Jesus is not saying, “Look how easy it is to fight temptation! I did it on over a month’s worth of hungry days!” No, this is Jesus fighting this spiritual battle for us. He is standing up to Satan and swatting down his temptations in our place.

We need only examine the temptations and find modern equivalents for us. Have we ever valued the things of this world more than we trusted God? Have we ever made an idol out of luxury and physical security, valuing them above all things? “Tell these stones to become bread”—regardless of what God has promised?

Or what about acceptance from the world? How likely are we to jettison our faith and dedication to God if it means a welcome or even praise from those in the world? Do we seek to blend in with our friends, even doing things we know are wrong, so that we’re not kicked out of the group or thought of as weird? Do we succumb to the temptation to fit in with the crowd at work, the bar, or our other relationships so that we fade into the background or foreground? “I will give you all this power and the glory of these kingdoms … if you worship me, it will all be yours”—while you at the same time stomp all over your faith in Jesus, or at least keep it as hidden as possible, like a plant tucked away in a basement?

Do we ever distort God’s promises of protection? Do we assume that he’ll save us from any and every trouble in the way we want—and then get angry when he doesn’t? If I face the consequences for my own sin and carelessness, do I shake the fist at God rather than turning the reflection inward on my choices and priorities? Do I create promises that God has never made and assume he’ll do my will, rather than the other way around? “Throw yourself down from here”—not in faith, but in spite, daring God to save you!

To one degree or another, we are all guilty of all of these lines of thought and action. It might not play out in precisely the way we just mentioned in your life, but somewhere inside all of us is the drive to do exactly what Satan tried to get Jesus to do. And this underscores the truth that the writer to the Hebrews shared in our Second Reading this morning. Truly, we have a high priest who has been tempted in every way, just as we are, yet was without sin (Hebrews 4:15). Jesus doesn’t just know this temptation, he shut it down and defeated it. He defeated it for you.

We know where Lent is taking us. Before we turn around twice we’ll be in Holy Week. We’ll be sitting here in church on a dark Friday night, hearing the agonizing screams of the Son of God abandoned by his heavenly Father. But again, that will be for us. It will be for us because we have sinned so often under temptation, when even once was too much. In that moment on the cross, the only person who was ever without sin will suffer as if he was the only person who ever had sinned, bearing the full brunt of hell as the payment for your sins and mine. Christ for us.

So, we can take some practical pointers from this scene between Satan and Jesus. When we are facing temptation to do what we know is wrong—what God clearly says is wrong—quote God’s Word at Satan. Jesus isn’t just making declarations of truth as God; he’s quoting the Scriptures, which we also have to fend off our adversary. You have the same tool, the same sword of the Holy Spirit, at your disposal. Use it and, as James says, “Submit yourselves to God. Resist the Devil, and he will flee from you” (James 4:7).

But this is not just a how-to guide for fighting temptation. It’s not even primarily such a guide. No, this is primarily Jesus defeating temptation for you and me. Jesus’ perfect life is credited to your account and my account so that, in his forgiving sacrifice and perfect crediting of his life for ours, we are the perfect people that God demands we be. In “Christ for us,” we are victorious because he was victorious in our stead, partly here in the wilderness, and ultimately at the cross.

Jesus has conquered Satan for you! Thanks be to God! Amen.  

"Behold God's Glory!" (Sermon on 2 Corinthians 3:7-18) | March 2, 2025

Sermon Text: 2 Corinthians 3:7–18
Date: March 2, 2025
Event: The Transfiguration of Our Lord, Year C

2 Corinthians 3:7–18 (EHV)

If the ministry that brought death (which was engraved in letters on stone) came with glory, so that the Israelites could not look directly at the face of Moses because of the glory of his face (though it was fading), 8how will the ministry of the spirit not be much more glorious? 9For if the ministry that brought condemnation has glory, the ministry that brought righteousness has even more glory. 10In fact, in this case, what was glorious is no longer very glorious, because of the greater glory of that which surpasses it. 11Indeed, if what is fading away was glorious, how much more glorious is that which is permanent!

12Therefore, since we have this kind of hope, we act with great boldness. 13We are not like Moses, who put a veil over his face, so that the Israelites could not continue to look at the end of the radiance, as it was fading away. 14In spite of this, their minds were hardened. Yes, up to the present day, the same veil remains when the Old Testament is read. It has not been removed because it is taken away only in Christ. 15Instead, to this day, whenever Moses is read, a veil lies over their hearts. 16But whenever someone turns to the Lord, the veil is taken away. 17Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. 18But all of us who reflect the Lord’s glory with an unveiled face are being transformed into his own image, from one degree of glory to another. This too is from the Lord, who is the Spirit.

Behold God’s Glory!

Things that have been hidden can be quite surprising when they are revealed. The engagement ring that was waiting until just the right moment to appear might take someone by surprise—in a good way. A cancer diagnosis when the person feels otherwise healthy will absoultely take someone by surprise—in a bad way.

While “ignorance is bliss” at times, we often prefer to know things rather than stay in the dark. Some things may need to remain hidden, at least for a while: the surprise party or the bad news that could be completely destructive to someone already going through a tough time. A surprise can be enjoyable when it’s fun, but when it’s something important and concealed, it can be frustrating and harmful.

When it comes to spiritual matters, there are all sorts of hidden things. Think of how many times we ponder God’s Word and we get caught up in genuinely unanswerable questions based on what God has told us. While his message in the Bible is sufficient—more than sufficient, even!—it is not exhaustive. Not every question that crosses our mind will be clearly answered in the Scriptures and many decisions need to be made in our lives with only the most general of guiding principles from what God has said. Rarely do we have a passage telling us which choice in our lives is right and which is wrong.

This Sunday, Transfiguration Sunday, is a summary Sunday for the whole season of Epiphany. The season has been all about revealing hidden things. We’ve seen things about Jesus that were not obvious—his being true God hidden in the garment of his true humanity—and we’ve learned things about the reality of events in our lives that are not always clear, such as the good purposes behind suffering and how God wants us to treat those who are our enemies.

Today, the veil covering Jesus’ divine nature was mostly removed for a brief moment in our Gospel. Peter, James, and John could see Jesus almost completely as the God that he is: his face changed, and his clothing became dazzling white, a comparison with a flash of lightning.  In Matthew’s Gospel, he compares Jesus’ appearance with the sun (Matthew 17:2). This was not just a glowing complexion on someone who is happy and content; Jesus looked wildly different than he usually did during his ministry.

But this is not the only time in the Bible that we hear of someone’s appearance being changed to something more dazzling. In our First Reading this morning we heard that after Moses met with God to receive the Law the skin of his face was shining because he had been speaking with the Lord (Exodus 34:29). Moses’ gleaming face was, of course, different than Jesus’ appearance at his transfiguration. Moses’ shine was a reflection of God’s glory where Jesus’ radiance was his own glory as God.

In our Second Reading, the apostle Paul takes the account of Moses and expounds on it for us. As the Holy Spirit adds some symbolic meaning to Moses’ gleaming face and as we see Jesus display his glory on the Mount of Transfiguration, we can spend time this morning appreciating the true glory of God—his mercy and compassion.

When Moses received the law from God, that interaction brought about his gleaming face, reflecting God’s glory. But the law is, as you well know, not good news. This was a covenant that God was establishing between himself and his people. It was a bilateral, two-directional covenant: if the people would keep up their side, God would keep up his side. But if the people did not follow what God directed, then his promises of blessings would end.

Of course, understanding that this was a nation of sinners indicates from the very beginning how this would play out: not well. Therefore, Paul describes this law as the ministry that brought death, because that’s all the law can do for sinners. It reveals where we have failed to perfectly follow God’s directions, leading to eternal punishment in hell. Yet, even this death-bringing message still carried God’s glory. Paul continues: How will the ministry of the Spirit not be much more glorious? For if the ministry that brought condemnation has glory, the ministry that brought righteousness has even more glory. If God’s glory shines in the law’s message of condemnation, how much more does his glory shine through the gospel message that brings forgiveness?

Moses had to cover his face, the reflection of God’s glory, because even that fading reflection was too much for the people of Israel to look at. We might remember Peter’s reaction to the gigantic catch of fish a few weeks ago in our Gospel; in terror he fell at Jesus’ feet and begged him to go away because Peter knew he was sinful. This is the same reaction all sinners—you and I included—have toward God’s glory.

But Jesus came to change that. He came so that we could stand in God’s presence, live in God’s presence not for a moment, but forever. For that to be possible, sin would have to be eliminated. Nothing would prevent us from living in God’s glory if all sins were gone. And not in a veiled, muted way or a disguised way as it was most often in Jesus during his ministry. No, without sin, we could bask in that full glory forever.

We see a very small preview of this on the Mount of Transfiguration. When Peter, James, and John saw Jesus’ glory, we don’t hear them begging for Jesus to go away from them in terror. No, quite the opposite, actually. Peter’s mind couldn’t quite process what was happening here, but he knew on a fundamental level that this was a place he wanted to stay—with these heroes of faith and his Savior in his revealed glory. Thus, he suggests that he put up some tents so that this moment wouldn’t have to end and could last as long as possible.

But it did have to end because the work of removing sins was not done. God could not just pretend like you and I had not sinned or that our sins didn’t matter. He had to solve this problem; he had to deal with sin. Jesus would deal with it in his own body, offering his own life in place of ours.

As we begin a new season of the church year this Wednesday, we will have ample time to dwell on the reality of our sin and the horrid price it cost Jesus to free us from it. But as we move through Lent’s darker and meditative days, let this scene with Peter, James, and John live in your mind. This is the goal. This is what Jesus is driving toward. This is what he wants for you, for me, and for all people.

And by God’s grace, we know how this all shakes out. We know that Jesus’ goal is not a pipe dream—it’s the reality he brought to completion. The trip down from this glorious mount will eventually lead elsewhere, a horrid and disgusting hilltop. As we sang in our hymn of the day, “Strange how his journey ended! In love that is his fame our Lord again ascended a mount—the hill of shame. Upon the cross he proffered himself to agony; his holy soul he offered to set the guilty free” (Christian Worship 388, s. 4). All of Jesus’ work, all of the promises that God had made for millennia before him, is leading to the cross. And the suffering at the cross leads to the victory of his empty tomb.

For us here today, this has all been accomplished. As was true for the apostle Paul, so it is true for us. There is no end to this glory brought about by the gospel. Indeed, if what is fading away was glorious, how much more glorious is that which is permanent! What is the result? All of us who reflect the Lord’s glory with an unveiled face are being transformed into his own image, from one degree of glory to another.  We don’t shield our eyes or face from this glory. We look directly into God’s glory with unveiled faces and bask in it.

Soon enough, we will join Peter, James, John, Moses, and Elijah, not in tents on a dusty hilltop, but in the perfect courts of heaven, in the mansions prepared by our Savior, because of his victory for us. You, my brothers and sisters, have been changed from fear and death to joy and life. The glory of God—the gloria Dei, if you will—transforms us so that we reflect that very glory, not in a fading way, but in a permanent way. We no longer need to be given special dispensation like Moses or Peter, James, and John, but we will be in that glory forever because Jesus has taken away our sins. There we will behold God’s glory without end! Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Love Your Enemies" (Sermon on Luke 6:27-38) | February 23, 2025

Sermon Text: Luke 6:27–38
Date: February 23, 2025
Event: The Seventh Sunday after Epiphany, Year C

Luke 6:27–38 (EHV)

“But I say to you who are listening: Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. 28Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who mistreat you. 29If someone strikes you on one cheek, offer the other too. If someone takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt. 30Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes away your things, do not demand them back.

31“Treat others just as you would want them to treat you. 32If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? To be sure, even the sinners love those who love them. 33And if you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? Even the sinners do the same thing. 34If you lend to those from whom you expect to be repaid, what credit is that to you? Even the sinners lend to sinners in order to be paid back in full. 35Instead, love your enemies, do good and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, because he is kind to the unthankful and the evil. 36Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

37“Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. 38Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be poured into your lap. In fact, the measure with which you measure will be measured back to you.”

Love Your Enemies

A common theme in political discourse throughout history is leaders (or would-be leaders) identifying a problem that some core part of their constituency has and then finding some group of “others” to blame it on. You see that especially in difficult economic times. Usually, the blame gets put on someone who is different than the core group—maybe a different religion, skin tone, language, or ancestry. More often than not throughout history, those claims and blames have been baseless.

Yet, why do you see that throughout history and even today? Because it works. If I’m suffering, if there is something bad in my life, I want to blame it on someone or something—and ideally that someone or something isn’t me. And whether anything changes in my life or not, just having someone leading me saying this is the person or group to blame for my problems gives me an outlet, a metaphorical (or, in more horrid terms, a literal) punching bag that I can take out my frustrations on, and perhaps think that if I do bad to them then good will happen to me.

Let’s set aside for just a moment that the vast majority of that rhetoric is utter nonsense and is spewed out just to incite mob mentality among a group of hurting people. Let’s assume, just for the sake of argument, that my current troubles are the result of some other person’s or group’s actions. What would be the result of my taking action against that person or group? What if I were to hurt them, take their belongings, or perhaps even take their life. Does my life get better? Are my problems solved because I’ve gotten even with my oppressor? Hardly. In fact, while the now-trite line is “vengeance is a dish best served cold,” it’s almost always a poisonous meal.

That’s not to say that we don’t have problems in our lives. And that’s not even to say that often times our troubles aren’t possibly the result of other person’s action or inaction. But what is the appropriate response to that? How do we handle being wronged in this life? How can we conduct ourselves in this life to give glory to God while also acknowledging that life in this sin-corrupted world is often awful?

Our readings for this morning build on some of what we talked about last weekend. This past Sunday, we spent time with the apostle Paul as he wrestled with God in prayer regarding his “thorn in the flesh” (2 Corinthians 12:7), which God opted not to take away from him because it served his purposes for Paul in this life. So, while God does indeed want what is best for us, sometimes what is best for us and what we want is not the same thing. And so while what we want is probably for people to just be nice to us—or at least to treat us the way that we want to be treated—that often doesn’t happen. Sometimes, you have true enemies set against you that despise you for what you’ve done or not done or for no apparent reason at all. And surely, we might recognize that our own failures are at the heart of this. Perhaps I have, in fact, sinned against someone in the past and left them hurt to the point that they are not interested in forgiving me. But how do I deal with the reality of someone making me their enemy?

In our Gospel for this morning, Jesus has direction for us that is the polar opposite of the political leader sicing his adherents against a group of “others” that have been identified as the enemy. Jesus’ words and direction are so controversial, so at odds with our sinful natural mindset, that his words might almost seem like madness to us. How do we deal with an enemy, someone who sets out to make our lives miserable? Love them. Love your enemies. Do good to those who hate you. Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who mistreat you. If someone strikes you on one cheek, offer the other too. If someone takes away your coat, do not withhold your shirt. Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes away your things, do not demand them back.

This “love” is not just not hurting someone or not lashing out at them. This love is real, selfless, self-sacrificing love. How often do you pray for those who are set against you—not praying about them, that is, that they stop doing what they’re doing, but actually praying for them—that things would be good for them, that God would bless them, take care of them, and biggest of all, bring them to saving faith? Naturally, those types of prayers are probably at the bottom of our list, if they’re on the list at all.

But, my brothers and sisters, we do well to consider our own relationship with God. What was our natural state with God? It certainly wasn’t friend or ally—it was enemy. Our sin put us in a war with God. Every sinful action and thought was rebellion against our Creator; every time we disobeyed was tossing a hand grenade toward the Almighty. So, what was God’s response? Did he come and wipe us out? Did he open up the earth and consume us at the first sniff of sin? Did he just send us to hell? No, he loved us.

In Romans 8, the apostle Paul sums up our natural situation well: To be sure, those who are in harmony with the sinful flesh think about things the way the sinful flesh does … Now, the way the sinful flesh thinks results in death … For the mind-set of the sinful flesh is hostile to God, since it does not submit to God’s law, and in fact, it cannot. Those who are in the sinful flesh cannot please God. (Romans 8:5-8). But earlier in that letter, in Romans 5, Paul had already outlined how God addressed this sin-laden hostility toward him: It is rare indeed that someone will die for a righteous person. Perhaps someone might actually go so far as to die for a person who has been good to him. But God shows his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. … For if, while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, it is even more certain that, since we have been reconciled, we will be saved by his life (Romans 5:7-8, 10). How rare it is for someone to be willing to sacrifice their own lives for someone they love, for someone who has been good to them! But what does God do? He gives up his life to save those who hated him because he loved us even when we were his enemies!

So Jesus is really laying out the way that God deals with sinners: love for enemies. That’s what you and I have been shown. Our whole lived, spiritual experience is that God loved us when we were. In a way that makes no sense to us, even as Christians, God saved us from hell by dying for the sins that we committed against him. Thanks be to God that it doesn’t have to make sense to us to be true. It is our certain foundation and our hope.

So, why didn’t God just take us from this life as soon as he brought us to faith? As soon as the words of the gospel hit our ears, as soon as the moisture of that baptism touched our skin, once he had made us his children rather than his enemies, why didn’t he just whisk us up to heaven at that moment? Because, as Jesus lays out for us here, you and I are to be models and reflections of God’s love to the world among those who do not know it.

Yet we do have to admit the sad reality that not only do we not do this as often as we could or should, but very often, we don’t even want to. It’s much more satisfying to the sinful nature to pay back someone evil with our own evil. We like the political message of blaming others for our problems, of responding to people’s hate with our own hate. It’s like spiritual junk food—it tastes so good, and is so very bad for you. Paul asked the question, “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you?” What credit is there in hating those who hate us? None at all! Lord, forgive us for such shallow, thoughtless attitudes toward others!

So that means that even Paul’s quotation from Proverbs in our Second Reading—that in responding to evil with good we “heap burning coals on his head” (Romans 12:20; Proverbs 25:21-22)—is not the main point. We’re not just trying to shame someone by responding to evil with good; instead, we are trying to move them from shame to assurance of their forgiveness. Our prayer is that love for enemies—as alien and foreign as anything could be in this world—might be a window, an opening, to be able to share the joy of Christ-crucified and risen for all people. If asked why I treat someone in such a surprising way, despite how they treat me, may the answer always be, “Well, that’s how God treated me—loved me—in Jesus.”

So, Jesus’ direction is as much about sharing God’s love as it is about thanking God for what he’s done for us. When you follow Jesus' so-called “golden rule” of treating others just as you would want them to treat you, you create an environment in which you can share God’s baffling love in Jesus with those you treat well, even when they don’t show you the same courtesy.

In the end, if someone needs to be rebuked, if there needs to be vengeance laid out on someone for what they’ve done to you, that is God’s decision and God’s work. As for you? Knowing that you are fully loved, fully forgiven in Jesus’ blood shed for you, do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good (Romans 12:21). Amen.  

"Is Jesus' Grace Sufficient?" (Sermon on 2 Corinthians 12:7-10) | February 16, 2025

Sermon Text: 2 Corinthians 12:7b–10
Date: February 16, 2025
Event: The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany, Year C

2 Corinthians 12:7b–10 (EHV)

I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me, so that I would not become arrogant. 8Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that he would take it away from me. 9And he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, because my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will be glad to boast all the more in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may shelter me.

10That is why I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties, for the sake of Christ. For whenever I am weak, then am I strong.

Is Jesus’ Grace Sufficient?

Have you ever felt at the point of being completely overwhelmed, that you just couldn’t take one more issue or you were going to lose it? And “lose it” may have different meanings to different people in different contexts. Maybe you feel like you’re going to scream if one more person tries to put one more thing on your tasklist. Maybe you feel like you’re going to get sick if you have one more piece of anxiety-causing news come across your phone or TV screen. Maybe you feel like you’re going to quit your job or run away from some other responsibilities if things don’t change because you just can’t take one more minute of the way things are going.

Those responses all make sense. Each of us has different things piling on us and making us feel overwhelmed. Things that are difficult for you to deal with might be easier for me and vice-versa, but even if we’re all different in the specifics, the generalities are universal. You can only take so much before something needs to change.

We have some specific promises of God to consider in matters like these. He promises through the apostle Paul that we will not be tempted—or tested—beyond what we can bear (see 1 Corinthians 10:13). And perhaps those limits are higher in God’s eyes than they seem to us, but whether it’s on your own or by making use of the support that God provides in your family, friends, neighbors, fellow Christians at church, etc., you will be able to bear up under any kind of testing and temptation.

But that doesn’t mean it won’t feel overwhelming. And God knows that. In fact, he tells us in Psalm 50:15, “Call on me in the day of distress. I will deliver you, and you will honor me.” He acknowledges that there will be distress and hardship, but that prayer is a lifeline for us. When you feel at the brink and edge (or ideally, well before that), God says to call on him and he will rescue you.

But, sometimes things we thought were good in our lives are revealed to be bad, and things that we thought were bad are revealed to be good. This isn’t exactly the kind of epiphany that we want to make, because it probably means suffering and hardship. Yet, do God’s promises still apply even in those instances? Even when we got things really mixed up?

This morning, in our Second Reading, we have a very specific illustration of this kind of epiphany. The apostle Paul, who had been granted many blessings along with his challenges, noted that “so that [he] would not become arrogant,” God allowed what he calls “a thorn in his flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment” him.

Plenty of attempts have been made to guess what this thorn in the flesh was, and we’re not going to spend much time on that here this morning because most of it boils down to speculation. However, we can probably say this much: it was most likely some kind of physical ailment, as it is something in the flesh, and it was likely something that Paul saw as hindering his work as a gospel minister.

So what does Paul do? He takes up God on his promise and calls on him in his trouble—three times! And perhaps in a different way than you and I have ever experienced, Jesus answers his prayers and pleading directly, but it’s not what Paul wants to hear, “My grace is sufficient for you, because my power is made perfect in weakness.” Put that another way: “No, Paul, I will not take this away from you. I will be with you to empower you to endure it, but this thorn remains. And it is to this end: pairing your obvious weaknesses with the blessings that I give, you will see that the credit belongs to me, not you, and that your true strength is external in me, not internal within yourself.” If Jesus removed the thorn, the temptation would be stronger for Paul to boast in himself—in his work—rather than seeing Jesus’ power at work through him.

So, Paul had to resign himself to the fact that it was God’s will to let this hindrance and difficulty remain. He had to trust what God was doing and know that even if he didn’t understand it, he would trust that God was keeping his promises and doing what was best for him.

Our new district president, Pastor Heckendorf, attended our circuit pastors’ meeting this past Monday. While studying this text for this weekend’s sermon, he offered up a phrase that has stuck with me since he said it: “It is easy to trust God, until you have to trust God.” Trusting God is easy when you don’t feel like you’re leaning on him. When the income is comfortable, the food is plentiful, the home is sound, the health is solid—do you trust God? Of course! But when everything is good, that’s not really difficult. When God feels like the third or fifth or tenth line of defense, of course we trust God!

But what happens when the thorns in the flesh come for us? What happens when it feels like there are no other lines of defense—that I’m left trusting God alone because there’s nothing else to rely on? What about that challenge at work or even in securing a job? What about the health scare with no clear treatment options? What about the relationships with family or friends that are just wilting away, and no matter what you do, you can’t fix or change it? Do you struggle with God in prayer regarding these issues? Do you turn to your heavenly Father, who loves you dearly, and ask him to bring relief and solutions to these matters? Do you remind God of his promises that he won’t let you be overwhelmed and will provide a way out—and that he’ll work all things for your eternal good?

I hope you do. However, I know I’m not always so good at that. Perhaps I pray once, nothing changes, and then I give up. Or I assume that God’s answer to me is the same as it was for Paul, a firm, “No.” And so I ignore all of God’s promises to deliver me in the day of trouble, all of his direction to pray to him persistently, and I just stop—and perhaps begin to sink under the weight of these crosses and suffer at the pain of these thorns.

But, my brothers and sisters, what joy and relief we leave on the table when we just give up. Petition your God! Plead with him! He has not left you or abandoned you; your prayers are not being shouted into the void. They are coming before the God who loves you, who has saved you from your sins, who gave up his life that you would have freedom from death and hell and the certainty of eternal life with him. And with every decision that he makes, everything he allows in our lives, whether good or bad (from our point of view), he allows with a purpose, and that purpose is always focused on eternity.

Paul had the thorn that wouldn’t be taken away so that he didn’t get full of himself and start trusting in himself for salvation rather than Jesus. Perhaps some suffering in your life is being used for the same purpose—to keep you focused and reminded of how dependent you are—we all are—on God alone. We cannot get rid of our sins, but he has. We can’t make good come from bad, but he will. We cannot enter the gates of heaven on our own, but he draws us to himself.

Paul identifying this thorn as a “messenger of Satan” is something that has really stood out to me this week, and I can’t help but think about God’s conversation with Satan at the very beginning of the book of Job. All of Job’s troubles, to a certain extent, begin because God is bragging on how faithful Job is. At that time, God said to Satan, “Have you considered my servant Job? There is no one like him on the earth, a man who is blameless and upright, who fears God and turns away from evil” (Job 1:8). Satan scoffs at this. Satan replies that Job is only faithful because God has given him many blessings and kept him physically safe. “But,”Satan argues, “just stretch out your hand and strike everything that is his, and he will certainly curse you to your face!” (Job 1:11). Surprisingly, God’s response to Satan’s challenge is to agree, but with limits. First, Satan cannot hurt Job himself, only the things near and dear to him (Job 1:12). And then, he can only affect Job’s health, but not take his life (Job 2:6).

And this has had me wondering—is God bragging on you? Is he holding you up to even Satan and saying, “Have you considered my servant, [Fill In Your Name Here]?” And perhaps, has Satan crafted a snarky response giving some crummy reason for your faith and dependence on God? And has God, knowing that the faith he’s given you is much more robust than that, given Satan permission to do something that would feel bad to us to test us, to try to pull us away from our faith in Jesus as Savior?

And if all of those things happened for you, and you stand your ground in your faith despite these thorns in the flesh, what does that say? Well, first it says to Satan that he’s wrong, you are not so easily overcome. And as Jesus said, his power is made perfect in weakness, so when the earthly props that we are leaning on get kicked out from under us, does God use those moments to help us depend on him even more than we used to? Does he put so many things in our lives that we have no control over to allow us (or force us) to say, “Lord, please help me—in the way that is best according to your will!”?

By holding fast to your Savior in good times and bad, you are focusing your life and attention where it should be: on Jesus. At the same time, you might be proving God right and Satan wrong. Satan was allowed to do something nasty to you, to send his messenger to you, to scourge you with these thorns. What does it matter? To live is Christ, to die is gain. Even if all is taken from me, our Savior’s power is still complete to save us; his grace is, indeed, sufficient for our needs.

Of course, we still pray for relief when bad and troublesome things are in our lives. That’s what those who have gone before us have done (like the apostle Paul), and that is what God himself tells us to do. But as we deal with these thorns, these sufferings, these hardships—whatever they may be—we are also freed to ask the question, “If God is not going to take this away, then he’s using it for good. I know that his power is made perfect in weakness. So, what good might he be working from this?”

We may never have an answer to that question until we can ask God directly in heaven, but we can know what God’s plan ultimately is: he wants us to be with him forever in heaven. And so, he’s freed us from our sins and allows all things in this life—both good and bad—to keep us focused not just on the here and now but on the eternity that lies ahead of us. That eternity is the free gift that our Savior won for us through his life and death in our place.

Is Jesus’ grace really sufficient for you? Absoultely. Both today and through eternity. Amen.

"You're Sending Whom...?" (Sermon on Luke 5:1-11) | February 9, 2025

Sermon Text: Luke 5:1-11
Date: February 9, 2025
Event: The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany, Year C

Luke 5:1-11 (EHV)

One time, while the crowd was pressing in on Jesus and listening to the word of God, he was standing by the Lake of Gennesaret. 2He saw two boats there along the lakeshore. The fishermen had left them and were washing their nets. 3Jesus got into one of the boats, which belonged to Simon, and asked him to put out a little from the shore. He sat down and began teaching the crowds from the boat. 4When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water, and let down your nets for a catch.”

5Simon answered him, “Master, we worked hard all through the night and caught nothing. But at your word I will let down the nets.” 6When they had done this, they caught a great number of fish, and their nets were about to tear apart. 7They signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. They came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. 8When Simon Peter saw this, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, because I am a sinful man, Lord.” 9For Peter and all those with him were amazed at the number of fish they had caught, 10and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon.

Jesus said to Simon, “Have no fear. From now on you will be catching people.”

11After they brought their boats to the shore, they left everything and followed him.

You’re Sending Whom…?

I don’t watch it often, but I love the PBS show Antiques Road Show. If you haven’t seen it, the basic premise is this: people attend an event and bring in old things they have in their homes (perhaps displayed, perhaps stashed away in the attic) to have them appraised. They film many of the appraisals, and the interesting ones tend to be aired on the show. Sometimes they’re interesting because the person is sure they’re sitting on a small fortune, only to discover that what they have isn’t worth much. On the other hand, sometimes people bring something in and it ends up worth 10, 100, or even 1000x what they thought it might be.

As these surprisingly high valuations settle on the people, often you see them looking at things differently. Often, they start handling the item more carefully; some people suddenly start talking about insuring it. Because if you suddenly found out you had something worth a whole lot of money, you’d want to protect it, right? And whether you were protecting it as an heirloom to pass down to the next generation or just keeping it safe until it could be sold, you still need to consider how to handle it in the days ahead.

Whether you’ve known it for a long time or only a very short time, if you have something precious, you want to be careful with it. You don’t store a priceless painting outside or leave that fragile piece of pottery in the trunk of the car. Whether something is valuable monetarily or sentimentally, you are careful with it.

There’s nothing more valuable in this life, in the world, than the gospel message. The certainty that Jesus has removed every sin is eternally valuable, and all the world’s wealth combined can’t even touch its worth. And considering all it cost Jesus to accomplish it—his very life!—you would rightly assume that he will be careful with it and ensure that it is safe and in good hands.

And while that is true, the way Jesus entrusts this message to be shared is surprising. We’d assume that perhaps he’d take the lead in sharing this with the world. After all, who would be better equipped to share the gospel than the one who accomplished it? Or perhaps, if not Jesus himself, then the angels. After all, the term “angel” means “messenger.” After God himself, who better to share this good news than God’s official messenger force?

But then we see scenes like we saw last weekend in our First Reading where God said to Jeremiah, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born, I set you apart. I appointed you to be a prophet to the nations” (Jeremiah 1:5). And what was Jeremiah’s response? “Ah, Lord God! I really do not know how to speak! I am only a child!” (Jeremiah 1:6). In other words, “Um, Lord, you’re sending whom…? Me? Oh, that doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

We saw a very similar scene in our First Reading this morning. Isaiah takes in the scene in heaven and is terrified even to be there, never mind being a messenger for this perfect God, “I am doomed! I am ruined, because I am a man with unclean lips, and I dwell among a people with unclean lips, and because my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of Armies!” (Isaiah 6:5). Until one of the angels intervenes with a coal from the altar, Isaiah can’t fathom how he could ever serve in this capacity.

And in our Gospel for this morning, which is our primary focus for our meditation, we see Peter freaking out in a way very consistent with Isaiah’s encounter with God. He falls in fear before Jesus at the unprecedented catch of fish, saying, “Go away from me, because I am a sinful man, Lord.”  

Scripture is filled with unwilling, terrified, and seemingly inappropriate human messengers for God. The apostle Paul persecuted the Christian church until Jesus corrected and called him on the road to Damascus. When Moses spoke to God in the burning bush, he gave God a similar line to Jeremiah’s: he didn’t know how to speak. And the prophet Jonah was so unwilling to be God’s messenger to the heathen city of Nineveh, that he got in a boat headed the exact opposite direction that God had told him to go, until a terrifying dip in a stormy sea and three nights in a giant fish’s digestive system put him back on the right track (mostly).

To one degree or another, these human reactions to God’s call make sense because God’s actions don’t make sense to us. Why is God entrusting this priceless message to fallible human messengers? Everyone he calls, willing or not, is at least a sinner and thus flawed to the very core. And many don’t seem to have the gifts one would think would be necessary for this work. Jeremiah, Moses, and Paul all mention how they’re not good speakers, and God’s answer is always the same; as God calls these faltering lips, he assures them that he’ll be with them and give them the words they are to share.

This morning’s Gospel has two epiphanies—revelations—about Jesus. The first is the most obvious one. The professional fisherman had been at their work all night (which was the ideal time to catch fish) and came away with nothing. But, Peter’s respect for Jesus is so great that he agrees to try again at the worst time of day to catch fish, even dirtying nets they had already spent time cleaning. And what happens? A catch of fish so great that it strained the nets to the breaking point and even threatened to sink two boats. Quite a change from an empty night’s work!

Jesus reveals himself, again, to be God. In a miracle not unlike the water changed into wine at Cana that we saw a few weeks ago or the healings we saw in Capernaum last week, this miracle stresses who Jesus really is. He’s not some layman who has a hunch about how these professionals can do their job better. No, he is the one who made the lake they’re on and created the fish they will catch. This is why Peter, like Isaiah, reacts in such fear before God, falling before him. For Peter, this miracle went well beyond underscoring the message Jesus taught. Instead, it made him fearful to even be in Jesus’ presence. He knew who he was, a sinful man, and that sinners cannot be in God’s presence and ever hope to survive.

And here is the second epiphany: the New Testament’s gospel ministry will be no different than the Old Testament’s gospel ministry. In the past God sent fallible prophets to proclaim his Word, only very rarely intervening directly to send an angel as his messenger. Here, too, Jesus reveals this will also be the plan: “Have no fear. From now on you will be catching people.” Peter, James, and John would trade in their nets and boats for God’s Word and come away with a “catch” that would be far more important than a ship full of fish: they would share the message of forgiveness in Jesus with the world!

Which, fortunately or unfortunately (depending on your perspective), comes back around to you and me. Who is tasked with sharing God’s Word with others? Well, look around. There aren’t any angels speaking and God isn’t making his presence visibly known and teaching that way. No, you have a deeply flawed mouthpiece here called to be your pastor. The young child hears God’s Word from sinful parents and imperfect Sunday School teachers. Your neighbor across the fence or seatmate on the airplane or train may have a gospel-sharer who makes mistakes, forgets things, and is sometimes overcome by fear and anxiety.

But this is the system God has set up. This is how he’s chosen to bring saving faith to people. He restricts himself to using the means of grace, this gospel message found in his Word and sacraments. And far more often than not, that Word is shared by faltering lips and stumbling tongues, because it’s shared by people like you and me.

We may wonder about the wisdom of God’s plan, but remember that the messengers sharing Jesus also are the ones who benefit from what Jesus has done. We know what it is to be forgiven, whereas the angels and even Jesus himself do not. This is our lived experience, and I believe you can see this choice of messengers for the gospel message as a feature, not a bug; as a blessing, not a detriment. You can share what it means not just that sins are forgiven generally or even that the people listening to you are forgiven, but that your specific sins are forgiven in the blood of Jesus. That’s a powerful advantage to bring to this work that no angel could ever provide.

So, despite all the challenges we bring to the table, God has still called us to share, invite, and call people to hear his good news of sins forgiven. He has entrusted the precious gospel to us. My dear brothers and sisters, let us work together so that we might not cower in fear at this opportunity asking God to go away from us. Instead, when God gives us the chance and in so-doing asks, “Whom will I send? Who will go for us?” may we answer, with humility and joy, “Here I am! Send me!” (Isaiah 6:8). We are forgiven! Let us throw our gospel nets into the sea of this world! Let us share that forgiveness! Amen.

"What Does Gospel Success Look Like?" (Sermon on 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5) | February 2, 2025

Sermon Text: 2 Timothy 3:14-4:5
Date: February 2, 2025
Event: The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany, Year C

2 Timothy 3:14-4:5 (EHV)

As for you, continue in the things you have learned and about which you have become convinced. You know from whom you learned them 15and that from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 16All Scripture is God breathed and is useful for teaching, for rebuking, for correcting, and for training in righteousness, 17so that the man of God may be complete, well equipped for every good work.

4:1I solemnly charge you in the presence of God and Christ Jesus, who is going to judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom: 2Preach the word. Be ready whether it is convenient or not. Correct, rebuke, and encourage, with all patience and teaching. 3For there will come a time when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, because they have itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in line with their own desires. 4They will also turn their ears away from the truth and will turn aside to myths.

5As for you, keep a clear head in every situation. Bear hardship. Do the work of an evangelist. Fulfill your ministry.

What Does Gospel Success Look Like?

Keep at it. Keep pushing. Fake it ‘til you make it. These sorts of encouragements are often shared with those who are finding the path ahead of them difficult. Maybe they’re trying to set new personal records at the gym, and just can’t seem to break through that plateau. Maybe they’ve started a new job or embarked on a new personal project and it has become clear that they are in over their head or didn’t have as solid a command of the material as they thought they did. What’s the encouragement? Keep at it.

But how do you know when you’ve succeeded? How do you know when you’ve reached your goal? In some cases, it’s probably pretty straight forward. If you goal is to be able to life a certain amount of weight on the bench press, and then you do that, then you’ve accomplished that goal. But what about the project at work? Have you found success simply if it’s done? Is there a metric to measure it by? Do you need to rely on other people’s feedback and affirmations to know that you have done something well?

Many aspects of life and work are murky, including our calling as Christians and as a congregation to preach God’s Word to all creation. How do we measure success in that endeavor? What dangers exist when we look to the wrong place for success? What comfort does God have for us in this work?

Last week, we saw two examples of what looked like failure in Gospel ministry: Jesus was rejected in Nazareth, while the leaders in Jerusalem rejected Peter and John’s preaching. At that time we wrestled with what rejection of God’s Word means. Does it mean that the messenger had failed, or even that God had failed? No! If God’s Word was shared the response from the people spoken to is not the measure of failure or success. If they reject the Word clearly and accurately shared, that is on them, not on the one sharing.

But the inverse is also confusing. What does success look like? How can we measure it, or can we measure it? In our Gospel this morning, we saw Jesus find what appeared to be great success, so much so that the people in Capernaum tried to prevent him from going elsewhere! What could be more successful than an adoring crowd begging a messenger from God to stay with them and continue the work among them?

Well, appearances can be deceiving. Entertainers and politicians often try to measure success by numbers and visible metrics. How many people attended that concert? How many movie tickets were sold? How many people were at that rally to hear that speech? If the number is big, that is success; if the number is small, that is failure.

But in our Second Reading for this morning, we have the apostle Paul revealing to young pastor Timothy where his focus should be. And nowhere does Paul mention crowd, audience, or congregation size as where he should be focused. Rather, from Paul’s point of view, inspired by the Holy Spirit, the thing that determines gospel success is faithfulness.

Paul begins our reading with an encouragement that is probably familiar to our ears, especially if we went to Catechism class in our earlier years: As for you, continue in the things you have learned and about which you have become convinced. You know from whom you learned them 15and that from infancy you have known the Holy Scriptures, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. 16All Scripture is God breathed and is useful for teaching, for rebuking, for correcting, and for training in righteousness, 17so that the man of God may be complete, well equipped for every good work.

There is a lot there, more than we have time here this morning to unpack. But very briefly, Paul encourages Timothy above all else to stay faithful to the Word that he was brought up with, because that Word is the flawless, inerrant, inspired Word of God. It is not just a list of rules, or a guidebook that we can pick and choose from as we wish. No, this is the God-breathed will of God given to us, and it should be used for both addressing problems and bulding up people in God’s will, so that everyone may be well equipped to give thanks to God for his forgiveness through their life of good works.

That all sounds great. But what happens when things go awry? What happens when the motivations of messenger and listener get distorted? Paul addresses this: 3For there will come a time when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, because they have itching ears, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in line with their own desires. 4They will also turn their ears away from the truth and will turn aside to myths.

What will happen? People will grow tired of what God has to say and seek other sources of spiritual guidance that are more appealing. Perhaps this messenger emphasizes self-help that offers visible, practical benefits for people in their daily lives. Maybe this messenger understands that people prefer not to dwell on the negative aspects of God’s law and tends to avoid discussing sin, death, or hell, instead focusing on God’s love and peace.

There’s a lot of talk about echo chambers in our modern-day, internet-connected world. But this is not a new concept. The idea of wanting to surround yourself with people who think like you (or perhaps even cater and tailor their message to your desires and interests) is about as old as humanity itself. Many people—even ostensibly Christian preachers—have made quite a name for themselves by scratching people’s itchy ears, by just saying what the people want to hear and reinforcing their preconceived notions. That is a much more popular tact than challenging people to expand their thinking and challenge their feelings because that work is hard and uncomfortable, and I, generally, would rather not do it.

For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever forget my conversation with a Christian who was looking to join a congregation outside of our fellowship after doing some “church shopping.” “Pastor,” the person said, “these other churches are full.” And there it was. What was the metric for measuring success for this person? How many people were there? But what about the message being shared from God’s Word? Was it correct? Was it complete?

So, what is actual success when it comes to the gospel ministry? What is actual success when it comes to congregational ministry? Well, Paul tells us in his encouragement to Timothy: 1I solemnly charge you in the presence of God and Christ Jesus, who is going to judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom: 2Preach the word. Be ready whether it is convenient or not. Correct, rebuke, and encourage, with all patience and teaching. … [K]eep a clear head in every situation. Bear hardship. Do the work of an evangelist. Fulfill your ministry. Notice what is missing here? Nothing about the people's reaction, the crowd's size, or the message's popularity. Success in gospel ministry is dictated by faithfulness by God’s messengers.

That means that we will not shift our message as a congregation to meet the social norms of the day. While there’s certainly no reason to be acidic in our communities, we will not compromise God’s words to make other people happy or more comfortable. We will continue to press each other with God’s law, urging one another to see our sins and failures before God and recognize what we truly deserve from him: eternal death in hell.

However, we will not sidestep or distort the solution to that eternal problem. Any effort to look within ourselves to improve or reconcile with God is misguided, wrong, and eternally dangerous. Instead, we focus on Jesus and Jesus alone. He alone solves our sins through his death. He alone provides certainty for eternal life through his triumphant resurrection. He alone—his teachings and his work on our behalf—is the center of the entire Bible and, therefore, must be the focus of all of our work in his name.

What does that work look like? It looks like sharing this message with people as you have the opportunity. As Paul told Timothy,“whether it is convenient or not.” It means being in God’s Word ourselves so that we can draw from that Word for this sharing work.

As a result, we will let our lights shine in the world with joy and thankfulness to God for His free and complete forgiveness. This thankfulness means we will show love—true, unconditional love—to everyone. Not just our families or our congregation, but everyone everywhere. That includes showing love to our neighbor with whom we don’t get along, our coworker who can be a bit obnoxious, and the stranger who lives here or on the other side of the world and needs help and support. Perhaps that love starts with earthly kindness, but it always longs to address the more significant, eternal matters of sins forgiven and life in heaven because of Jesus’ work for us.

Faithfulness in our message and how we live our lives is the key to success in gospel ministry. Are we proclaiming God’s Word clearly and accurately? Can people learn from us what God has done to save the world, to save us, to save them? Then, regardless of the response, we’re fulfilling what God has called us to do. And what about the impact of the Word on the hearts of those who hear? Well, that is God’s work, not ours, so in our faithfulness, let’s not worry about the response and let God be God, doing what he has reserved for himself to accomplish.

And in all of these things, whether positive or negative, encouraging or discouraging, let us lift up our hearts in joy to the God who has saved us from our sins. The world's response to God’s work doesn’t change God’s work, which means that no matter how many people join us in church or share our confession of faith, our sins are forgiven in the blood of Jesus, and heaven stands waiting for us. The very Word that healed the sick in Capernaum and worked powerfully through Paul’s ministry is also with us. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Rejection Is Not Failure" (Sermon on Acts 4:23-31) | January 26, 2025

Sermon Text: Acts 4:23-31
Date: January 26, 2025
Event: The Third Sunday after Epiphany, Year C

Acts 4:23-31 (EHV)

After Peter and John were released, they went to their own friends and reported everything the high priests and the elders had said. 24When they heard this, with one mind they raised their voices to God and said, “Master, you are the God who made the heaven, the earth, the sea, and everything in them. 25By the Holy Spirit, through the mouth of our father David, your servant, you said:

Why do the nations rage
and the peoples plot in vain?
26The kings of the earth take their stand,
and the rulers are gathered together
against the Lord
and against his Anointed One.

27“For certainly, in this city both Herod and Pontius Pilate, along with the Gentiles and people of Israel, were gathered together against your holy servant Jesus, whom you anointed. 28They did whatever your hand and your plan had decided beforehand should happen.

29“Now Lord, look at their threats and give to your servants the ability to keep on speaking your word with all boldness 30as you stretch out your hand to heal and as signs and wonders take place through the name of your holy servant Jesus.”

31After they prayed, the place where they were gathered was shaken. Also, everyone was filled with the Holy Spirit, and they continued to speak the word of God with boldness.   

Rejection Is Not Failure

When plans fall apart, it might leave you feeling like you failed. But the things that caused (or hastened) the failure were often out of your control. The picnic plans fall apart because of the rain. The project at work gets cut because of budget decisions far above your job description. The car you intended to keep for a decade or more is totaled because someone wasn’t paying attention and ran into you.

We start second-guessing ourselves, “If only I had picked a different day for the picnic,” “If only I had lobbied to my boss’s boss’s boss to get funding,” “If only I had left the house just a couple of minutes earlier.” And yet in all of those cases, you couldn’t have known and probably you couldn’t have done anything to change things. Couldn’t it have just as easily rained on your alternate picnic day? You don’t control the weather! Sometimes, things, even significant things, fail or go the way we didn’t want them to go, but that’s through no fault or action on our part; it’s just the way things go.

This morning, as we continue our journey through the Epiphany season, we get a clearer and clearer picture of who Jesus is. Last week we saw him as the miracle worker (turning water into wine in Cana) whose miracles pointed to his message that he is, in fact, the Savior. This week, in our Gospel, we see Jesus preaching early on in his ministry—to the people of his hometown even! He’s sharing the very message that the miracles all served to highlight. But what is the result? Not faith but utter rejection; it was rejection so strong that they would sooner murder Jesus, this hometown boy, rather than listen to another word from his lips.

Jesus’ preaching in Nazareth is not our explicit focus this morning, but it is an account similar to our Second Reading. In the early days after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, the apostles spent a lot of time preaching the good news about Jesus’ victory in Jerusalem—the very place where Jesus said they would start their witnessing work. But, of course, the people who didn’t like Jesus and worked to have him executed just a few months earlier are still in power and, unsurprisingly, are very upsert that these former disciples of Jesus are keeping the name and teaching of this man in front of the people. They saw Jesus as a threat and they see those keeping his memory alive as a threat as well. This was especially concerning for them because the apostles’ work often included working miracles in Jesus’ name which, once again, underscored the validity of their message and also Jesus’ own ministry and his claims about himself.

The leadup to this scene in our Second Reading starts with one of these miracles. Back in Acts 3, Peter and John met a man who was begging in the temple because he had been crippled from birth. Peter told him to look at them. Then Luke tells us, “The man paid close attention to them, expecting to receive something from them. But Peter said, ‘Silver and gold I do not have, but what I have I will give you. In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, get up and walk!’ Peter took him by the right hand and raised him up, and immediately the man’s feet and ankles were made strong. Jumping up, he stood and began to walk. He entered the temple courts with them, walking, jumping, and praising God” (Acts 3:5-8).

This, understandably, caused quite a commotion. It gathered a crowd of some size, enough for Peter to take the opportunity to proclaim God’s Word, both law and gospel, to those who came to see what had happened. He gave all glory for the miracle healing to Jesus and then underscored the purpose of Jesus’ work—the forgiveness of people’s sins, even the sins of crucifying the Savior. Peter ended his message by saying, “God raised up his Servant and sent him to you first, to bless you by turning every one of you away from your wicked ways” (Acts 3:26).

Now, this did not go over well with the officials. The Jewish authorities came to where this crowd was gathered and arrested Peter and John. After questioning them, the officials ordered them to stop speaking about Jesus and let them go. This is where our Second Reading picks up: “After Peter and John were released…”

Peter and John’s preaching was largely rejected. The enemies of Jesus remained the enemies of Jesus. And while undoubtedly many in the crowd heard the gospel and through that the Spirit created faith in Jesus as Savior in their hearts, it certainly wasn’t everyone. And in this case, it wasn’t the people who might have seemed to have mattered the most: the influential leaders who could have served as a blessing to sharing the good news with the broader populace rather than a hindrance to it.

But what is the response of Peter, John, and the other believers? With one mind they raised their voices to God. And this raising their voices was not in complaint; they were not grousing to God about the treatment the apostles were undergoing. No, actually, just the opposite. They were praising God that despite the opposition, God’s will was still being done.

They quote Psalm 2, which we gave a detailed look at a few weeks ago, when they ask David’s question, “Why do the nations rage?” And the point they make is the same point we discussed then, that this is not a question of what motivates the enemies of God but more of a question of “Why bother? This isn’t going to work.” Consider what happened at the raging of Herod, Pilate, and those in the crowds who were against Jesus. Not only did they not get rid of the message, but their raging was actually used by God to bring about his purpose. They thought they were winning a great victory by nailing Jesus to the cross, but God worked it so that that was the payment for sin, that was the promises coming to fruition, that is our eternal hope.

And so, no rejection and anger on people’s part is going to be able to stifle God. But rejection will come. Jesus faced it, the apostles faced it, and we have and will continue to face it as we share the good news about Jesus. What do we do with that? How do we think about that? If the world rejects us when we share about God’s love because the world just wants people to do their own thing, or hate people who are different than them, or rage against God, is that a failure for us? What should we do?

How did Jesus handle the rejection by the people of Nazareth? As they dragged him to the edge of the cliff to kill him, he passed through the middle of them and went on his way (Luke 14:30). How did the apostles and those with them deal with the rejection by the people in Jerusalem? They continued to speak the word of God with boldness. Rejection does not mean you have failed; rejection doesn’t mean you did something wrong. Rejection of the gospel is to be expected, but the path forward is to continue on the path, share God’s love, and not let Satan use that rejection to discourage or stop the good news from going out into the world. Jesus left Nazareth and the apostles quickly began to widen out beyond Jerusalem and Judea. It may be that in rejection, we change our audience. But we continue to share this Word with the world. And we know that, in the end, faith in this message is God’s work, not ours. And he has promised that his Word will not return empty (Isaiah 55:10-11).

In all of this, we have something about God revealed to us, a clearer sense of who God is, an epiphany:  He is not a God who forces love and obedience. While he is truly the God who made the heaven, the earth, the sea, and everything in them, he does not make us robots who cannot help but listen to and obey him. Instead, he does all things for us; he forgives every sin and invites us to love and thank him in response to this glorious, eternal gift.

And in rejection, he doesn’t destroy those who reject. He didn’t call down fire and destroy the people of Nazareth who rejected him; he just left. He didn’t wipe out those who arrested Peter and John; he let them just move on. It’s not that he doesn’t care, in fact, it’s precisely because he does care. Would those people in Nazareth have other opportunities to hear the gospel, to reconsider their rejection? I hope so! So, too, for someone who might reject God’s Word at our sharing as individuals or as a congregation, perhaps we are not the people to see the fruit come forth. Perhaps we are just a cog in the machine, and that later, through someone else’s sharing of his Word, God will work faith in that person. There is time to share as long as a person is still here.

So don’t let rejection equal failure in your heart and mind. Instead, commend these things to God who promises to do what he knows is right when he knows the time is right. As for us? Let us continue to speak the word of God with boldness! Amen.

"Jesus' Power Brings About Faith" (Sermon on John 2:1-11) | January 19, 2025

Sermon Text: John 2:1-11
Date: January 19, 2025
Event: The Second Sunday after Epiphany, Year C

John 2:1–11 (EHV)

Three days later, there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there. 2Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the wedding.

3When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, “They have no wine.”

4Jesus said to her, “Woman, what does that have to do with you and me? My time has not come yet.”

5His mother said to the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

6Six stone water jars, which the Jews used for ceremonial cleansing, were standing there, each holding twenty or thirty gallons. 7Jesus told them, “Fill the jars with water.” So they filled them to the brim. 8Then he said to them, “Now draw some out and take it to the master of the banquet.” And they did.

9When the master of the banquet tasted the water that had now become wine, he did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew). The master of the banquet called the bridegroom 10and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and when the guests have had plenty to drink, then the cheaper wine. You saved the good wine until now!”

11This, the beginning of his miraculous signs, Jesus performed in Cana of Galilee. He revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him.

Jesus’ Power Brings About Faith

If you’ve ever adopted a pet from a group like the Humane Society or an animal rescue, you’re probably familiar with all the hoops you need to jump through to complete the adoption. These groups will not just hand over an animal to you because you walked through the door and had the cash for the adoption fee. They ask for information, if you rent your home they want clearance from the landlord that it’s ok for you to have a pet. They want to know who your vet is to get a clear idea of how you’re caring for any current pets or pets from the past.

Why do they go through all of that work and make you supply that information? They are looking out for the well-being of the animals They want clear indications, clear signs, that you are a person or family that would take good care of an animal. They don’t want you to have a pet if it will be overwhelming (a large dog with behavior issues probably isn’t right for a family with newborn twins) or if you simply are not fit to take care of the animal. This process ideally indicates both the pet’s fit in your home and your home’s fit for the pet.

In Catechism, we learn that one of the significant differences between God and people is that God can read the heart while we cannot. The people at the animal shelter can go on some signs, but they can’t actually know that someone is a suitable adopter because they can’t know the person’s heart and mind. So they have to go on outward signs, outward indications of what’s happening inside a person, their ability ot care for and their intentions with an animal, and make a judgment call.

Have you ever wondered why there seemed to be so many more miracles throughout the Old and New Testaments than we see today? On the one hand, I think we get a little bit of a misguided sense of that, because the Scriptures tend to cover those special events and tend to skip over more “quiet” times of history. It’s not like God was turning rivers to blood every other week—that happened once in Egypt. But the miracles, whether in Moses’ or Jesus’ day, served a purpose. They were authenticating to the message that was being proclaimed. Essentially, every miracle performed through one of God’s messengers was God setting up a giant flashing neon sign pointing at that messenger, telling everyone around, “HEY! LISTEN TO HIM!”

Why was that more important then than it is now? Because they didn’t have the Scriptures written, complete, and preserved, like we do today. Consider Moses’ day—there was no written Bible. Moses himself wrote the first five books of the Old Testament, so the people had nothing to go on to check to see if what Moses said was true. One of Moses’ big concerns when God called him at the burning bush was that no one would believe God had sent him. So, God equipped Moses to work miracles with the staff that was in his hand.

This is the same reason that Jesus worked his miracles. It wasn’t because he had come to heal people from their physical ailments or because he wanted everyone to have a nice meal when they were far away from being able to purchase food. No, they were to draw attention to and underscore the validity of Jesus’ claims. They made it clear to the people that they should listen to what Jesus had to say.

But even that is jumping far ahead into Jesus’ ministry, isn’t it? Where we are in our Gospel is at the very start. Jesus has been baptized—anointed and installed for his work as the Messiah—as we saw last week. He’s called a couple of his disciples to follow him. But there were no crowds. Few people would have known his name. This scene in the wedding at Cana in John 2 is one the earliest moments in Jesus’ public ministry.

Jesus and his disciples attend the wedding with Mary, Jesus’ mother. Jewish weddings, especially at this time, could be a week-long celebration. Running out of wine early on in the celebration would point either to the family’s poor planning or slim resources. Whatever the reason, running out would have been an difficult embarrassment.

Before anyone knows that the wine at the wedding is gone, Mary asks Jesus to help. Jesus clarifies that his mother does not get to dictate when and how he conducts his ministry, but we also see Jesus’ heart to help this family. So he works a miracle. This miracles has become so well-known that it transcends the Christian faith so that even pop culture will refer to “turning water into wine” as a phrase to describe doing the impossible or turning something of seemingly low value into something of high value.

This was the first miracle of Jesus’ public ministry and very likely his first miracle ever. As we go through this Epiphany season, as we see Jesus do his work, Jesus will show us who he really is. He is not some charismatic guy who was able to get people to follow him because of his personality. He is the one who was worthy of the angelic announcement at his birth, the long journey of the Wise Men, and the joyful praise of the Father at his baptism.

Can you trust Jesus? When he promises that his death paid for your sins, can you believe that? Is it reliable when he promises that his resurrection has also opened your grave and that because he lives, you too will live? Well, journey again to Cana. Enjoy the wedding reception and note that the one who has promised your sins are forgiven can turn giant jugs of water into the finest wine that the sommelier of the day had tasted.

That power is a résumé that speaks volumes. What authority does Jesus have to make such audacious claims about your sin? Look at what he has the power to do; look at the signs. He can turn water into wine. He can heal the sick, feed the hungry, and even raise the dead. And he does so not because God is doing it for him or through him; he’s doing it of his own accord because he is the promised Savior, true God and true man, that you and I need.

That power reveals Jesus to be trustworthy—worthy of our faith. Jesus’ disciples at the banquet understood that. After this singular miracle, we’re told he revealed his glory, and his disciples believed in him. Of course, in the end, it wasn’t the miracles that did that, was it? It was the Holy Spirit. They didn’t just believe because of the miracles but because of the Word Jesus preached. The miracles, from the very first one, did their job, though. They pointed out that this Jesus was worth listening to, and through that lisenting, the Spirit worked faith—trust—in the hearts of his people.

He does the same for you and me today. By faith, we know that the accounts in God’s Word are not just fables and myths but actual events. The miracles that Jesus worked, as inexplicable as they may be, were real and happened. Even after being removed from these miracles by about 2,000 years, they still hold value as signs revealing Jesus to be trustworthy.

So, Jesus’ power brings about faith. You know Jesus’ power and authority and that he can be trusted. So his promise of complete forgiveness in his death for you is unquestionable. His promise that he’s applied his perfect life to your record is sure. His promise that because he’s been raised from the dead you, too, will rise, is inevitable. The one who turns water into wine turns your hell into heaven. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Do You Laugh with the Lord?" (Sermon on Psalm 2:1-7) | January 12, 2025

Sermon Text: Psalm 2:1-7
Date: January 12, 2025
Event: The Baptism of Our Lord, Year C

Psalm 2:1–7 (EHV)
Why do the nations rage?
Why do the peoples grumble in vain?
2The kings of the earth take a stand,
and the rulers join together
against the LORD
and against his Anointed One.
3“Let us tear off their chains
and throw off their ropes from us.”
4The one who is seated in heaven laughs.
The Lord scoffs at them.
5Then he speaks to them in his anger,
and in his wrath he terrifies them.
6“I have installed my King on Zion, my holy mountain.”
7I will proclaim the decree of the LORD.
He said to me:
“You are my Son.
Today I have begotten you.”

Do You Laugh with the Lord?

Have you ever been in a situation so bad, frustrating, or seemingly hopeless that all you could do was laugh? Why is that a gut reaction for us sometimes? I assume it’s a response to things we can’t control, things that are sometimes so out of reach that it almost begins to be funny.

That laughter or “humor” (if we can call it that) is a dark, hopeless laughter. I can’t do anything but laugh. But it’s not expressing the joy that laughter often communicates. It’s certainly not expressing something funny or entertaining. So, there are many reasons someone might laugh at the situation around them, some of them positive but sometimes very negative.

In Psalm 2, we get some behind-the-scenes look at God’s actions, and perhaps one of the most surprising is that the one who is seated in heaven laughs. What kind of laughter is this? Joyful? Funny? Hopeless? What is going on here? And if God is laughing at the events surrounding him, do we join him in that laughter?

The psalm writer sets a scene that was familiar in ancient days and continues to be familiar today: Why do the nations rage? Why do the peoples grumble in vain? The kings of the earth take a stand, and the rulers join together against the LORD and against his Anointed One. “Let us tear off their chains and throw off their ropes from us.” The nations, and especially the powerful people in them, are taking their stand against God. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? When was the last time you saw someone who was truly influential in the world and you thought, “This person really has their moral compass calibrated completely correctly. What they say and do is in line with God’s will!”? I don’t know that I could list many examples...

Being on this side of it, that’s kind of scary. When the world around us seems to have their sights set on God’s will, trying to rebuff it, ignore it, and even change it, what will we do to stop them? To redirect it? If the most powerful, influential, and wealthy people in the world want to try to rip off what they see as chains and ropes from God and even encourage others to do so as well, so that the nations and people rage and grumble against God, what can we do? Does this feel like a hopeless situation?

It might. But then we look at God’s reaction. The one who is seated in heaven laughs. The Lord scoffs at them. The Lord laughs. But what is in this laugh? Is it a laugh of fear and hopelessness because all of these powerful forces have taken their stand against him? No! This is the laugh that might come out of me when I see one of the cats reaching and reaching and reaching under the refrigerator to retrieve a lost toy that is hopelessly out of their reach. They’re trying so hard, but it’s never going to work. It’s almost funny, but there’s also a little sadness at the effort’s futility.

This reaction from God helps us to understand precisely what the psalm writer is getting at in the first verse of this psalm. When he asks, “Why do the nations rage?” it’s not an inquiry about motives. He’s not wondering what drives someone to do this. It’s “Why?” more like “What are you doing? What do you hope to accomplish? What is the point?” Because he knows that no matter how powerful you are, to take a stand against God is to lose.

That point is driven home by what God says next and how he says it, “Then he speaks to them in his anger, and in his wrath he terrifies them. ‘I have installed my King on Zion, my holy mountain.’ ” This raging of the nations against God is not laughable to be ignored and dismissed. This open rebellion against God is a real problem he doesn’t allow to stand. So, in his anger and wrath, he points to the King—the real ruler—he has placed over everything.

This installation, placing, and anointing of this King is what we are focused on here this morning. What is spoken of as true from eternity here in the psalm happened in time as Jesus came to the Jordan River to be baptized by John. This moment—as Jesus is baptized, the Holy Spirit descends as a dove, and the Father’s voice booms from heaven—is the formal start of Jesus’ ministry.

Why is the Messiah’s installation pointed to as proof that no rulers of this world can do anything against God? We do well to pay close attention to a very small detail in our text, one that might not have stood out at all when we read these verses and honestly could be chalked up to a typo in our worship folder, but it’s not. It’s very important.

Look at the word “Lord” in our psalm. In vv. 2 and 7, it’s in all capital letters (LORD), and in v. 4 it’s in normal lettering (Lord). This is intentional because it reflects the careful wording of the Hebrew verses of this psalm. When that name is printed in all capital letters, it is God's special covenant name. This is God’s unique name, Yahweh, that emphasizes his grace and his mercy. So who are the nations and people raging against in v. 2? The covenant God of grace. Whose decree is the Messiah proclaiming in v. 7? The covenant God of grace.

But then, in v. 4, God is responding to this open rebellion. His name is no longer listed as the God of grace, but a more generic “Lord,” which we might sometimes translate as “master” or “ruler.” This name emphasizes God’s sovereignty and his authority. This name reminds the nations that they are not in charge; God is. He is the Lord.

So, the rebellion is against the God of love and mercy. The peoples of the earth don’t want to hear from God about anything, and certainly not about sin and forgiveness. And while that might strike us as a touch strange, we need to carefully consider how unpleasant it is to be told we are not only not in charge, but that we are accountable to someone else—to God—and that we haven’t met his expectations. The message of God’s law is deeply unpleasant, so much so that the sinful nature will do anything it possibly can to get rid of it, even trying to stage a coup against God. If we are accountable to God and we can get rid of him, then we would be free, right?

Well, as we said before, to take a stand against God is to lose. So, no, the path to freedom doesn’t go through open rebellion against God because you won’t get rid of him. And people with that mindset and goal will be crushed. But even the sovereign, ruling God points to the Messiah as proof that he can’t be thwarted. Why? Because the Messiah is the solution to all of this. “I have installed my King on Zion, my holy mountain.”

Jesus’ work is one of mercy, but it’s also one of exclusivity. If you and I want to be rid of our sins and be right with God, Jesus is the only way. So, from a law perspective, if you’re not with Jesus, you’re lost. But from a gospel perspective, Jesus is everything you could need for eternity.

This part of the psalm ends with the Messiah speaking. I will proclaim the decree of the LORD (the God of grace!). He said to me: “You are my Son. Today I have begotten you.” Sound familiar? We heard essentially this exact phrase from the Father at Jesus’ baptism, “You are my Son, whom I love. I am well pleased with you.” What does it mean for the God of grace to call the Messiah his Son? It shows their profound unity of purpose.

God’s plan is not just to be the vengeful, terrifying, wrath-filled God that punishes open rebellion. If it comes to that, he certainly will, but he prefers a far different approach. He would much rather solve this with his grace. So he sends his Son to take the place of these rebellious, sinful people—you and me included. We hear more details about this relationship at his baptism: I am well pleased with you. If God is well-pleased with anything, it is perfect. So here, in Jesus’ anointing, we have not just a connection shown, but Jesus’ value is made clear. Here is the perfect Son of God who has been sent to rescue us and all mankind from our sins.

What does all of this mean for us? Let’s return to our original question: do you laugh with the Lord? When it comes to what some might call the crumbling of society, living in a post-Christian world, or however else people might choose to despair when they see what they view as the downfall of society, do we need to panic? No! This is not anything new. It’s been happening since the beginning, and it will continue to happen until the end. But in the meantime, we can laugh with God. This can be a laugh of certainty, not despair and hopelessness. These nations, these people, these powerful forces raging against God are no more than the kitty desperately trying to get the ball from under the fridge with no hope of ever reaching it.

Because Jesus, God’s Son, won the victory over sin, death, and hell, we know that we do not need to join the nations in this rebellion against God. The solution to our eternal problems is not getting rid of God; rather, it’s the plan God has set in place. He has installed his King, his Messiah, our Savior, as champion and ruler of all. He is the one who willingly started this formal work at his baptism, knowing full well it led to the cross. The one who judges the earth, who rules all things, is the same one who loved you and me enough to die in our place. And so complete was his victory that not even the grave could hold him.

So, my brothers and sisters, do not despair over your sins or how they affect your relationship with God. The covenant God of grace forgives you for Jesus’ sake. And as you see the world in open opposition to God, do not fret or fear. Instead, you can laugh with God. Laugh, knowing how hopeless their raging is in the long run, how they will not be able to overthrow God or do anything to change his promises or his work. With that confidence, we can approach those who rage with the comfort and assurance of God’s mercy in Jesus to show them they are not chained or bound by God but that he has released them from their sin just as he has released us from ours.

The results of sharing the gospel can lead to real, joyful, even ecstatic laughter as we and many more join in the perfection of eternal life that Jesus has won for us. Here before us is God’s Son, God’s King, the one who, despite appearance to the contrary, will conquer sin, death, and hell in his death so that all of us, purified from sin, can be called the children of God. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Do You Consider Yourself Worthy of Eternal Life?" (Sermon on Acts 13:46-49) | January 5, 2025

Sermon Text: Acts 13:46-49
Date: January 5, 2025
Event: The Epiphany of our Lord (Observed), Year C

Acts 13:46-49 (EHV)

Then Paul and Barnabas responded fearlessly, “It was necessary that God’s word be spoken to you first. But since you reject it and consider yourselves unworthy of eternal life, look: We are now turning to the Gentiles! 47For this is what the Lord has instructed us:

I have made you a light for the Gentiles,

that you may bring salvation to the end of the earth.”

48When the Gentiles heard this, they were rejoicing and praising the word of the Lord. All who had been appointed for eternal life believed.

49And the word of the Lord was being carried through the whole region.

Do You Consider Yourself Worthy of Eternal Life?

Have you ever gotten a gift, maybe this Christmas just finished or sometime in the past, that you felt unworthy to receive? Maybe it was something so personal, so dialed in to you, that you knew you could never, ever give such a thoughtful gift, and rather than appreciating the love and care that went into it, you felt only guilt over the generic nature of the gift you had prepared. Maybe there was a gift so costly that you were embarrassed to think that someone gave you a gift of such value. Perhaps it even left you wondering why they did.

The answer is probably pretty simple: because they care about you. They have talents or resources that they wanted to use for you! But even that can leave us feeling unworthy, that we don’t deserve what has been given to us. But it wasn’t given because you met some standard of worth; it was given because the giver loves you and cares for you.

So it is with God’s gifts. We can be overwhelmed by the unmeasurable scale of all that God provides, physical, spiritual, and eternal. This morning, we want to pause to take a fresh look at those gifts and consider whether or not we should consider ourselves worthy of them.

Our brief Second Reading takes us to Pisidon Antioch, a city in the south-central region of modern-day Turkey, very early on the apostle Paul’s first missionary journey. This city had become important in the area, serving as the region's capital in the Roman Empire. As such, it had a diverse population. As a major Roman city, it would have been predominately populated by Gentiles, people who were not Jewish. But, like most prominent cities in the empire at the time, it served as home for many Jewish people living in the “diaspora” of God’s people worldwide.

So, Paul’s initial audience was the Jewish people worshiping in the synagogue in Antioch. He summarized God’s promised plan of salvation and how it was accomplished through Jesus. Afterward, both Jewish people and Gentile converts to Judaism continued speaking with Paul. Luke records that the next week on the Sabbath, “almost the whole city gathered to hear the word of God” (Acts 13:44). What an audience to hear the good news of God’s forgiveness!

However, as would be an unfortunate theme throughout many of Paul’s missionary journeys, a segment of the Jewish people did not want to believe in Jesus as Savior or even allow this message to be shared. Here in Psidian Antioch, we’re told that the Jewish people who rejected this message were filled with envy and began to contradict what Paul was saying by slandering him” (Acts 13:45). To these actions, Paul and Barnabas responded fearlessly.

Paul’s fearless message is short and cutting, “It was necessary that God’s word be spoken to you first. But since you reject it and consider yourselves unworthy of eternal life, look: We are now turning to the Gentiles!” For many of the Jewish people, they would not have considered Gentiles to be worthy of God’s mercy; they viewed that as their special privilege. But that’s far from the truth. On this festival of Epiphany, sometimes called Gentiles’ Christmas, we see the nations coming to worship the Savior first in the Wise Men's faith. Jesus wasn’t a Savior for some—he’s a Savior for all.

But Paul’s warning to the Jewish unbelievers in Antioch cuts even for us today. “You … consider yourselves unworthy of eternal life.” That is harsh. But why did their actions show this? What attitudes or thoughts show that someone considers themselves unworthy of eternal life? Are we ever guilty of that?

Let’s begin where Paul begins. Why did he say that his Jewish opponents in Pisidan Antioch considered themselves “unworthy of eternal life”? Because they heard the Word of God, the gospel of the good news of God’s plan of salvation, and they reject[ed] it. This rejection of God’s Word is a rejection of God’s work. In this case, they are doing so because they think they are above it—smarter than it, better than it, or at least know better than the message being proclaimed. But such hubris and belittling of God’s promises and works results in disaster. Rejection of the Word of God is the rejection of eternal life.

We may not see this often as a real likely danger for us (and I hope that we don’t), but we do well to be mindful of this attitude. Does it not happen occasionally that we hear a part of God’s Word and say, “Ehhh… I’m not sure about that. I don’t know if I agree or think about it that way.”?

But this may show up in our lives differently. Maybe it’s not an out-and-out refusal to believe God’s Word, but not giving it a place of priority. We get busy with things or problems crowd out God’s Word in our hearts, minds, and daily lives. And so as we slowly, almost subconsciously, separate ourselves from the promises of God, we are no different than those who rejected Paul’s preaching. By not prioritizing it, we essentially admit that we don’t consider ourselves worthy of this eternal life given by God’s grace.

But perhaps the word “worthy” is a sticking point for you. I know it is for me! Because am I worthy of eternal life? Have I lived my life in such a way that God would look at me and say, “Tim, you deserve to be in heaven! Come on up here with me!”? No! I’ve been as far from worthy as can be! I’ve been sinful and rebelled against God. To be worthy of eternal life on my own would mean to be perfect, a life of literally flawless obedience to God’s commands. I know that’s not me, and I’m sure that’s not you. So, in that way, are we worthy of eternal life? No!

But, if I stick to that thinking, I’m ignoring the work that God has done for the whole world, me included. In my misguided “piety” and “humility,” I could, perhaps, exclude myself from eternal life. If I consider my sins not only real and constant (which they are), but actually so bad that they’re unforgivable, that will lead to real problems. If I think that I’m so unworthy that not even God can forgive me, I don’t consider myself worthy or even eligible for eternal life. I can convince myself that somehow, I’m so bad, that I am unique among all the history of humanity, of every person from every nation, and that when Jesus died for the sins of the world, I managed to exclude myself.

This is the lie that Judas believed. Judas is not in hell because he betrayed Jesus on Maundy Thursday night, nor is he in hell because he committed suicide; those were both sins that Jesus died for. He’s in hell because he thought himself excluded from forgiveness, that what he did was so bad that there was no way he could be forgiven. Thus, this deep grief and hopelessness led him to reject the promises Jesus had so clearly taught, and it left him in the state of unbelief. He did not consider himself worthy of eternal life.

Indeed, we do well to take stock of our sins, to hear God’s law, and let it resonate in our hearts. These are healthy things that God wants for us and provides for us. As we mentioned on Christmas Eve and last Sunday, a Savior only has value if you recognize what you need to be saved from. But don’t sell Jesus short. His payment for sin was a global, universal, objective payment. It is done—finished! The Wise Men didn’t travel all those miles to worship an unsubstantiated hope that maybe, possibly, this child would grow into one who could save them. No, by faith, they knew this was the promised Savior who would rescue all people from their sins.

So are you worthy of eternal life by your own actions? No! But are you worthy of eternal life by Jesus’ actions? Absoultely, yes! Jesus has washed and made you clean, purifying you of all sin. He’s given you his perfection so that you are exactly what God expects—demands—that you be. When the Father looks at you, he only sees his Son’s faithfulness. When he looks at me, he does, in fact, say, “Tim, you deserve to be in heaven! Come on up here with me!” because Jesus made me deserving, made me worthy.

That message is not something new for most of us. Many of us have known this for years, decades, perhaps even our whole lives. But the problem of considering ourselves unworthy of eternal life can even creep into that fortress of God’s grace. Because the longer we know this, the more difficult it can be to appreciate it. We can take it for granted. We know all that stuff. We’ve been going to church for how long? We’ve read the promises of God how often? We’ve even, perhaps, read the entirety of God’s Word—even multiple times! Indeed, I do deserve this, Lord; I am worthy of eternal life. Look at what the faithfulness of my life displays!

A life focused on Jesus can, over time, through familiarity and apathy, devolve into a life of self-righteous arrogance. I can start putting more stock in my church attendance than my Savior. I can start pointing to my works, such as my knowledge of the teachings of God’s Word, rather than trusting in the Savior it points to. Even in my ultra-familiarity with God’s Word and perhaps even its constant presence in my life, I can begin to consider myself unworthy of eternal life when faith warps into mere tradition and head-knowledge.

So, do you consider yourself worthy of eternal life? I hope you do because God certainly does. He never would have sent that gift lying in Bethlehem’s manger if he didn't. He never would have given us this King, worshiped and adored by the Wise Men. But he did, and we have him as our certain Savior from sin.

So, where do we want to be now and in the future? See yourself as the loved, blood-bought child of God that you are. No matter how you feel or what you think about things, God’s Word stands true: We were lost in our sins, and God rescued us through Jesus.

And this message doesn’t just apply locally; it applies globally. It’s not just for “good” people; it’s for everyone. It’s not just for members of our congregation or for people who currently share our same faith; it’s even for those who, today, are totally ignorant of and perhaps even antagonistic toward this message. Jesus is for all—even for you and me.

So, let’s not fall into the trap some of the Jewish people in Antioch did as they rejected the gospel from Paul. Let us not let distractions, guilt, or apathy lead us to separate ourselves from this promise and consider ourselves unworthy of eternal life.

Instead, see yourself as worthy of eternal life because God has made you worthy. See yourself as worthy of his love because he loves you. See yourself as worthy of his forgiveness because he died to forgive you. See yourself as worthy of the perfection of heaven because God, who knows you better than you know yourself, as given you this free gift, no strings attached.

Value and cherish your God-given worthiness. Continue to seek it out and look for opportunities to share it with those who might not yet know or understand it or who have been dragged away from it so that they, too, know they are worthy of eternal life, for Jesus’ sake. Amen.

"Let Us Tend the Tree of Faith" (Sermon on Luke 13:6-9) | December 29, 2024

Sermon Text: Luke 13:6-9
Date: December 29, 2024
Event: New Year’s Eve (Observed), Set 3

Luke 13:6-9 (EHV)

He told them this parable: “A man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard. He came looking for fruit on it, but he did not find any. 7So he said to the gardener, ‘Look, for three years now I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree, and I have found none. Cut it down. Why even let it use up the soil?’ 8But the gardener replied to him, ‘Sir, leave it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put fertilizer on it. 9If it produces fruit next year, fine. But if not, then cut it down.’ ”

Let Us Tend the Tree of Faith

I was listening to a year-in-review podcast last week, and one of the hosts of the show made a joke at one point along the lines of, “It’s good to know that once January 1 comes, once the clock ticks over to midnight and it’s 2025, all the world’s problems will disappear.” Truly, January 1, 2025 will not really be different than December 31, or December 29, or…

It’s one of the reasons I have no qualms about observing the New Year transition in worship today rather than two days from now. It’s not really that big of a deal. The opportunities for reflection and forward-thinking are not limited to one 24-hour period. It’s one of the reasons I really don’t like New Year’s Resolutions because, if you’ve identified something you want to do or a change you want to make, why not start it on December 29th or November 17th or whatever rather than waiting for this arbitrary point in the future.

That being said, there is a benefit to the themes of taking-stock and planning-ahead that these late days in the years provide. And while things around us may not change all that much as we turn the calendar, we can know for certainty that the God who provides for us, forgives us, and protects us does not change at all. So we move forward into a new year under the same perfect providence that he has provided up to this day. It’s a perfect providence not because our life right now is idyllic but because he is working everything for what he knows is our eternal good.

Since we know the promises and works of God and how important this all is, we do well to prioritize it no matter where in the year we fall. This morning, using Jesus’ parable of the fig tree as a guide, we’ll spend some time considering how we might better tend the tree of our faith today, on January 1, and throughout our lives.

The parable Jesus tells is very simple. There’s a tree in a vineyard that is not producing anything. The owner of the vineyard wants to get rid of it so that soil can be used for something else, while the caretaker asks for some more time to care for the tree and see if starts to produce fruit. The owner agrees—for a time.

The parable's application is pretty straightforward and very much lines up with John the Baptist’s preaching that we heard in the Advent season just a couple of weeks ago. In order for a fruit tree to be worth anything, it needs to produce fruit. Likewise, a person can and should produce fruit of thanksgiving to God—the fruit of repentance. Failure or refusal to produce such fruit in our lives points to a real problem with our faith.

And so it’s not surprising that the parable's context is Jesus preaching a message that sounds very much like the message that John the Baptist proclaimed. In the verses just prior to our parable, Jesus twice repeats the stern warning, “But unless you repent, you will all perish too” (Luke 13:3, 5). “Perish” is a much stronger word than “die.” When God uses this word, it points not to physical death but eternal death in hell.

So, a lack of repentance leads to hell. A lack of fruit causes the tree to be cut down and discarded. What are we to make of this? And how does that sync with biblical truths that we are saved by grace through faith alone?

It’s perhaps a bit of a trite saying, but I think it can be instructive: it is true that we are saved through faith alone, but that faith is never alone. Faith always has works, fruits of repentance, attached to it. The faith that trusts Jesus as Savior naturally produces good works in thanksgiving to God. A problem with thankful good works may point to a problem with faith.

But, in reality, we all have a problem with faith. None of us is entirely governed by the faith given to us by God. We all still have a sinful nature that is vehemently opposed to that faith, that fights it tooth and nail. If, in thanksgiving to God, faith wants us to go left, then the sinful nature wants us to go right; if faith wants us to go down, then the sinful nature wants us to go up. The sinful nature only wants the opposite of what God wants, often to a non-sensical and self-destructive degree.

So, part of us wants to bear excellent fruit in thanksgiving to the God who loves us and has forgiven us, while another part of us wants there to be no fruit at all. This is why you don’t always do the good things you want to do, why sin, at times, is a very tempting path—and perhaps even seems like the correct path! Even after God has created faith in our hearts, on our own, we are not healthy fig trees.

So what is the solution? Well, if we’re looking for the solution of “make there be no sin anymore in my life,” then we are going to be really disappointed. This side of eternity, no matter how genuine our faith is and how much we might want that to be the case, we won’t be able to make that happen. No, the real solution is labor, work with this tree of faith. Just as the caretaker pleaded with the owner, “Sir, leave it alone this year also, until I dig around it and put fertilizer on it,” we, too, have work to do.

What does “digging around and fertilizing” faith look like? How do we do that work? Well, just like a tree, it matters what you use. If you dig around a tree to aerate the soil a bit, you don’t want to do so in a way that damages the roots; that would be the complete opposite of what you’re trying to do! If you’re trying to fertilize the tree, you would want to use something that would actually make the soil better and thus the tree stronger. Using something that would poison or weaken the tree is the opposite of your goal.

So, too, if we’re going to tend to our tree of faith, we want to use the right tools and products and in the right way because doing this work in the wrong way could damage faith rather than strengthening it. So, what are the right tools and methods for this work?

First and foremost, tending to your faith is not an exploration of your thoughts and feelings. While our thoughts and emotions are valid and important, they’re not always accurate. For instance, on a really rough day, I may feel like God no longer cares about me. But is that true? No! No matter how deeply, sincerely, and honestly I feel that, my emotions do not dictate reality. My thinking may try to justify my actions, but that doesn’t mean it’s right.

The fruitless tree can’t just will itself into producing fruit; it needs work from the gardener. So, too, we cannot just will ourselves into stronger, healthier faith. We need God to do his work on us.

And while God technically could do that in an infinite number of ways, he has restricted himself to some very specific tools. God tends to your faith and mine through his Word. That Word may be read in our homes, listened to as it’s read or preached, remembered and meditated on, or in the case of the sacraments, connected to earthly elements like water in baptism and bread and wine in the Lord’s Supper.

While God does this work,  you and I have a part to play. We can’t make our faith stronger on our own, but we can put ourselves in a position to be surrounded by his Word, to be in a place where God will do the work he’s promised. So, tending to the tree of our faith means immersing ourselves in his Word.

How will that go? Well, it’s not going to be all pleasant. Remember, we still have that sinful nature in us, and part of combating this part of us is cutting it down to size. But that’s not comfortable because that means addressing the sinful nature’s wrongdoing, which is the same as addressing our own failures and faults. God’s Word is clear what the expectations are for us—perfection—and how far we are from that. That sin is why Jesus warned the people about perishing without repentance. Sin that is cherished, loved, and embraced is poison to faith.

But, of course, the message of God’s Word doesn’t end there. If it did, that would be utterly hopeless. The gardener has to address the problems with the fig tree, but with the goal that things will be better. It is the same with God’s Word.

It’s not until we see our need as made clear through the mirror of God’s law that we can appreciate the gospel. As we noted on Christmas Eve, the message of a Savior being born for you is only significant if you have something that you need to be saved from. Well, God’s law makes clear how hopeless our sinful situation is and how much we need rescue.

So God assures us time and time again, sometimes in direct conflict with our internal dialogue and emotions, that he loves us. While, yes, we have sinned, and yes, we do deserve eternal punishment in hell for those sins, Jesus took our place. Jesus paid the price we owed. Jesus has saved us through his perfect life that he applies to us and his death on the cross that removed every single one of our sins. Now, the soil can breathe and have nutrients rush to the roots.

And what is the result? What could the result be but joyous thanksgiving to God? When we can see and appreicate how great the love of God for us is, how could we possibly respond in joy to him? To be clear, any response, any good works we do are not done to earn God’s love or forgiveness; those have been given to us as a free gift. No, the fruit we produce is the result of thanksgiving to the God who loves us.

This will be a year-long, life-long struggle. The sinful nature will want to squash that fruit and the faith God has given will want to produce it, and you will be caught in the middle. Thus, we need that caretaking that comes only through God’s Word; we need to surround ourselves with the Word and benefit from the caretaking that he, alone, provides.

What will that look like practically? In part, it will look like what we’re doing right now: gathering around God’s Word for the edification that it brings and finding encouragement in the support of our fellow Christians. It will mean digging into God’s truths in the year ahead on a personal level, watering that tree of faith with his promises and assurances.

There are many tools that can help in this end. While you can certainly read your Bible cover-to-cover, or open up to a random page and try to soak in the truths of law and gospel presented there, a more structured, organized approach might be better and longer lasting. The Meditations booklets do a nice job of presenting a daily, bite-sized dose of God’s Word to digest at any point during the day. They also have the benefit of coordinating with the readings that we just worked through in worship the Sunday before.

In addition, I have some tools laid out on the back table that I would encourage you to consider using in the days ahead. Some of these will be new, some familiar, but all have the same goal: get myself into God’s truths to combat that sinful nature and allow the joy of God’s freedom to produce thankful fruit in my life. There are a few different Bible reading plans, be they the whole Bible, the New Testament, or the Gospels. There’s a book that harmonizes all four Gospels into one cohesive narrative. And if none of those are where your interests lie, talk to me and I can get you other recommendations for digging around and fertilizing that tree of faith.

In the end, it’s not the fruit that is the ultimate concern, but the fruit is a sign of the tree's health. The good works in our life are not the goal, but they are a useful metric to gauge the health of our faith. And that faith that clings to Jesus as the only and complete Savior from sin is what is most vital. A healthy tree will produce good fruit; a healthy faith will produce thankful fruit, and we want our faith to be healthy as we look forward to the rescue from this life that God will provide.

So today, tomorrow, and into the new year, prioritize being immersed in the Word and his comforts. Seek out opportunities to express your faith in your life through those thankful fruits. You are the dearly loved child of God. Enjoy that now and always! Happy New Year! Amen.

"I Bring You Good News of Great Joy" (Sermon on Luke 2:1-20) | December 24, 2024

Sermon Text: Luke 2:1-20
Date: December 24, 2024
Event: Christmas Eve, Year C

Luke 2:1-20 (EHV)

In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be registered. 2This was the first census taken while Quirinius was governing Syria. 3And everyone went to register, each to his own town. 4And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the town of Nazareth, into Judea, to the town of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was from the house and family line of David. 5He went to be registered with Mary, his wife, who was pledged to him in marriage and was expecting a child.

6And so it was that while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. 7And she gave birth to her firstborn son, wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

8There were in the same country shepherds staying out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock at night. 9An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified! 10But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. For behold, I bring you good news of great joy, which will be for all people: 11Today in the town of David, a Savior was born for you. He is Christ the Lord. 12And this will be a sign for you: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger.” 13Suddenly, there was with the angel a multitude from the heavenly army, praising God and saying, 14“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward mankind.”

15When the angels went away from them into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Now let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has made known to us.” 16So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. 17When they had seen him, they told others the message they had been told about this child. 18And all who heard it were amazed by what the shepherds said to them. 19But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. 20And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

“I Bring You Good News of Great Joy!”

“Can we talk?” What does that question do to you? I’ll tell you what it does for me: my heart leaps into my throat and other questions race through my mind, “What’s wrong? What did I do? What happened? Where and how big is the hurt, and for who?” Now, those questions might just point to my own wrestling with anxiety because could it not just as easily be good news as bad? Couldn’t someone want to spend a few minutes sharing something positive rather than negative, encouragement rather than criticism?

But maybe that is a familiar feeling for you, too. Knowing that there is news, something that warrants a conversation, but not knowing if it’s something you’d classify as good or bad can leave you feeling very uneasy.

The events around Jesus’ birth have several moments when someone is startled by a message (or even the messenger). We were reminded on Sunday of two occasions when the angel Gabriel appeared to Zechariah, John the Baptist’s father, to tell him that he and his wife would have a son in their old age. Likewise, Gabriel appeared to Mary to let her know she would be the mother of the Savior. There, Luke records Mary’s internal response for us: The angel went to her and said, “Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women.” But she was greatly troubled by the statement and was wondering what kind of greeting this could be (Luke 1:28-29). Is this good news or bad news? How do you respond when an angel says, “Can we talk?”

The beginning of our Gospel for this evening tells us the basics of Jesus’ birth. For as popular and romanticized as this account is, even outside of the church in popular culture, in the Bible, it’s really, really short. Just eight verses, the first three of which are really just establishing when in history this took place. Many of the details we have filled in from our imagination or works of art surrounding these events just aren’t there. Did you notice Mary did not have a donkey to ride to Bethlehem? It’s not unreasonable to think that she might have ridden one—being nearly ready to give birth and having to make a trek of more than 80 miles on foot would probably call for some assistance—but it’s not in the biblical account.

In part, that comes because you have to round it out a bit. Just five verses is not a lot of details. However, when it comes to the construction of the Gospel narrative, it makes some sense because the specifics around Jesus’ birth are just not that important. I mean, they’re not unimportant. They show the lowliness and humility that would define Jesus’ entire earthly life and ministry. They show the quiet faith of both Mary and Joseph, trusting that everything would be ok despite a really stressful situation because God had promised that it would be ok. They make clear that distinguishing mark that the Messiah would be born in the Judean town of Bethlehem, where King David was born. But when it comes to the work Jesus had to do, the details of his birth are, in some ways, a footnote.

But when it comes to verse 8, then things get interesting, because there are some sleepy shepherds out in the middle of fields near Bethlehem keeping watch over undoubtedly sleepy sheep. And then someone says, “Can we talk?” There were in the same country shepherds staying out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified! In the middle of the night, an angel from God appears to these half-asleep animal caretakers. Not only that, but even the glory of the Lord, the pillar of cloud and fire that led the Israelites through the wilderness almost 1500 years before, not only appears near them but actually surrounds them. I think you can take Mary’s troubledness and curiosity at what kind of greeting Gabriel had for her and dial it up 1000x for the shepherds. “What is going on? What is going to happen to us? What is this message being announced?”

The angel quickly puts their fears—their terror!—to rest, “Do not be afraid. For behold, I bring you good news of great joy.” Whew! Not only is this not bad news, but this is good news that produces great joy! And what is the good news the angel has to share with the shepherds? “I bring you good news of great joy, which will be for all people: Today in the town of David, a Savior was born for you. He is Christ the Lord.” Again, terse and to the point, but one that points ahead—a Savior (the Savior) was born; he’s arrived! The Christ—the Messiah—is here!

And yes, more details are given, but again, that is not the point. The lowly state of the Messiah—a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger—is given only as a means of identification, “a sign to you.” That a child is sleeping in a feeding trough is not the message, not the good news of great joy. But what he will be and what he will do is the focus of the angel’s brief message.

According to the angel, this good news of great joy applies to all people. The main joy is that a Savior was born for you. And this is the part of tonight that might not feel very “Christmas-y,” because the good news the angel shares and that we celebrate presupposes some really bad, even hopeless, news.

Perhaps we think of the joy of a severe disease going away, something that threatened life or at least the way of life. What rejoicing there is in that good news! The bad thing is gone! But in order for there to be joy in that good news, the bad news had to be there first. The concerns over future health and living arrangements. Sleepless nights not knowing what would come or how this would turn out. Would the medicine be effective? Were the doctors right? What was tomorrow going to look like? Feel like?

The same is true for Christmas. Good news of great joy to be sure! But that good news stands against the backdrop of the hopeless news we lived with. A Savior was born! Praise the Lord! But for a savior to be worth something, we needed something to be saved from.

The reality is that, on our own, we do need to be saved. We need to be rescued because we’ve dug ourselves such a deep, dark pit with our sin and rebellion against God that we can never get out. The whole reason that Jesus was born, the reason that God took on our human nature in this miraculous birth of a virgin, was so that he could rescue us. And his work would be a true rescue. To go back to the picture of the pit, his mission wasn’t to put a ladder down so we could climb out ourselves. No, his rescue is so complete that it meant climbing down that pit himself, putting us on his shoulders, and carrying us out. The Messiah’s mission was a complete rescue with no help or contribution on our part whatsoever.

So this child in Bethlehem’s manger would live a flawless life in our place during the 30-some years of his life, and then he would take up our sins on himself when he died on the cross. He was and is our substitute, putting himself in the place of the punishment of hell that we deserved. Death and hell are not really themes that we might want to zero in on a serene Christmas Eve, but this part of Jesus’ work is the only reason that the message of the angel to the shepherds could be good news of great joy.

This evening, we rejoice, we celebrate, not just over the birth of a child in wild, surprising, and miraculous circumstances. We rejoice and celebrate because the one who would rescue us from eternal punishment in hell is here. The one who would give our life for ours and then rise from the dead, triumphantly proclaiming his obliteration of sin, death, and hell—that long-promised Savior—has arrived!

Do you want to see him? On this silent night, follow the angel’s directions: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger. … He is Christ the Lord. My sisters and brothers, your Savior is here! Thanks be to God! Amen.

"My Soul Proclaims the Greatness of the Lord" (Sermon on Luke 1:39-55) | December 22, 2024

Sermon Text: Luke 1:39-55
Date: December 22, 2024
Event: The Fourth Sunday in Advent, Year C

Luke 1:39-55 (EHV)

In those days Mary got up and hurried to the hill country, to a town of Judah. 40She entered the home of Zechariah and greeted Elizabeth. 41Just as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42She called out with a loud voice and said, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! 43But why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44In fact, just now, as soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy! 45Blessed is she who believed, because the promises spoken to her from the Lord will be fulfilled!”

46Then Mary said,

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord,
47and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior,
48because he has looked with favor on the humble state of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed,
49because the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name.
50His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation.
51He has shown strength with his arm.
He has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52He has brought down rulers from their thrones.
He has lifted up the lowly.
53He has filled the hungry with good things, but the rich he has sent away empty.
54He has come to the aid of his servant Israel, remembering his mercy,
55as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and his offspring forever.

My Soul Proclaims the Greatness of the Lord

Well, we’ve reached it. The Fourth Sunday in Advent, the last Sunday before Christmas, finally has a Christmas feel to it. It’s still Advent; we’re still firmly in the preparation phase, but with readings focused not on the end, not on John the Baptist’s ministry, but firmly on prophecy of the Savior’s birth and reaction to the upcoming arrival of the Savior. We’re almost there; the preparations are nearly complete.

Our Gospel for this morning takes us to the home of Elizabeth and Zechariah, a childless couple blessed with a son in their old age. Their son was John the Baptist, whose adult ministry we’ve focused on for the last two Sundays. But for today, we take a step back in time, still three months or so from John’s birth. The angel Gabriel had announced this unexpected pregnancy to Zechariah, Elizabeth’s husband. Because he doubted God’s promises, Zechariah could not speak throughout Elizabeth’s pregnancy and wouldn’t have that ability restored until it came time to name the child.

During these exciting and undoubtedly chaotic times in their home near Jerusalem, Zechariah and Elizabeth have a visitor—one of their relatives from the north, from Galilee. Mary arrives not long after her own angelic encounter, where Gabriel also appeared to her to give her news about another miracle birth. Of course, this birth would be even more jaw-dropping than Elizabeth and Zechariah naturally having a son in their old age. Mary, a virgin, was told that she would bear a son. But not even just a miracle child, but the miracle child—the long-promised Savior. Gabriel described how it would happen in the verses just before our Gospel: Listen, you will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and his kingdom will never end. … The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God. Listen, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age even though she was called barren, and this is her sixth month. For nothing will be impossible for God (Luke 1:31-33, 35-37).

Mary was undoubtedly and understandably overwhelmed with this news, and given that the angel had told her that her relative, Elizabeth, was in at least a related situation, it made sense that Mary would make the journey south to visit her and Zechariah. It’s clear from the moment Mary first speaks that God is doing something incredible here. As soon as Elizabeth heard Mary’s greeting, the yet-to-be-born John the Baptist leaped in his mother’s womb and Elizabeth herself was filled with the Holy Spirit. As soon as Mary entered their home, Elizabeth knew what was happening: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! But why am I so favored that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”

Both of these women were basking in God’s graciousness to them. Not only did he love them and promise to remove their sins and bring them to eternal life with him, but he actually blessed them by allowing them to play incredibly important roles in his plan of salvation. Elizabeth was the mother and caretaker of the promised messenger to prepare the way before the Messiah; Mary was the mother and caretaker of the Messiah, God-come-in-the-flesh, true God and true Man, for our salvation.

Mary responds with what we have traditionally referred to as Mary’s Song or the Magnificat. These words show that the enormity of this moment and these events was not lost on her. Let’s take a few moments to walk through her Spirit-inspired words, and let them find application not only for her and the people of her day, but for us as well.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, and my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior, because he has looked with favor on the humble state of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed, because the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. Her first sentence gives us the whole point of what she’s doing and feeling in the moment: her very spirit within her can’t help but broadcast the greatness of the Lord. And what is she looking to share? That God, her Savior, had looked with favor on her.

Now, we could certainly zero in on the specific blessing of Mary being the mother of the Messiah. But there’s more here than just that. In calling God her Savior, she’s seeing not only the great privilege and honor that God has placed on her, but her very need of it. She was going to be the mother of the world's Savior, yes, but more to the point, she would be the mother of her own Savior. The child she would bring into the world would pay for her sins when he was taken out of the world. His death would save her as it would save all people.

And we don’t want to miss this critical point about our final preparations here today or our celebrations later this week. We’re not just observing a tradition. We won’t just be singing familiar songs or perhaps enjoying special food. We won’t just give and receive gifts with bows, tissue paper, and shiny wrapping. No, this preparation, this celebration, is for a purpose infinitely beyond all of that.

Because the true gift that we have received, the true reason for celebration, is that here is God’s mercy and God’s promise come in the flesh. Here is what God had meant when he first promised that Satan-stomping champion in the Garden of Eden. Here is God putting things into motion what his people had been waiting for for millennia.

And the effects of all of this are crucial for us today. Because salvation and forgiveness were not just for Adam and Eve or Elizabeth and Mary, but for you and me as well. This forgiveness of God—long promised and taking so long to fulfill—is still our confidence of better things to come, even at this late date in history. Those better things are not necessarily here in this life (which is in many ways a deceitful charade, as Mary will explain in a moment), but we are looking ahead to better things in eternity. Jesus took your sin and mine on himself so that even though you and I do not participate in the actual execution of God’s plan to save the world, we can join Mary and say, “The Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name,” because he has rescued us from hell and will bring us to himself in heaven, forever.

Mary continues: He has shown strength with his arm. He has scattered those who were proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down rulers from their thrones. He has lifted up the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, but the rich he has sent away empty. In a world where political and socio-economic standing and power seem to be the only things that matter, the only ways to really get things done, Mary reminds us of the truth hidden behind that façade. Is the ruler of a nation in charge of things? Is the one who holds all the wealth in charge of things? Is the one who promotes themselves and exalts their own importance in charge of things? NO! God is the one with the strong arm that works his will. God is the one that accomplishes what he knows needs to be done. God is not limited by any earthly political power or wealthy influence. He cuts through it all.

In fact, God is so much in charge that he uses those who think they are in charge. The Romans thought that they were in control at the time of Jesus’ birth. The emperor, Ceasar Agustus, declared a census. The rules dictated that families had to go to the origin point of their family lines. This meant Mary and Joseph would need to make that trek down south to Bethlehem Ephrathah, so small among the clans of Judah, but the promised birthplace of the Messiah. God saw to it that the Savior in the line of King David would be born in David’s birthplace and used that as a sign to confirm, in part, who Jesus was.

As we prepare not just for Christmas and not just for the end of time but for anything this next week or the new year might bring, we do well to keep Mary’s reminder in mind. The Lord is in charge of all. That little baby still forming in his mother’s womb whom we’ll see in Bethlehem’s manger? He’s King of kings and Lord of lords. He is, right now, ruling all things for your eternal good, and no one can wrench control away from God. No one in a national or community scene nor even someone in a more local family scene—can oust God as the one who watches you, protects you, forgives you, and will bring you home to himself.

And that’s where Mary leads us: His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. … He has come to the aid of his servant Israel, remembering his mercy, as he spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and his offspring forever. That phrase, “remembering his mercy,” looms so large. To be clear, this is not God going through the events that I’m so familiar with: sitting somewhere, perhaps working, perhaps relaxing, perhaps sleeping, when all of a sudden, the memory of that thing you forgot to do comes crashing into your mind and, in a panic, you race to try to get it done before it’s too late. God doesn’t forget; nothing slips his mind. But when God “remembers,” he is keeping his promise; he’s making clear that he didn’t forget.

From Adam and Eve to Noah to Abraham and all the children of Israel, God had promised our ancestors in the faith to save all humanity in the Savior’s work. Here, he keeps the promise. Here in the mission of Gabriel to speak to Zecahariah and then Mary, here in the working of humble faith in Mary’s heart that trusts these promises will be fulfilled, here is our hope for eternity.

Let us all follow Mary’s example, and let us all proclaim the greatness of the Lord. Maybe we won’t burst into poetry or song in the home of a loved one, but those fruits of repentance we spent time with last week are all ways to proclaim God’s greatness. Let us share the good news of this upcoming birth. Invite a friend to worship this week, share the hope you have for eternity, and let your joy in God’s eternal rescue from sin motivate every moment.

My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord, now and forever! Amen.