"I Was Blind, but now I See" (Sermon on John 9:1-7, 13-17, 34-39) | March 19, 2023

Sermon Text: John 9:1-7, 13-17, 34-39
Date: March 19, 2023
Event: The Fourth Sunday in Lent, Year A 

John 9:1–7, 13-17, 34-39 (EHV)

As Jesus was passing by, he saw a man blind from birth. 2His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

3Jesus answered, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that God’s works might be revealed in connection with him. 4I must do the works of him who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work. 5As long as I am in the world, I am the Light of the World.”

6After saying this, Jesus spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and spread the mud on the man’s eyes. 7“Go,” Jesus told him, “wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means “Sent”). So he went and washed, and came back seeing.

They brought this man who had been blind to the Pharisees. 14Now it was a Sabbath day when Jesus made the mud and opened his eyes. 15So the Pharisees also asked him how he received his sight.

“He put mud on my eyes,” the man told them. “I washed, and now I see.”

16Then some of the Pharisees said, “This man is not from God because he does not keep the Sabbath.” Others were saying, “How can a sinful man work such miraculous signs?”

There was division among them, 17so they said to the blind man again, “What do you say about him, because he opened your eyes?”

The man replied, “He is a prophet.”

They answered him, “You were entirely born in sinfulness! Yet you presume to teach us?” And they threw him out.

35Jesus heard that they had thrown him out. When he found him, he asked, “Do you believe in the Son of God?”

36“Who is he, sir,” the man replied, “that I may believe in him?”

37Jesus answered, “You have seen him, and he is the very one who is speaking with you.”

38Then he said, “Lord, I believe!” and he knelt down and worshipped him.

39Jesus said, “For judgment I came into this world, in order that those who do not see will see, and those who do see will become blind.”

I Was Blind, but Now I See

Have you seen one of these viral videos on the internet? The shot is usually of a very young child, a baby, sitting with his or her parents in the doctor’s office. Someone comes over with the child’s first-ever pair of glasses to correct eyesight that has been terrible for the child from birth. Then, the moment happens. They put the glasses on the child, and he or she can see Mom and Dad clearly for the first time. The reactions range from a bit scared to overjoyed on the child’s face. It’s difficult to watch this without a bit of a tear developing in your own eyes.

Something like that can make you appreciate your vision—something that’s easy to take for granted. Well, maybe vision is actually the easier thing to realize how valuable it is on a regular basis. If you wear contacts or glasses, you regularly experience the blurry haze of not having corrective lenses. Without my glasses on, I’m not sure I could confidently identify anyone here at church from the pulpit, even the members of my own immediate family. But with them? I can see you all!

The focus of our lessons from God’s Word this morning, to one degree or another, deal with vision. But the blind/seeing dichotomy is not only literal but also a figurative way to describe our spiritual reality. Jesus, in healing the blind man in our Gospel, not only gives him his physical sight, but also his spiritual sight, as he reveals himself as the Savior of the world and gives the man the faith to trust him as the one who takes away our sins—the promised Son of God.

Jesus and his disciples are walking around Jerusalem and come upon a man that was born blind. The disciples ask a fascinating and revealing question: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” We’ll come back to that question in a little bit. But Jesus makes clear that no specific sin caused this problem for him, but that it was so God’s true power could be shown through him--that God’s works might be revealed in connection with him. And so it was. Jesus spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and spread the mud on the man’s eyes. “Go,” Jesus told him, “wash in the pool of Siloam” (which means “Sent”). So he went and washed, and came back seeing.

There are a couple of interesting things to note about Jesus’ miracle. First, he used means—in this case the mud he made with the dirt and his spit and the waters of the pool of Siloam—to accomplish this work. We know that Jesus had the power to heal the man with a touch, or a word, or even just a will that it should happen. But here he uses these means, these tools, to bring about the healing. This made the man’s healing very physical—he could feel things happening. It also meant that this man was healed only hearing Jesus, but never seeing him.

This man has never seen clearly in his entire life and now, as an adult, he has perfect vision. The people brought the man to the Pharisees, likely because they were certain that the religious leaders would want to see the great things that God had done for this man. But the reaction that they received from these leaders was overtly negative. Instead of rejoicing in God’s miracle for this man, they complained that Jesus was breaking the man-made additions to God’s laws about rest on the Sabbath day. They didn’t see this miracle as evidence of Jesus’ divine nature. Rather, they saw this act as a clear testimony of the sin they supposed Jesus had. They couldn’t see what was happening right in front of them.

Unbelief is often described as blindness in the Scriptures. Paul said in our Second Reading, “You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord” (Ephesians 5:8). That makes sense, doesn’t it? Unbelief is not understanding God and not seeing things as they really are. Unbelief either fears the retribution and punishment of God, supposing there is no escape from it, or it is confident in its own ability to be right before God on its own. Both are wrong; both stem from blindness.

The Pharisees saw this man’s blindness as a reason to look down on him. They shared the same sentiment that the disciples did when they asked whether the man’s blindness was the result of his or his parents’ sin. The Pharisees were blind to the fact that they, too, were entirely born in sinfulness.

The reality is that our sinfulness blinds us to just how blind we truly are, but truly we need Jesus’ healing. And this healing doesn’t come about with mud and washing but with blood and hell. Jesus used means to heal our sin—he gave his life for us. And by his grace, the Holy Spirit has worked faith in our hearts to trust him as our Savior. As you and I look at our own lives, we must join the chorus with the hymn writer, “I was blind, but now I see.”

Jesus went and searched out the man after his run-in with the Pharisees. When [Jesus] found him, he asked, “Do you believe in the Son of God?” “Who is he, sir,” the man replied, “that I may believe in him?” Remember, the healed man had never actually seen Jesus, and we would certainly understand if in the swirl of everything going on, perhaps he didn’t quite yet recognize his voice after the very brief exchange they had earlier. Can you, in your mind’s eye, see the smile that comes across Jesus’ lips as he prepares to answer the man’s question? “You have seen him, and he is the very one who is speaking with you.”

The miracle and this word were all this man needed to know that Jesus was his Savior and God. “Lord, I believe!” and he knelt down and worshipped him. The man was given physical sight, yes, but the greater miracle was the faith worked in his heart—the spiritual sight he received that day. The religious leaders thought they could see but they were utterly blind to the promises and work of God. But this man saw Jesus as he was, and at this Jesus rejoiced.

Why are those videos of a young child receiving corrective lenses for the first time so powerful? Because we can almost universally appreciate what it means to be able to see clearly—and especially the intimacy that comes from being able to see those you love. How much more powerful is it to see with the vision of faith? You can see God as he is—not an angry tyrant, but your loving God who saves you. You can see clearly what lies ahead—not an eternity of hell but the unending joys of the perfection of heaven. You can see the power and purpose of simple means—words spoken and read, water, bread, and wine connected to that word—which God uses to create and strengthen faith.

Those are the means he sends us out with as well. Jesus had observed, “I must do the works of him who sent me while it is day. Night is coming when no one can work.” We are living in the daylight of this world. If there is breath in our lungs, we have time to work. Perhaps our work is in sharing the good news of sins forgiven in Jesus. Perhaps our work is to invite someone to come to church so that they too may see the real love of God. Perhaps our work is to continue to petition God’s throne of grace with our prayers that his kingdom come—that faith comes to us and others. Perhaps our work is all of the above. Regardless, we have God’s Word and the sacraments that, like the mud and washing in the pool, bring sight to people born blind. Not physical blindness, but spiritual. God’s power works in these means to bring people from the blindness and condemnation of unbelief to the vision and certain hope of trust in Jesus as Savior.

You were blind, but now you see. Rejoice in the spiritual vision that God gives and perseveres in you through his Word. Take that Word into the world to share it because it is the means through which God will bring true, spiritual vision to others. May we all clearly see Jesus as Savior. May we all clearly see heaven standing open for us. May we all clearly see the love God has for us now and forever! Amen.

"Christ Died for Us" (Sermon on Romans 5:1-8) | March 12, 2023

Sermon Text: Romans 5:1-8
Date: March 12, 2023
Event: The Third Sunday in Lent, Year A

Romans 5:1-8 (EHV)

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. 2Through him we also have obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand. And we rejoice confidently on the basis of our hope for the glory of God.

3Not only this, but we also rejoice confidently in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces patient endurance, 4and patient endurance produces tested character, and tested character produces hope. 5And hope will not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, who was given to us.

6For at the appointed time, while we were still helpless, Christ died for the ungodly. 7It 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. 8But God shows his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Christ Died for Us

“Are you sure?” Anyone ever ask you that question? Maybe you’ve said you’re going to do something that seems extreme to someone else. Perhaps it was a teacher trying gently to get you to see a miscalculation in a math problem or a skipped step on a homework assignment. Maybe it’s just your computer double-checking to see if you really want to close that program without saving hours of work. “Are you sure?”

It’s a question that can cause some panic or anxiety in you unless you have the utmost confidence in what you’re doing or planning. “Am I sure? Are there no other options? Is this truly the best option?” And in reality, it’s unlikely that you ever have the objectively best plan, right? There’s always going to be something you didn’t think of that would work better, or there would be other options that would be equal to your idea, but you just need to pick just one.

There are all sorts of options when it comes to spiritual and religious thought. Are you sure you have the right one? And what is on the line if you don’t? It’s not like ordering the pasta when you should have gotten the fish. You can always come back to the restaurant and try something else off the menu later. But when it comes to eternal security, the answers to true, spiritual questions, you’ve got one chance. So, are you sure?

In our Second Reading for this morning, Paul wants to bring us some certainty, but he wants that certainty to be placed in the right spot. We’re not just here to make each other feel better, we’re not trying to cope with some sunk-cost fallacies. We’re here to be led by God in his truth.

The Samaritan woman at the well that Jesus spoke to in our Gospel really serves as an interesting example for us. Here was a woman—sinful, as we all are, but also religiously minded. She thought she had what she needed. She followed the faith of her people (which was a hybrid religion mixing some of the Old Testament with other things). But Jesus pointed out that she had a thirst that was not being quenched; she needed something only he could provide. She could have certainty—but not in herself. Her certainty would come from him.

Paul addresses that thirst that we all have. Our sin, he says, made us helpless, which really flies in the face of popular thought about our spiritual reality. All people (including you and me) would like to believe that we are pretty good. Or we’re trying our best. Or we’re at least better than someone else, our neighbor, or that person who has been arrested with horrific charges held against him. But by calling us helpless, Paul is underscoring the “not ok-ness” of our relationship with God. Helpless isn’t getting close; helpless isn’t just needing a little boost. Helpless means that there’s nothing to be done to help us. The situation is so dire, the problems so completely out of control, that nothing that we or any other person could do would ever help. We are helpless, so thus our situation is hopeless.

Yet, you have the confidence of eternal life, right? You’re looking forward to heaven? Are you sure? Paul said it was helpless. Well, helpless until: At the appointed time, while we were still helpless, Christ died for the ungodly. One thing and one thing only could rescue us from this helpless situation: Jesus. And he did it in the most unexpected way possible. Paul continues: 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.

Who’s on your shortlist of people you would take a bullet for? Whom would you die for? It’s a trope in war stories and romance movies, but in reality, that list is probably pretty short, if it exists at all. Paul makes the point that if you were going to die for someone else, it would be someone whom you hold (and who holds you) in high esteem—a righteous person or a person who has been good to us. But here’s the rub: God shows his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Being a sinner means you are an enemy of God. Being a sinner means you haven’t endeared yourself to him; it means that you’re actively fighting against him. You have nothing in you by nature that would draw you to him or make him think happy things about you.

This is what makes Jesus’ death for mankind so baffling. You and I brought nothing to the table. He didn’t look at us as a fix-upper; he didn’t see potential in us and figured he’d put in the work to make us whole again. We weren’t some restoration project that had good “bones” but need a new coat of stain or paint. No, we were wholly corrupted to the core. There is nothing worth anything in us by nature. And even if we think there is, Jesus is quick to show us our corruption as he did for the woman at the well, “Go, call your husband…” (John 4:16). Uh, about that…

No, God shows that his love for us had nothing to do with us and everything to do with him. He died for us not because of us but because of him. His love is completely unilateral; it depends only on itself. You are loved because he loves you. Jesus died for sinners who hated him, because he loved them—he loved us. There’s a reason this passage serves as the heading of our congregation’s website and is emblazoned on the back of every one of my business cards: there is hardly a more succinct way to summarize the gospel: God shows his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

The beginning of our Second Reading tells us the results of that self-sacrificing love of God: Since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we also have obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand. And we rejoice confidently on the basis of our hope for the glory of God. Our rejoicing isn’t internal, it’s external. We don’t rejoice in ourselves; we rejoice in our Savior who loved us and died for us.

So, if you want confidence in eternity, don’t look in yourself with questions like “Do I believe enough? Am I good enough?” Looking for confidence in those places is like trying to quench your thirst with salt water. At the moment, it may seem like you’re doing the right thing but, in the end, you’re killing yourself.

No, if you want confidence in eternity, look at the Savior who gave his life for you. When trouble or hardship presses you on every side, there too we can rejoice because we know that these things are temporary, these things keep us looking forward to the final, eternal home of heaven, these things give us that godly patience and remind us of the certain hope we have not in the “now,” but in what is coming.

Are you sure? Are you sure you’ll be in heaven? Are you sure your sins are forgiven? Are you sure that there’s something better than this life waiting for you beyond what we struggle with today? We joyfully and confidently say, “Yes!” Why? Because Christ died for us. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Where Does My Help Come From?" (Sermon on Psalm 121) | March 5, 2023

Sermon Text: Psalm 121
Date: March 5, 2023
Event: The Second Sunday in Lent, Year A 

Psalm 121 (EHV)

A song for the ascents.
1I lift up my eyes to the mountains.
Where does my help come from?
2My help comes from the Lord,
the Maker of heaven and earth.
3He will not let your foot stumble.
He who watches over you will not slumber.
4Yes, he who watches over Israel will not slumber.
He will not sleep.
5The Lord watches over you.
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
6The sun will not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.
7The Lord will watch to keep you from all harm.
He will watch over your life.
8The Lord will watch over your going and your coming
from now to eternity.

Where Does My Help Come From?

You’re planning a road trip—how are you getting music to accompany you in the car? Assuming you want music for the long drive, what your mind jumps to probably dates you at least a little bit. Some might have thought of a box of cassette tapes or even making a mixtape that is customized to your driving tastes. Some might have thought to bring a bundle of CDs or a custom-burned CD. Some might have thought about plugging in an iPod or other digital music player. While still others might have jumped to a customized playlist on a music streaming service.

As you walk through recent history, music has been a part of the travel experience in cars. But that is not a recent phenomenon. Music while traveling is ancient, dating back to almost the beginning of time. And in the Bible, you can even find an example of this in the book of Psalms. Psalms 120-134 are all labeled with the heading “A song for the ascents.” These were the road trip playlist or burned CDs, as it were, for God’s Old Testament people. These were psalms that would be sung or spoken while they traveled—especially when they traveled up to Jerusalem for worship, usually for one of the bigger festivals that would make the time investment in making the trek on foot make sense.

So, this morning, we’re going to cue up one of the tracks from God’s road trip playlist here and consider what it would mean for the pilgrim to sing this psalm on their way up to the temple—and what it means for us to have these truths in our hearts as we travel through this life.

Psalm 121, our focus for this morning, is a well-known psalm. Verses from it probably adorn art in people’s homes, wallpaper on their phones, and verses of comfort in their hearts. And that’s with good reason because the words the unnamed psalmist pens by inspiration of the Holy Spirit are tremendously comforting.

We begin our journey with the psalm writer as he looks ahead to the path in front of him: I lift up my eyes to the mountains. Where does my help come from? If you’ve traveled through the mountains, you know how majestic and powerful they seem. Now, those in Israel don’t have the Rockies or the Himalayas to contend with, but you might well think about the coastal, rolling hill mountains that we have in our immediate area, with elevations in Israel at times reaching almost 3,000 feet. Now, with a modern vehicle, traversing those paths with their paved roads are not a huge problem. But what about if you were on foot and/or on the dirt and rock? That becomes a bit more treacherous.

But it was more than just elevations and unstable footings that someone traveling in Old Testament times would have had to contend with when they hit the high hills and low mountains. Because those hills hid other dangers—wild animals and bandits looking to rob those who wind their way through narrow passes. While the mountains could communicate the power of our Creator God, they also were dangerous, difficult places. So, for the psalm writer, lifting his eyes to the mountains is probably less about God’s majesty and more about the concerns for safety that going through such places would bring.

Which makes sense why he asks the question, “Where does my help come from?” He looks at the treacherous road ahead and thinks, “How am I going to get through that?” Does that sentiment feel relatable? Maybe not making a multi-mile journey through large hills on foot but seeing what’s ahead and not seeing a good way through it, not seeing a possible positive outcome, seeing only danger and hardship and maybe worse things that you’d rather not think about.

If the psalm writer didn’t see God’s majesty and power in the landscape, then he certainly sees it in God’s solution to his problems: My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. There’s no doubt in the psalm writer’s mind how he’ll get through this treacherous problem safely: it will be God’s doing. The one who made the entire universe is certainly able—and willing!—to keep him safe.

We often look for help in all the wrong places. We look to ourselves and the strength of our will to “gut it out” and fix something (or just ignore it for long enough and hope that it goes away). We try everything at our disposal to solve the problem and nothing seems to help. Often, we turn to God as a last resort.

But the psalm writer encourages us to take a different approach. See the problems, the heartache, the grief, the pain, the sickness, the guilt, whatever it is, and bring it to God. As he approached the mountains he didn’t crumble in fear; he didn’t see that all hope was lost. He went forward confident of God’s promises and protection.

Now, we should discuss for just a moment what that might look like in practice. Jesus taught us well to pray that God’s will be done. We can bring anything to God, big or small, but whatever request we make to him we always want to attach the thought and acknowledgment that God knows better than we do. Think of the man traveling to Jerusalem. What if he fell into the hands of robbers, was left for dead, and then did, in fact, die? Did God abandon him? Did God fail to do what he had promised? No—this was simply how God brought that believer to eternal life with him. The same goes as we pray for healing for a disease. Healing may be the answer, strength to endure pain and discomfort may be the answer, help and support from people you would not have expected may be the answer, or in severe cases, death may be the answer because God knows what is best for us. The promise that he will not let your foot stumble may not always feel true from our perspective, but from God’s perspective, it always is.

And the same holds true for the other promises the psalm writer holds on to. You may feel like God is asleep at the wheel when it comes to directing the affairs of your life—but he’s not. You may feel like God is letting the harmful blast of heat from the sun of problems and hardships cook you beyond recognition, but he’s not. You may feel that he’s abandoned you in the thick of problems—but he hasn’t.

That’s some shallow comfort in the heat of the moment, though. “Oh, God hasn’t left me? Great. But I still very much feel like he has.” And this is where we need to turn to God’s clear promises to us in his Word. He has not promised a life free from trouble. He has not promised a life without difficulty. He has not promised an existence without sorrow or pain. But he has promised that, in the end, we will be safe with him.

As Jesus taught Nicodemus at night, he reinforced that. He brought up the account of Moses lifting the bronze snake in the desert. You may remember that account from Numbers chapter 21 where God sent venomous snakes among the people because of their rampant sin and discontent against him. Then, when they called out for help, God directed Moses to make a snake out of bronze and lift it up. God promised that anyone who looked at that snake would live. And that’s exactly what happened.

This promise of protection and help goes well beyond this life. The psalm writer assures us: The Lord will watch over your going and your coming from now to eternity. Eternity. That’s God’s goal—not a happy-go-lucky life here, but a life of perfection forever with him. Jesus, too, showed that goal when he taught Nicodemus. God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, not to make life here a pleasure trip, but that we do not perish in hell but have eternal life—that we and all people be saved eternally through Jesus (cf. John 3:16-17). That’s what happened when Jesus was lifted up on the cross. That’s God’s “help” for us—or better, his complete rescue—his love for you lead him to his death, where he paid for your every sin.

Where does my help come from? Whether it feels like it in the moment or not, your help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth. He is never dozing and not paying attention. He does not make mistakes. He does not forget. He has your best interests in mind—especially your eternal best interests.

In good times and challenging times, lean on him. When Satan tempts you and brings doubt to your mind and heart, flee to the comfort of God’s Word that assures us of God’s eternal love. And as you go through the mountains of this life, as you face the wild animals and robbers of pain, sorrow, misery, disappointment, and heartache, take your Savior at his Word. He helps now and for eternity. Lord, you are our help and rescue. May your will be done. Amen.

"Adam's Disaster Is Solved by Christ" (Sermon on Romans 5:12-19) | February 26, 2023

Sermon Text: Romans 5:12-19
Date: February 26, 2023
Event: The First Sunday in Lent, Year A

Romans 5:12-19 (EHV)

So then, just as sin entered the world through one man and death through sin, so also death spread to all people because all sinned. 13For even before the law was given, sin was in the world. Now, sin is not charged to one’s account if there is no law, 14and yet death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those whose sin was not like the transgression of Adam, who is a pattern of the one who was to come.

15But the gracious gift is not like Adam’s trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of this one man, it is even more certain that God’s grace, and the gift given by the grace of the one man Jesus Christ, overflowed to the many!

16And the gift is not like the effect of the one man’s sin, for the judgment that followed the one trespass resulted in a verdict of condemnation, but the gracious gift that followed many trespasses resulted in a verdict of justification.

17Indeed, if by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through the one man, it is even more certain that those who receive the overflowing grace of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ!

18So then, just as one trespass led to a verdict of condemnation for all people, so also one righteous verdict led to life-giving justification for all people. 19For just as through the disobedience of one man the many became sinners, so also through the obedience of one man the many will become righteous.

Adam’s Disaster Is Solved by Christ

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Or so the saying goes. Such an attitude can be a double-edged sword. If you have a problem that is big and you take riskier and riskier paths to try to solve that problem, that can make things much worse than they began. Consider the man who is facing down the barrel of gigantic medical bills. He tries to pick up extra work to pay them, but it’s not enough. So, in a more desperate attempt to get money, he begins buying lottery tickets. When those don’t pan out, he takes the remaining money that he has left and attempts to multiply it in Las Vegas—and loses it all. Truly desperate times, but his desperate measures left him worse off than when he started.

It doesn’t get any more desperate than the situation mankind found itself in after our First Reading this morning. Adam and Eve were created in perfection. They were made in the image of God—in perfect harmony with God. They loved God perfectly and agreed with everything he said. He gave them one command—don’t eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil—as a way to show their thanks to him for everything he had done for them. Martin Luther called that tree their altar where they worshiped God. And then Satan stuck his nose in there.

Satan tried to get Adam and Eve to see God’s command not as a good thing, but as a limiting thing. “Do you want to be smarter, better, more like God? Just eat the fruit! It’ll be great!” And so, Eve eventually takes the fruit and eats it. And Adam, who was right there and did nothing to even attempt to stop this from happening, also eats it. And then it turns into the blame game. God confronts Adam; Adam blames Eve (and blames God as well); Eve in turn blames Satan. No one takes responsibility for their actions; no one approaches God with sorrow and repentance over what they had done.

And the results? Sin and death enter the world. But not just for Adam and Eve or the creation at that time. They brought full-blown corruption to everything until the end of time. Adam and Eve would have children, not in God’s image as they had been made, but in their own, fallen, sinful image. From Adam and Eve would come a sinful nature that has been passed on to every single person from the first children, Cain and Abel, down to you and me today. This inherited or original sin is why we are born as enemies of God, and why we are fighting against him from conception. This is why Paul said in our Second Reading that sin entered the world through one man and death through sin, so also death spread to all people because all sinned.

The result is that death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those whose sin was not like the transgression of Adam. When Paul says that people weren’t sinning like Adam did, he means that people weren’t breaking a stated or written law from God like don’t eat the fruit of the tree or like the laws God gave to Moses for the nation of Israel many years later. But God’s moral law still stood. People, despite being sinners, knew the basics of right and wrong—and ignored them. People from Adam on were breaking the laws that God had written in their hearts and were just as guilty of sin as Adam was. We know that because death is the result of sin—and everyone from Adam through Moses died (save for someone like Enoch whom we hear that God took directly to himself in Genesis chapter 5).

Look at how disastrous Adam’s sin was! He brought misery and pain into the world. People died because of sin—which was not part of God’s original design. Paul says, “Many died by the trespass of this one man.” But it’s even worse than that. Because it’s not just physical death that is the result of sin, but the spiritual death of unbelief that we are all born into and the eternal death of hell as the ultimate expression of what our sins deserved. That’s what Paul refers to when he says, “the judgment that followed the one trespass resulted in a verdict of condemnation.”

And what could we or anyone else do about this? Nothing. God’s demands are clear: be perfect. Anything short of perfection, even a single sin, brings condemnation. And because of Adam, we all started condemned from the get-go because we were born with sin as part of our nature. You can’t make God happy with you; you can’t pay off any of your sins; you can’t make your life with God right in any way.

That’s the result of Adam’s work. Of course, Paul is carefully comparing what Adam did to what Jesus did because whereas the result of Adam’s sin was a disaster for all the people that followed, the result of Jesus’ work for us means forgiveness for all people. Paul is back and forth, comparing the extreme opposites of Adam and Jesus throughout our Second Reading:

For if the many died by the trespass of this one man // it is even more certain that God’s grace, and the gift given by the grace of the one man Jesus Christ, overflowed to the many!

the gift is not like the effect of the one man’s sin, for the judgment that followed the one trespass resulted in a verdict of condemnation // but the gracious gift that followed many trespasses resulted in a verdict of justification.

if by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through the one man // it is even more certain that those who receive the overflowing grace of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the one man Jesus Christ!

just as one trespass led to a verdict of condemnation for all people // so also one righteous verdict led to life-giving justification for all people.

just as through the disobedience of one man the many became sinners // so also through the obedience of one man the many will become righteous.

Paul continues to state the problem and then the solution. Whereas Adam brought sin to all people, Jesus brought a life of perfection to all people. Jesus never sinned once in thought, word, or deed in his entire life. Because he is God and was conceived by the Holy Spirit, Jesus didn’t start out with a corrupted human nature; he started with a human nature as God originally designed it. He battled temptation just like we do but was always victorious. Our Gospel had one small example of that work as Jesus fought off the temptations of Satan with God’s Word and promises—the complete opposite way from how Adam and Eve dealt with temptation in the Garden of Eden.

But Paul is clear why he lived that perfect life. It wasn’t to prove it could be done. It wasn’t just to shame us even more by showing us that he did it just fine. It wasn’t even to provide a model for us to follow because we already have that corruption of sin; it’s too late for us to do anything to fix it. No, Jesus lived that perfect life in our place. Jesus’ perfect life, through faith, is credited to you and to me. We received this gift of righteousness through Jesus’ love and mercy to us. Now we have righteousness, that is, we have a right and proper relationship with God; the relationship that had been ruined by sin is fixed. This is the mission of grace that God the Father sent Jesus on; this is the certainty of our forgiveness that the Holy Spirit has given us the faith to trust.

And because of that, everything changes. Instead of being condemned, we have a verdict of life-giving justification. Justification is that courtroom term that means “to declare not guilty.” So instead of being condemned to hell for our sins, God looks at you and me and says, “Because of Jesus, you are not guilty.” Jesus’ perfect life is applied to us, and when Jesus died on the cross, he paid for every sin. We are freed. We are forgiven.

Adam’s disaster was gigantic; its damage was incalculable. But God’s plan to send a Savior—first promised right there in the garden when we are told a champion would come to crush the serpent’s head—is fulfilled in Jesus.

During Lent, we have the special opportunity to meditate on Jesus’ work to save us, and Paul begins this season with a look ahead to the results of that work. Though we deserved hell, Jesus suffered it for us. Though we should have been perfect, Jesus did that for us. So, because of Jesus, we have nothing to fear from God. Because of Jesus, our sins are forgiven. Because of Jesus, our lives are seen as perfect. Because of Jesus, we will be in the perfection of eternal life with God forever.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, and no measure is more desperate or more successful than God himself taking on human flesh, living in our place, suffering our hell, and giving us these eternal blessings as completely free gifts. Our desperate time called for desperate measures on God’s part, and that’s exactly what he did and accomplished for us. Adam’s disaster is solved by Christ. Jesus’ work means that Adam, Eve, you, and I are all forgiven. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"What Is Your Confidence?" (Sermon on 2 Peter 1:16-21) | February 19, 2023

Text: 2 Peter 1:16-21
Date: February 19, 2023
Event: The Transfiguration of Our Lord, Year A

2 Peter 1:16-21 (EHV)

To be sure, we were not following cunningly devised fables when we made known to you the powerful appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. 17For he received honor and glory from God the Father, when the voice came to him from within the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” 18We heard this voice, which came out of heaven when we were with him on the holy mountain.

19We also have the completely reliable prophetic word. You do well to pay attention to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the Morning Star rises in your hearts, 20since we know this above all else: No prophecy of Scripture comes about from someone’s own interpretation. 21In fact, no prophecy ever came by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were being carried along by the Holy Spirit.

What Is Your Confidence?

I don’t know how much you might have been paying attention to recent artificial intelligence advances that have gone public, but there’s been a streak of tools that let you “talk” with a computer and have a semi-convincing conversation with them. You can ask the computer to write you something and it will. Around Thanksgiving, I asked one of these tools to give me the worst possible recipe for preparing a turkey, and its horrible suggestions did not disappoint when considering that request. A month or two ago I asked it to write a Lutheran sermon based on a specific section of Scripture—and while I did not use any of what it gave me for any sermon preached, I was surprised that it was much better than I was expecting it would have been, if a little bit short and generic.

But the issue with this kind of tool for research is really the same issue you have when using more traditional means to find information on the internet be it Google or Wikipedia or even when you’re hunting through books. You always have to check the sources. Is it reliable? Is this information actually correct? For instance, one of these AI tools recently confidently told a user that tomatoes were not used for food until the 18th century, when in reality tomatoes have been used for food in different places around the world for multiple thousand years. But the computer will boldly and confidently lie to you, not necessarily because it had a programmed goal to deceive, but because of the training model it has or its programmed need to be confident even when it has no basis for such confidence.

As I read through Peter’s words in our Second Reading for this Transfiguration Sunday, I got to thinking about this. Because Peter has us very focused on confidence, on certainty. On what are we basing our hope and our confidence for eternity? Is it something trustworthy, or are we following the spiritual version of accepting whatever an AI chat program might tell us?

As Peter is writing his second New Testament letter, he knows that his death is likely close at hand. History tells us that Peter died in Emperor Nero’s harsh persecution of Christians in the empire around 68 AD, and this letter was written likely not long before that. So, because Peter knows that his time with these Christians is drawing to a close, he finds it especially necessary to prepare them for what is to come.

Because the truth is that it’s not just Peter’s life that is drawing to a close at this time. The whole era of the apostles is coming to an end. It’s likely that the apostle Paul also lost his life in Nero’s persecution, and by this point most of the apostles other than John had likely been killed—or would be in not too long of a time. And so, the whole landscape of the Christian church is changing. From Jesus’ ascension on it had been led by those who had been with Jesus, seen him after his resurrection, learned from him directly. Now, things are shifting, things are changing from those who had firsthand accounting of time with Jesus to those who learned from those who had it.

And so Peter wants to establish the basis of what they’ve been taught very clearly. To be sure, we were not following cunningly devised fables when we made known to you the powerful appearance of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty. What is Peter wanting his readers to remember? They weren’t just making this stuff up. Peter is saying, “When we told you about Jesus, we weren’t spinning a tall tale. When we told you about Jesus’ work for you, we were doing so as eyewitnesses. We saw him we heard him ourselves, and what we saw and heard we passed on to you.” We know that eyewitnesses are not always completely reliable, but we also do well to remember what Jesus promised his disciples: the Holy Spirit would come and remind them of everything that Jesus had said.

But if that were not enough, Peter takes us to further testimony about Jesus. For he received honor and glory from God the Father, when the voice came to him from within the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” We heard this voice, which came out of heaven when we were with him on the holy mountain. I find it fascinating at how large Jesus’ transfiguration looms in Peter’s mind all these years later. I’ve always had to fight the thought in my mind that Transfiguration is a “lesser” festival in the church that doesn’t rise to the level of Christmas, Good Friday, or Easter. And, sure, perhaps the transfiguration doesn’t factor in much in the accomplishing of our salvation. But it was immensely important to support Peter, James, and John and their testimony of who Jesus is. He’s not just some skilled teacher. He’s not just a moral and upright man. As we heard early in this season the Father confirm Jesus’ status at his baptism, so our Epiphany season is bookended by the second confirmation: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”

This confirmation of Jesus’ divinity and his success at completing the work the Father sent him to do left a lasting impression on Peter. What an amazing sight to behold! What a tremendous opportunity to have everything Jesus had taught him over the course of those years as his disciple confirmed in a miraculous way. The voice coming from the Majestic Glory—that Glory of the Lord that led the Israelites as a pillar of cloud and fire—assured them that everything that had been taught was right. And, as an eyewitness of that event, Peter was able to confirm the validity of everything to those he taught.

But, do you remember Peter’s problem at the Mount of Transfiguration? He wanted to put up three shelters there on the mountain to preserve that glory, to continue to bask in it and not leave. “Lord, it is good for us to be here!” (Matthew 17:4). Understandably, the sight was amazing and who wouldn’t want to stay in that place forever? Seeing Jesus much closer to his fully divine self than you normally saw him, hearing from the Father, spending time with legends of faith from the Old Testament—it would have been amazing! But there was more work to be done, there were things Jesus yet had to accomplish. They couldn’t stay there in this temporary glory, because the eternal glory was more important.

We often would like immediate gratification. We would like to just sit in tents on the mountain with Jesus and Moses and Elijah rather than facing the challenges that we will meet in this world. Perhaps we long to have an experience like Peter, James, and John did to have it proved to us that Jesus is who he says he is. Perhaps, we shy away from the crosses of this life because we don’t want to bear what is in front of us.

That’s the troubling thing about the Mount of Transfiguration—you always need to leave. In the structure of our church year, the near-Easter high of Transfiguration always gives way to the quiet and introspective season of Lent. We must leave this greatest Epiphany of Jesus’ glory and go back to this messy world and see Jesus get bloodied and executed to clean it. Whether it’s seeing the hardships that Jesus endured or—maybe more often—the hardships that we are enduring, many things can make us stop and wonder is this legitimate? Is this worth it? Is this worth putting my confidence in?

You haven’t seen Jesus glorified or heard the voice of the Father. You didn’t get to see Moses and Elijah, and you didn’t even get to have the nervous, adrenaline-fueled stuttering that Peter had. You are not an eyewitness of Jesus’ glory, nor did you get to learn directly from one of those eyewitnesses. No, you missed out on all of that. And, Peter says, that means that you have something even better: We also have the completely reliable prophetic word. You do well to pay attention to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the Morning Star rises in your hearts, since we know this above all else: No prophecy of Scripture comes about from someone’s own interpretation. In fact, no prophecy ever came by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were being carried along by the Holy Spirit.

Note that Peter acknowledges that going through this life is like wandering in a dark and gloomy place. But you are not without light. In fact, Peter says, even better than seeing Jesus glorified on the hilltop is having the completely reliable prophetic word. Whether we think of this narrowly as the prophets from the Old Testament or probably better the whole of God’s Word in both Old and New Testament, Peter reminds us of where the Scriptures came from. They were not some clever stories someone came up with. They are not fables or myths. No, these Scriptures are the completely accurate words of our God, written down by men who were being carried and inspired by the Holy Spirit.

It would surely have been a tremendous blessing to be there on the Transfiguration mount, but in dark times, would there be a temptation to wonder if it was real? Would there have been a temptation to wonder if it was a dream you dreamed? How much more reliable is the Word of God that you and I can go back to, check ourselves with, and correct any false or misguided notions we might have! We don’t have to think back to some spectacular but one-time event; we have the facts of Jesus’ work and the messages of those he sent recorded for us. We have his adoption in the waters of baptism. We have his forgiveness given in a tangible way in the Lord’s Supper. Our confidence and our certainty come from these gifts that he’s given to us, gifts that are in many ways better and more complete than even what Peter, James, John, Paul, or anyone else who spoke directly to Jesus had. They were involved in writing the Scriptures; we have them in full.

So, as we journey through the gloom of this life, let’s not lose track of that lamp that shines the way for us. The day will come when the Morning Star will rise in our hearts—when we will be in heaven with Jesus and see him face to face, where we will have no need for a lamp because we will be in light of God’s glory forever. But, until that day, we are guided by the Word of God that assures us that Jesus has forgiven every sin. Until that day, we are guided by the Word of God that shows us how we can best live our lives to thank God for his mercy and forgiveness. Until that day, we are guided by the Word of God that continually points us ahead to what is coming: not an unending world of gloomy darkness, but a world of perfect light where we will see Jesus as he really is, not for a few brief moments, but forever. There we will not need to set up tents, because we will be in our permanent home.

As we begin our journey into Lent this week, keep these blessings and promises in mind. As you come down the mountain from our worship this morning, keep in mind the blessings of God’s Word that bring us confidence—certainty—even in a world that seems completely devoid of it. As we continue our walk through this life, see Jesus as the one who not only saved you, but who continually protects you. Amen.

"We Walk in God's Ways!" (Sermon on Psalm 119:1-8) | February 12, 2023

Text: Psalm 119:1-8

Date: February 12. 2023

Event: The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

Psalm 119:1–8 (EHV)

How blessed are those who are blameless in their way,

who walk in the law of the Lord.

2How blessed are those who keep his testimonies.

With all their heart they seek him.

3Indeed, they do no wrong.

They walk in his ways.

4You have commanded that your precepts be kept completely.

5If only my ways were unwavering in keeping your statutes!

6Then I would not be put to shame when I consider all your commands.

7I will thank you with an upright heart

as I learn your righteous judgments.

8I will keep your statutes.

Do not abandon me completely.

We Walk in God’s Ways!

I enjoy going hiking, but one thing I don’t like is trails that are hard to follow. Maybe they’re not popular, so they’re not real well worn down. Maybe the signage around them is sparse if it exists at all. Maybe you look at a hiking map or the GPS on your phone and can’t make heads or tails out of what you’re supposed to do or where you’re supposed to go. And that’s a distressing feeling—not just not knowing where you are, but perhaps not knowing how to get back.

Roads and paths that are well marked are a true blessing. Whether hiking on a trail or driving across the country, if the signs in front of you or the directions from the GPS are clear, then you can have confidence that where you’re going is correct—and that you’ll likely get back home just fine as well.

Our psalm for this morning was a very brief section of the opening verses of the longest chapter of the Bible. Psalm 119 is complicated Hebrew poetry with a unifying theme: the blessing of God’s Word. And the psalm writer uses a lot of vivid imagery in the psalm, much of which compares God’s Word to a path or something that shows us the way to go.

But to fully understand what the psalm writer is saying, we need to understand some of the vocabulary. The term “law” and its synonyms can be used in a narrow sense and a wide sense. In the narrow sense, the word “law” in God’s Word refers to God’s rules and regulations. We might think of a summary like those found in the Ten Commandments. But the word “law” can also be broader; depending on the context, “law” can refer to the whole of God’s Word, both the condemning message of the narrow law and the restoring message of the gospel—the good news that God has rescued us from our sin.

And it’s this broader use of the word “law” that the psalm writer employs in the first verse: How blessed are those who are blameless in their way, who walk in the law of the Lord. To walk in the law of the Lord, to be truly blameless, cannot be someone doing their best to keep all of God’s rules. Because we can’t; no one can. While the expectation from God was in fact perfection, no one can be blameless by trying to keep the law because we all have sinned and fallen short of God’s expectations for us. No, the one who is “blameless” is the one who has been forgiven. So, the one who is blessed is the one who goes about in the whole will of God—knowing their sins clearly, but also knowing their Savior even more clearly. God’s Word charts a clear way through this life to know yourself and to know your loving God.

In v. 2, the psalm writer says that people are blessed who “keep his testimonies.” The Hebrew word for “keep” here is a different word than is used in the rest of these verses. While elsewhere the English word “keep” is being used in the sense of keeping the commands of God through obedience, this use of “keep” shades more toward protection. The person is blessed who loves and protects the testimonies of God—the covenant he’s made with his people. When we guard God’s Word with our lives—when we let the good news of God’s love have a place of prominence in our weeks, days, and hours, we are blessed by this. When God’s Word directs our path, we have the full confidence of our standing with God. This confidence and these blessings come through that Word we value and protect, because there God works trust in our hearts to be able to depend on all that he’s promised.

The back-and-forth of the next few verses is really telling about the life a believer in this world. While being blessed by guarding God’s testimonies, the believer seeks God with all their heart… Indeed, they do no wrong. They walk in his ways. These verses kind of make it sound like a believer will end up being perfect, that if you really loved God enough, you would finally stop sinning. That kind of thinking leads us to turn inward, examine our own lives, and walk away feeling hopeless. Because you and I? We haven’t been perfect and we can’t be perfect. Never mind what has come before today, we can’t even decide to be perfect for the rest of this day, the rest of this hour, and accomplish that. So are we outside of those who are blessed? Are we separate from those who truly value God’s Word because sin is present in our lives? Are we people who are not walking in God’s ways?

How comforting the psalm writer’s exasperation in v. 5 is! If only my ways were unwavering in keeping your statutes! Is perfection the goal? Of course! We always want to obey what God has said, we always want to follow his commands. But the psalm writer is clear and realistic that we won’t always do that. In fact, it might feel like we never do that because sin is such an ever-present companion. The more we want to do good, the more sin seems to attack. The more we strive to do what is right, the more wrong things end up like pits that we fall into.

God is clear in his Word about right and wrong. And if I were just left to my own devices, I would just make excuses for myself or rationalize my actions that what I’m doing or thinking or saying really isn’t wrong because I had good reasons! Maybe I find someone else to blame for my failures. Maybe I start distorting what God has said so that right becomes wrong and wrong becomes right.

But then I look into the mirror of God’s Word and I’m faced with the reality in black and white that I do not get to decide what is right and wrong. God sets that standard; I don’t. And I have failed to be a person that meets his standard. So I share the psalmist’s exasperated sigh, If only my ways were unwavering in keeping your statutes! Then I would not be put to shame when I consider all your commands.

But the psalm writer doesn’t give up and say, “Well, this is hopeless. I can’t ever do what God expects so I might as well give up.” No, in fact, he moves from this exasperation in himself to thanks: I will thank you with an upright heart as I learn your righteous judgments. Why is he thanking God? Because God’s judgment is that you are justified, you are forgiven, you are not guilty, because someone else has satisfied God’s demands for you.

Remember that Jesus said last week in our Gospel that he did not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it. Jesus lived the life of perfection that God expected you and me to live. He fulfilled every command—he actually was “unwavering” in keeping God’s law. And that fulfillment of the law he did for you and me. Every command that Jesus kept perfectly is as if you and I did that. His life is our life. When the Father looks at us, he doesn’t see someone who fails, fails, fails. He only sees Jesus, his perfect Son, who lived for us.

And that is our motivation to walk in God’s ways. We don’t need to berate ourselves or belittle ourselves and determine we are such awful failures. We need to see sin for what it is—a failing on our part that has been solved by Jesus. And when we can see God’s love and forgiveness that way, we share the thanks and motivation that the psalm writer had for doing his best to keep and guard God’s Word—not to earn God’s love, but doing these things, walking in his ways, because that love has already been freely given to us.

The psalm writer closes our verses with this plea, “Do not abandon me completely.” I don’t really think he thought this was likely. He knew what God had promised—we know what God has done. While certainly we deserved God to abandon us because of our sins, he saved us instead. In fact, the Hebrew word translated here “abandon” is the same word that Jesus quoted from Psalm 22 when from the cross he said, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1, Matthew 27:46, Mark 15:34). We know the answer to that question. He forsook and abandoned Jesus to hell on the cross because that’s what our sins deserve. God will not abandon us, because he abandoned Jesus in our place.

This is the love of God. This is the joyful message of his Word. This is the reason that we walk in God’s ways, in thanksgiving for all that he’s done for us! Thanks be to God now and forever! Amen.

"Live in God's Marvelous Light!" (Sermon on 1 Peter 2:9-12) | February 5, 2023

Text: 1 Peter 2:9–12

Date: February 5, 2023

Event: The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

1 Peter 2:9–12 (EHV)

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, the people who are God’s own possession, so that you may proclaim the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. 10At one time you were not a people, but now you are the people of God. At one time you were not shown mercy, but now you have been shown mercy.

11Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and temporary residents in the world, to abstain from the desires of the sinful flesh, which war against your soul. 12Live an honorable life among the Gentiles so that even though they slander you as evildoers, when they observe your noble deeds, they may glorify God on the day he visits us.

Live in God’s Marvelous Light!

How often do you catch yourself taking things for granted? I’ve noticed myself becoming a bit numb to the area we are privileged to live in after being here for more than a decade. This past Monday, it was clear a but cool morning and I went for a bike ride up the Bay Trail. As you approach the area in San Mateo around Coyote Point, you’re greeted with an incredible view of the San Francisco skyline across the waters of the Bay, with the Bay Bridge stretching off east into the distance. When it’s not completely socked in by fog, it’s pretty remarkable!

But as I turned that corner and that sight came into view, in the moment, I hardly noticed it. A few minutes later I had to kick myself a little bit to zero in on the view and appreciate that this is home, this is where we get to live, this is where we get to serve. What a tremendous blessing and privilege!

Taking things for granted can be dangerous. You start ignoring the blessings you have been given. Problems start to get multiplied and scale out of control in your mind. And taking things for granted, especially the eternal blessings we have, is exactly what Peter is trying to address in our Second Reading for today. Let us not take for granted the blessings we have in Jesus, but let us value what they mean for us every day of our lives so that we may thank God and share his goodness with others!

In the early weeks of the Epiphany season, we’ve seen Jesus revealed for who he is. In the latter weeks of this season, though, our focus turns to revelation on what it means to be a follower of Jesus. We heard last week in the Gospel Jesus’ teaching about how being his follower will likely mean finding blessings in the things the world would say are curses. Being gentle, poor, insulted all bring about blessings because, as Jesus reminded us, the follower of Jesus is always looking ahead to eternal life, to the true blessings that are coming in the future.

And while this future-gazing and eternal perspective is good, we also want to not take for granted our standing with God while we journey through this life. We want to avoid two extremes: the one that goes through this life ignoring the people and responsibilities around us and exclusively focused on eternity, or the other that sees eternity as so far away to be meaningless to my every day life.

As Peter is writing his New Testament letters, he knows that he is rapidly approaching the end of his life. It seems likely that Peter died around 68 AD during the great persecution against Christians that emperor Nero carried out in the Roman Empire. So his letters are very forward looking for his readers. When he’s gone, Peter wants them to remember what is truly important and hold on to the truth that God had committed to them.

In our Second Reading for this morning, taken from the first half of his first letter, Peter encourages his people  to remember what God has made them. We know what we are by nature: sinners who have set ourselves as enemies of God. The rebellion of our sin means that by nature we are fighting against God and deserve the punishment of hell for our insolence. We are cut off from him and, in hell, would be separated from God forever.

But, that is not our current standing. Who are we now? But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, the people who are God’s own possession. That’s the polar opposite of what we are by nature. We were naturally separated from God, but now we belong to God. We were rejected because of our sin, but now we are a chosen people. We were vile to God, polluted by sin, but now we are his royal priests. We were at war with God, but now we are his own holy nation.

How? How did this change happen? What caused such a complete role reversal for us? Well, Peter reminds us. [you were] called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. At one time you were not a people, but now you are the people of God. At one time you were not shown mercy, but now you have been shown mercy. Notice how the changes came about from outside of us. Peter reminds us that we didn’t make this change, God did. We were in darkness, and he called us to his light. We were rejected, but then God made us his people. We had no mercy shown to us, but now God has shown us his mercy.

That mercy came in the form of his Son, Jesus. Jesus’ mission was to come and live in our place. And so Jesus became the rejected one, the despised one, the one punished for all sin—even though he did nothing wrong. He became sin in our place and suffered the wrath of God so that you and I would not. These early stages of Jesus’ ministry that we focus on during this Epiphany season are leading us directly into Lent, the season where we will spend time focusing on Jesus’ payment for our sins.

Jesus is the mercy of God shown to us. Jesus is our adoption into God’s family—his work in our place makes us his sisters and brothers. We are set free from sin because Jesus paid for it all on the cross. We will have eternal life with our God because of Jesus’ victory in our place.

That’s the eternal perceptive that we’ve talked about. But, how does Peter want that to affect us right now. Why does he want us to consider not just that will be be a chosen people, royal priesthood, holy nation, God’s own possession but that by God’s grace we are all of those things right now?

He gives us the key in the middle of that paragraph. You are all of those things that you may proclaim the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Our life here is to proclaim God’s praise with our life. The things we do, the thoughts we think, the words we speak and likely even the tone we use with those words are all opportunities to proclaim God’s praises. This is the difference, as we heard a couple of weeks ago, between walking about in the darkness of sin and walking in light of God’s love and forgiveness.

So Peter encourages a balance: remember that life here is temporary, but still walk in light, still glorify God in how you conduct yourself: Dear friends, I urge you, as aliens and temporary residents in the world, to abstain from the desires of the sinful flesh, which war against your soul. Live an honorable life among the Gentiles so that even though they slander you as evildoers, when they observe your noble deeds, they may glorify God on the day he visits us.

What is the purpose of a life live in God’s marvelous light? First of all it praises our God who rescued us, who called us out of darkness in his light. But it also another purpose. Peter zeroes in on it in the last verse of this reading: Live an honorable life among the Gentiles so that even though they slander you as evildoers, when they observe your noble deeds, they may glorify God on the day he visits us.

When we live an honorable, godly life, a life that glorifies our Savior, we have an impact on the people around us. Jesus called us to be the light of the world in our Gospel for this morning because we are to be beacons of God’s light in this dark world. Some people who hate us without cause see our lives lived and have to at least reflect on the fact that there’s something different about us. Peter says that in the end, when they observe your deeds, they will at least recognize God “on the day he visits us.” Not necessarily faith, but in the same way that Paul said at the last day, every knee will bow at Jesus and confess or acknowledge him as Lord.

That is, of course, if we understand the day God visits us as the Last Day, Judgement Day. But that day won’t be a mere visit; that will be when we come home with him forever. So, perhaps, Peter means when God visits us with his means of grace, with the message of the gospel.

If we live our lives like anyone else or even in rampant sin, we very likely give Christians in general a bad name with people who are not believers. But, if we live a life that glorifies God, if we are able to show that our faith impacts the way we live and it stands out even to the unbelievers, perhaps that is pre-evangelism. If our lives are not concerned about getting our way or forcing people to do what we think they should do, but instead is a life overflowing with concern and empathy for others, perhaps God uses that to set the gears in motion for someone to not flat out reject and ignore the gospel. Perhaps your life of faith lived among that surly coworker or neighbor opens the door one day for someone to share Jesus with them—even if you don’t see that fruit. Maybe they think back about that one Christian they knew and how that person was so nice to them even though they did not deserve it, and it serves as a picture to begin to teach them about the truly undeserved love of God. Peter’s thought certainly seem to echo and paraphrase what Jesus said in the Gospel: Let your light shine in people’s presence, so that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven (Matthew 5:16).

So this is not merely about praising God, but it certainly is that. But your life of faith, your living in God’s marvelous light, may actually be part of the reason that someone else is in heaven with us. So, dear Christian, consider your walk of faith and the love your Savior has shown to you. Consider how you live as an ambassador for the Savior. My dear brothers and sisters who have been called out of the darkness into God’s light—let’s walk by that light, live by that light, to give thanks to our God. And who knows? Perhaps God will use that life as part of the story he writes to bring another person to faith—even someone you would never think would trust in Jesus as their Savior. After all, he’s called people like you and me into his marvelous light. Certainly, then, it is for everyone! Amen.

"Who Were You? Who Are You?" (Sermon on 1 Corinthians 1:26-31) | January 29, 2023

Text: 1 Corinthians 1:26-31

Date: January 29, 2023

Event: The Fourth Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

1 Corinthians 1:26-31 (EHV)

For example, consider your call, brothers. Not many of you were wise from a human point of view, not many were powerful, and not many were born with high status. 27But God chose the foolish things of the world to put to shame those who are wise. God chose the weak things of the world to put to shame the things that are strong, 28and God chose the lowly things of the world and the despised things, and the things that are not, to do away with the things that are, 29so that no one may boast before God. 30But because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us the wisdom from God, namely, our righteousness and sanctification and redemption. 31God did this so that, just as it is written, “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”

Who Were You? Who Are You?

How are your Christmas presents working out? Did you get anything that was a huge disappointment? I hope not, but maybe there was something that you were looking forward to that just didn’t live up to the hype or the expectations you had for it.

Was there something that you received that surprised you by how useful it was? Maybe it seemed like nothing but once you put into use it was something you’ve found yourself using daily. Maybe it was something you didn’t even know existed until someone got it for you and now it feels almost indispensable.

Those are the good surprises. The movie you go to on a whim that ends up being a favorite, the meal you mistakenly order at the restaurant that is not at all what you were planning when it arrives—but it is also so delicious.

In our Second Reading for this morning, Paul wants us to have a bit of a epiphany and surprise at the state of our lives. Who were we naturally? Who are we now that God has done his work for us? How should we consider ourselves? A huge disappointment or surprisingly useful?

Paul’s first letter to the Christians living in the city of Corinth is not an overly positive letter. This congregation had a lot of problems. There were stark divisions in the congregation. Those divisions sometimes went along lines of which apostle or Christian teacher they valued more highly than the others, or it followed socio-economic divisions so that the rich just hung around with the rich and the poor were left by themselves. The Lord’s Supper was a particularly egregious problem, as some people were consuming so much that they got drunk while others were given nothing at all.

As Paul addresses these issues in this first letter, he wants them to consider their standing with God. Is there any reason for them to be holding anything over anyone else? Do they really have reason to boast in themselves or think very highly of their thoughts and opinions, or should they be more “down to earth” in their thinking?

Paul starts this probing at the beginning of our reading: Consider your call, brothers. Not many of you were wise from a human point of view, not many were powerful, and not many were born with high status. But God chose the foolish things of the world to put to shame those who are wise. God chose the weak things of the world to put to shame the things that are strong, and God chose the lowly things of the world and the despised things, and the things that are not, to do away with the things that are, so that no one may boast before God. What is Paul’s point? Who were you, Corinthians, before God called you to faith? Not much. No one would have expected anything from you. You were not the smartest people on earth. Few had power or nobility in their blood. But in calling them to faith, Paul says God used weak and lowly things to confront the world’s idea of strong and boastful.

And this is not just commentary on the Corinthians’ social standing prior to being called to faith. Paul is speaking about these things from God’s point of view. Was there anything in the Corinthians that attracted God to them? Was there anything in them that would have led him to say, “Oh, I simply MUST have them as part of my church!” No! Their calling to faith was God’s doing and their status with God was entirely produced by God.

We can think through the same line of thought. Was there anything special in us before God called us to be Christians, before he brought us to faith? Was there anything in you or me that would have led God to say, “Wow, now that is a special person! I need her!” Or “I need him!” No! In fact, quite the opposite.

We were like the Christmas present for which there were grand expectations and then it failed to meet any of those expectations. We were created to have perfect harmony with our God and yet we abandoned that and sought our own way. From Adam and Eve’s sin in the Garden of Eden to our sins committed this morning, our whole natural history has been fighting against God and against his will.

So is there anything of value in you by nature? No. Is there anything that God would find appealing in you on your own? No. But this is message of the gospel: despite being at war with God, he still loved us. His grace means that he loved us even though we didn’t deserve it. Jesus is the epitome of the weak overcoming the strong. How strong sin and death looked on Good Friday! How weak Jesus looked nailed to a cross! Yet, by faith, you can see what was actually happening there. The weak was defeating the strong. And if there’s any doubt that that’s what was happening, three days later Jesus’ empty tomb removes that doubt.

Jesus came and sacrificed himself for us, not because we were so lovable, but because he loved us in spite of ourselves. Jesus’ life and death for us purges everything awful about us and makes us into the perfect people that he expected us to be. We don’t boast before God, but Paul tells us that because of God’s work for us you are in Christ Jesus, who became for us the wisdom from God, namely, our righteousness and sanctification and redemption. Because of what the world would call foolishness and weakness, we have righteousness, a right relationship with God; we have been redeemed, bought back from sin and death so that we belong to God once again; we have been sanctified, set apart as holy, special, and precious to our God. All of this comes not from ourselves, but from him who loved us. Paul stresses: God did this so that, just as it is written, “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.”

And while that’s a real hit to our self-esteem, God is making the point that self-esteem isn’t what should be of prime importance for us—our esteem found in Christ is what matters. Our weakness magnifies God’s strength. I’m truly strong when I recognize my own weaknesses, because I’m left with nothing else in that moment other than being able to depend on God. And if my hope and dependance are completely and only on God for peace now and eternal life to come, then I’m truly resting in the most powerful possible place.

But that is not the way that the world often looks at this. With faith in Jesus does not come worldly-impressive changes. While we are the people God expects because of Jesus, we are not necessarily people that the world thinks are impressive. As Christians, we are not likely to be able to navigate this sin-corrupted world and have a lot of people think that we are so amazing and wonderful. In fact, the world will find Christians annoying and repulsive because that’s what they think about our Savior and his mission to save them.

That’s why Jesus’ teaching in the Sermon on the Mount in our Gospel sounded so backwards. Praising the gentle, the poor, the hungry, and the insulted? How does that make any sense? And how does it make sense that we would suffer degradation in this life if God has loved us so completely?

God’s love may not provide worldly-impressive power or status, but there’s a reason for that. God wants us always focused on what is ahead. He wants us remembering that there is something better and far more complete waiting for us on the other side of eternity. If this life were perfect, without any hardship or challenge, we may be deluded into thinking that this life is the be-all, end-all of existence, rather than straining and longing for the perfect, eternal life that is to come, that life which Jesus won for us by his blood.

Becoming a Christian probably didn’t bring with it amazing earthly wealth, or standing and respect among your peers. In fact, there’s a chance that it has meant just the opposite for you. But that keeps us ever focused on the true prize God has prepared: not peace and comfort here in this world of sin and decay but eternal peace and comfort in the life to come, where there will be no sin or sorrow or sickness. The weakness of this life leads us to be every looking forward to the strength of the life to come.

Who were you? A sinner who set themselves at war with God. Who are you? A dearly loved child of God who has been forgiven of every sin and assured of eternal life for the sake of Jesus. None of us are better or worse than anyone else. We were all equally condemned by our sin and equally forgiven by Jesus. When it doesn’t feel like that truth is having an impact, remember that when you are weak here and depending on God’s strength, then you are truly strong. “Let the one who boasts boast in the Lord.” Amen.

"The Light Has Dawned" (Sermon on Matthew 4:12-23) | January 22, 2023

Text: Matthew 4:12-23

Date: January 22, 2023

Event: The Third Sunday after Epiphany, Year A

Matthew 4:12-23 (EHV)

When Jesus heard that John was put in prison, he withdrew into Galilee. 13He left Nazareth and went to live in Capernaum, which is by the sea, in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali. 14He did this to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah:

15Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali,

along the way of the sea, beyond the Jordan,

Galilee of the Gentiles,

16the people dwelling in darkness have seen a great light,

and on those dwelling in the region and the shadow of death a light has dawned.

17From that time, Jesus began to preach: “Repent, because the kingdom of heaven is near.”

18As Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the sea, since they were fishermen. 19He said to them, “Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.”

20They immediately left their nets and followed him. 21Going on from there, he saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee and his brother John. They were in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets. Jesus called them. 22Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.

23Jesus traveled throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the gospel of the kingdom, and healing every disease and every sickness among the people.

The Light Has Dawned

This time of year, I find it really, really difficult to get out of bed while it’s still dark. And that’s not great because the sun rises so late that probably you need to be out of bed to before it’s light out in order to be properly ready for the day. But, one of the things I really do like is just feeling the transition from darkness to light that you get as the sun rises.

The darkness is a bit scary. One of our goals with our recent work around campus is to bring better light to more areas around the church and parsonage. The new lights shine better and more evenly around the parking lot, there are now more fixtures outside the Fellowship Hall for brighter light, and even the paths between the church and parsonage will be getting new lights to make that path better lit. Darkness is scary because you just don’t know what’s there. Will there be a branch or a rock you might trip over? Is a raccoon waiting to jump you for your food scraps you’re taking to the compost bin? You just don’t know.

But that transition from darkness to light is an epiphany itself. You can suddenly see what was hidden. The pathway that just moments before may have been perilous is now trivial. And even if the temperature doesn’t actually rise, there is a feeling of warmth that comes from the sun beginning to shine where it had previously been dark and cold.

All of our readings for this morning use this light/dark comparison to describe the coming of the Savior into the world. We’ll focus our attention primarily on God’s words in Matthew’s Gospel, but all the readings tie together to describe the coming of Jesus as light shining in darkness. And we can see that not only historically as the Light of the World began to clearly shine at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, but we will see it personally as the light of God’s love shines on us and changes us from darkness-dwellers to those who love God’s light and love to walk about in that light.

Matthew gives us a little bit of context for when these events take place: When Jesus heard that John was put in prison, he withdrew into Galilee. This is still very early in Jesus’ ministry, but we should run down a few things that have already happened. Jesus has already been baptized by John the Baptist, as we celebrated last week. John has already directly pointed to Jesus as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. John has already been clear that Jesus must increase while John himself must decrease. And many of John’s disciples have begun listening to Jesus as a teacher, if not yet formally following him full time as his disciples.

I’m very grateful that we are largely done with those compact florescent lightbulbs. The most annoying thing about them was that they needed to warm up. So you would turn on a light, and as opposed to the older incandescent bulbs or the newer LED bulbs, the CFL bulbs would start out dim and then slowly but surely get brighter until it reached full brightness. And as annoying as that was to me in practice, it actually serves as a good picture of what’s going on here with Jesus. If we focus on the light shining, the bulb has been turned on, but Jesus’ brightness is slowly but surely growing.

Jesus relocates from Nazareth to Capernaum. Nazareth was not too far from Capernaum, but Capernaum was right on the Sea of Galilee whereas Nazareth was set in from the sea quite a ways. Capernaum was more directly on trade routes and would have put Jesus in contact with more people than sleepy Nazareth might have. This would serve as home base for most of Jesus’ ministry, in accord with what we had read from Isaiah, that the the region of Galilee, warts of which were given to the tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali as their inheritance and home, where both Nazareth and Capernaum were, would be where this light would shine.

And we’re told that this light begins to shine primarily in the message that Jesus proclaimed: “Repent, because the kingdom of heaven is near.” Jesus’ message is very similar to what John had been preaching. Jesus picks up the baton from his forerunner to continue and expounds on the work that John had been doing.

We should take a moment to make sure we understand what repentance is. Repentance is a change of attitude about sin. Instead of loving sin or seeking after sin or just being indifferent toward it, someone who is repentant has sorrow over their sin but also trusts that God has forgiven it. Repentance is never doubtful or scared. Repentance is always pointing to God’s forgiveness as the solution to sin and as the motivation to turn away from it. Repentance is the attitude of a thankful heart knowing that it has been forgiven, wanting to express its thanks to God.

John and Jesus’ message was an encouragement toward repentance because it represents a “walking toward the light.” Walking the path of sin is stumbling around in the dark. Living by principles that put you at odds with God will only end in disaster eternally, but probably even in the short-term as well. So Jesus calls to those listening to him to abandon the path of sin and journey on God’s path. Walk toward the light, a path illuminated by the assurance of God’s free and full forgiveness. Jesus, as the one who would make this forgiveness a reality by his life and death in our place, was uniquely positioned to be able to make this call to the light because it was a call to himself.

Sometimes we don’t want to heed that call, though. Maybe a particular sin really has its claws in us. Maybe we like stumbling around in the darkness. Maybe we feel freedom in doing what we want to do regardless of what God says is good and right. And so we hear calls for repentance and we think, “Maybe later…” and we see Jesus shining as the beacon of forgiveness and we avert our eyes and try to ignore him so that we can live as we want to live.

The disciples called to full-time service with Jesus in the midst of this reading can really serve as role models for us. They left not just sin, but the lives they knew behind. The nets and boats and family stay where they were and Peter, Andrew, James, and John go to follow Jesus. They saw the light, they heard his call, and they followed him.

Can we do the same? Can we dedicate ourselves to our Savior to the same degree? Likely, God is not calling us to leave behind life as we know it to follow him. But he does call on us to leave behind sin. And he doesn’t call us to live a good life to be forgiven of past offenses; he calls on us to live a good life because we’ve been forgiven. A bright light that you don’t want to look at still shines. The sun will still be there no matter how buried under the blankets you make yourself. So, too, even when we are staring in the direction of the darkness of sin, Jesus still calls to us with reminders of forgiveness, forgiveness that leads us to repentance.

God has called you out of the darkness and into his light. You and I were those dwelling in the region and the shadow of death, but over us the light of God’s mercy has dawned. My brothers and sisters, let’s not get wrapped up in what we want to do when it is contrary to God’s will for us. Let us follow this light that has dawned over us. Let us repent of our sins—whatever they may be—and follow our Savior. Let us follow the light that has shined in our hearts and removed our sins.

That’s the epiphany we’ve been given, to see that the promised Light has arrived and has rescued us. Let’s follow his love and forgiveness out of the darkness of sin as we journey through this life. And let us ever be looking forward to that eternal life that he has given us—a life with no darkness at all—where we will be surrounded by the light of our Savior’s love forever.

Lord Jesus, keep us in your care now and until you bring us to that glorious light of our true, eternal home. Amen.

"God Anointed Jesus as the Savior of All" (Sermon on Acts 10:34-38) | January 15, 2023

Text: Acts 10:34-38

Date: January 15, 2023

Event: The Baptism of our Lord (observed), Year A

Acts 10:34-38 (EHV)

Then Peter began to speak: “Now I really am beginning to understand that God does not show favoritism, 35but in every nation, anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. 36He sent his word to the people of Israel, proclaiming the good news of peace through Jesus Christ, who is Lord of all.

37“You know what happened throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John preached. 38God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power. He went around doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the Devil, because God was with him.

God Anointed Jesus as the Savior of All

Scope creep is a real danger to any project. We’ve wrestled with that a little bit in our recent work on campus. When you start doing some renovations, no matter what boundaries you set for the project originally, it seems inevitable that things will be added to it, either because it becomes necessary or because you had new ideas once you’re into the project that you didn’t have when you were in the planning stage.

But with God, there is no scope creep in anything that he does. He perfectly knows the needs and perfectly knows the complete solution, even if we don’t. And that can produce frustration for us because we approach God in prayer asking for help with problems and perhaps even bringing forth possible solutions, and his response may be that we don’t have the perspective to fully understand the problem and thus to understand the solution.

And so while that can be frustrating, there’s also a comfort in knowing that God’s perspective will lead to the real, best solution to any given problem even if we can’t see it. Sometimes, though, we are able to look back and start to understand what God likely had in mind even if we were blind to it at the time.

That’s the kind of epiphany that Peter has as he speaks in our Second Reading from Acts chapter 10. Peter outlines that God had bigger and grander plans than Peter had even realized, that Jesus was not just the Savior of some, but that God had anointed him as the Savior of all!

This account takes place in the early days of the Christian church. We’re past the time of Jesus’ ministry. His life, death, and resurrection and have come and gone, and now Jesus has ascended to heaven. The apostles are going out with the message of sins forgiven in Jesus’ substitutionary work. The first Christian Pentecost day was an outward, visible triumph as God brought 3,000 people to faith in Jesus through the preaching of the apostles. And while we don’t have many other grand mass-conversations recorded for us, a few chapters before our reading the Holy Spirit tells us through Luke’s pen, “The word of God kept on spreading, and the number of disciples in Jerusalem increased greatly” (Acts 6:7).

Jesus, though, had promised that the disciples would be his witnesses in Jerusalem and Judea, but then also to the ends of the earth. And this movement toward sharing the gospel with Gentiles, with those who are not Jewish, was a difficult one. It was difficult in large part because of cultural inertia. God had established clear boundaries between his people and the other nations. They were not to intermarry; they were not to work together; even their diets were supposed to be different, labeling many of the foods that the surrounding nations ate and enjoyed as unclean. If we paint with a very, very broad brush, God had made it a sin in his ceremonial law for his people to look and act like the surrounding nations. But, in Jesus those laws had been fulfilled, their purposes were done, and God’s people were entering into a new era.

At the beginning of Acts chapter 10, we hear of a Gentile named Cornelius. He was a centurion in the Roman military and also a proselyte, someone who was not of the bloodline of Abraham who had converted to Jewish faith. He saw a vision of an angel coming to him, directing him to send for Peter. Cornelius immediately sent some trusted people to go and fetch Peter.

While this is happening in Cornelius’ home, Peter was praying where he was staying. He saw a vision of a large sheet or tablecloth being set before him with all sorts of unclean animals. A voice directed him to kill and eat these animals. And Peter, being the faithful Jewish believer that he was, was appalled at the idea. His response in the vision was “Certainly not, Lord, for I have never eaten anything impure or unclean” (Acts 10:14). But the voice he heard responded, “What God has made clean, you must not continue to call unclean” (Acts 10:15). This happened three times.

As Peter came out of the vision, the men that Cornelius had sent to summon Peter arrived at the house. The Holy Spirit directed Peter to go with them, so the next morning they made the trek to Caesarea. Coming into a Gentile’s home was considered wrong—it made Peter ceremonially unclean. But the vision of the animals that God had given to Peter was directing him to see the Gentiles not as unclean people to be avoided, but as people loved by God who needed the message of sins forgiven in Jesus. So Peter began to share the good news about Jesus with them—the beginning of which is our reading for this morning.

And you can see the revelation and epiphany happening in real-time for Peter. “Now I really am beginning to understand…” Peter was a work in progress—just like us. He was growing in his understanding of the scope of God’s plan to rescue people from sin. And even though Jesus and the Old Testament before him had made it plain that this forgiveness was for the world, he, like us, needed nudges and help to process this information and apply it to his life.

Peter takes us back to Jesus’ baptism by John in the Jordan in these brief verses. “God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power. He went around doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the Devil, because God was with him.” Jesus’ baptism was his anointing, his commissioning, the formal start to his ministry. He took our place under John’s baptism of repentance, even though he had no sin to repent of, because doing so was proper “to fulfill all righteousness” (Matthew 3:15). In other words, Jesus’ baptism was part of God’s plan to make us righteous, to rescue us from sin.

But Peter can see now that Jesus’ anointing set him on a path to be the Savior for all people, not a limited group. This forgiveness was not limited to people of a specific time, or place, or race. No, “Now I really am beginning to understand that God does not show favoritism, but in every nation, anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. He sent his word to the people of Israel, proclaiming the good news of peace through Jesus Christ, who is Lord of all.” Peter began to fully appreciate the scope of Jesus’ work, that God called him to forgive the sins of all people. And lest we misunderstand what Peter is saying, he is not saying that God deems people acceptable who do enough good things. The writer to the Hebrews tells us that without saving faith, it is impossible to do anything to please God (see Hebrews 11:6). So those who fear God and do what is right according to him are those who already have faith in Jesus as Savior. And this faith can and will come to people from all backgrounds and nations.

What does this mean for us? First of all it means that we are included in that people for whom Jesus died. We are not part of “scope creep” that God put a stop to. You were always in his plan. Your sins, no matter how heavily they may weigh on you, were always part of what Jesus suffered on the cross. When Peter says that Jesus came to heal “all who were oppressed by the Devil,” that’s not just the demon possessed out of whom the demons were thrown out. That’s all of us, those whom the devil torments and tempts, those whom Satan wants to be in hell to suffer as he suffers. Jesus casting out demons was a slight twitch of his divine muscles that later strong-armed Satan, that crushed that ancient serpent’s head.

But this also has an affect on us as ambassadors of our Savior and on the work we do together as a congregation. I’m going to guess that hardly anyone was shocked this morning to hear me say that Jesus is the Savior for all people, that those who have faith in Jesus as Savior will be in heaven. For many of us, this has been a truth we’ve known from little on. And even for those of us newer to the Christian faith, it’s such a core tenant of the faith that it’s probably one of the first things we learned about Jesus’ work.

But do we always behave like we know that? Do we always act like we trust that it’s true? Do we decide that the gospel isn’t for this person or that person because, “They’ll never listen to us” or “They believe in a different faith” or “They didn’t listen when I shared before so why would I waste my time?” Do we decide that that neighbor or coworker or family member or friend is beyond the scope of our Savior’s forgiveness, not because his forgiveness is limited, but because we just don’t think it will “work”? Or even more selfishly, do we make these assumptions or declarations because pushing against them might make things difficult for us? Maybe we’ll have awkward conversations? Maybe we’ll lose a friend? Maybe family relationships will be strained? Maybe I’ll feel bad?

Peter was in an incredibly uncomfortable position going to this Gentile’s home to share the gospel with him. He was so far outside of his comfort zone that he couldn’t even see that comfort zone anymore. And yet, he knew God’s direction and he went forward. We haven’t had visions from God but we have the even clearer direction of his Word—our mission is to share Jesus with everyone.

Our area gives us a lot of unique opportunities to do this. People from all over the world live here. People from places where the gospel might not have much of any presence are here in our backyard. They live next to you. They shop for groceries alongside of you. People for whom Jesus died—but do not know it—surround us, and we have the free, glorious message of the gospel to give them.

That task feels completely overwhelming and perhaps we do nothing because we don’t even know where to start. And here, too, scope creep can distract from our goals. Yes, the gospel is to go to the world, but we are not alone in this work. We work with the fellow members of our sister congregations, and more loosely with Christians across the globe who share the good news of Jesus as Savior.

My recommendation right now? Follow Peter’s example and pray. Pray that we see Jesus as the Savior for all of our personal failings, all of our sins. Pray that God may open our eyes to the opportunities that are in front of us to share Jesus with those who need to know what he’s done for them. Pray that we might have the courage and fortitude to share Jesus with them and that the Holy Spirit would give us the words to share it. Remember, even something as simple as, “Do you want to come to church with me? I’ll buy brunch afterwards” will likely connect someone to the gospel if they are here. Or forwarding an email with worship livestream or online Bible Class information will also present an opportunity for them to see and hear what God has done for them.

We won’t convert the nations by ourselves. In fact, we won’t convert anyone on our own; in the end, this is God’s work through us, not our work. Jesus, the Lord of all, will see to it that his Word goes out with power to those who need to hear it. May we be part of that work, to bring the anointed Savior of all to all! Amen.

"The Mystery Is Revealed" (Sermon on Ephesians 3:2-12) | January 8, 2023

Text: Ephesians 3:2-12

Date: January 8, 2023

Event: The Epiphany of our Lord (Observed), Year A

Ephesians 3:2–12 (EHV)

Surely you have heard of the administration of God’s grace given to me for you, 3namely, that the mystery was made known to me by revelation (as I have already written briefly). 4When you read this, you will be able to understand my insight into the mystery of Christ. 5This mystery was not made known to people in past generations as it has now been revealed by the Spirit to his holy apostles and prophets. 6This mystery is that in Christ Jesus the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and people who also share in the promise through the gospel.

7I became a servant of this gospel, in keeping with the gift of God’s grace that was given to me by the working of his power. 8To me—even though I am the very least of all the saints—was given this grace: to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ 9and to enlighten everyone about the administration of this mystery. In past ages this mystery remained hidden in God, who created all things. 10He did this so that, through the church, the multifaceted wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. 11This was done according to the eternal purpose that he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord. 12In him we can freely approach God with confidence through faith in him.

The Mystery Is Revealed

Do you like mysteries? Do you like a who-done-it book or movie? Do you like looking into things that seem to have no rational explanation? A few months ago I was watching several videos online of magicians performing tricks and illusions, and some of them were baffling. But then you can find other videos that go into some detail on how a particular trick is done and it’s like someone has pulled back the curtain to reveal the hidden workings of what is actually happening. You can see the misdirection or the slight of hand the produces something that seemed to be impossible.

That idea of the curtain being pulled back is a great picture to describe the season of Epiphany that we have entered into this week. Technically, the festival of Epiphany is on January 6, but since we do not have a worship service on that day, we’re observing the festival today. The word “epiphany” just means a “revealing,” a showing off of something previously unknown and unseen.

This whole season will focus on God pulling back the curtain and showing us more fully just who Jesus is and what he came to do. We may not learn brand new things in the coming weeks, but we will walk away with a Spirit-given renewed appreciation for all that Jesus did to save us from our sins.

But this festival of Epiphany is really the first revelation of the arrival of the Messiah to Gentiles, to those who are not Jewish. Mary and Joseph knew, Zechariah and Elizabeth and even then-unborn John the Baptist knew. The shepherds and everyone they talked to knew. Simeon and Anna in the temple knew. But what about those outside of Jerusalem and Judea and Galilee? What about those not descended from Abraham?

When the star appeared in the sky, it meant something to a group of wise men. We don’t really fully understand all the why’s and how’s of what the star was and how these men knew that it indicated the birth of the Savior of the world, but they did. In some way, God made it clear to them what this meant. And these Gentile believers wasted no time in making the trek. First to Jerusalem then to Bethlehem, we heard in our Gospel that these worshipers of the child Jesus speared no time or expense in showing their praise to their young Savior. That’s the reason this festival of Epiphany is sometimes called “Gentile Christmas,” because it’s the celebration of the Savior’s being revealed to those outside of his bloodline.

All of that is a long preface to bring us to the our Second Reading for this morning from Ephesians. The apostle Paul was a self-proclaimed “Hebrew of Hebrews” (Philippians 3:5), a Pharisee so dedicated to his Jewish faith and bloodline that when this message about Jesus of Nazareth and his followers seemed to be threatening what he held dear, he persecuted the early church violently. Thinking he was serving God, he saw to it that Christians were arrested and even approved when they were murdered.

But you know the story of Paul’s conversion. On the road to Damascus coming to arrest Christians in that city, the resurrected and ascended Jesus appeared to Paul with a cutting question, “Why are you persecuting me?” (Acts 9:4). This was an epiphany of the highest degree because in that moment it was clear that he was not serving God; Paul was warring against God.

But rather than strike down the impudent Pharisee where he stood, Jesus had other plans for him. He called him with a very special purpose: to be his messenger primarily to the Gentiles, to bring the good news of sins forgiven to all people, not just to the Jewish people. He would pick up a thread that the wise men had left for him and continue to spread the gospel to the world. This reality, that Jesus was a Savior for all, is what Paul called “the mystery of Christ.” “This mystery is that in Christ Jesus the Gentiles are fellow heirs, members of the same body, and people who also share in the promise through the gospel.”

The mystery has an epiphany, it has a revealing. God had been clear about this in the past, but not many had understood or taken it to heart. The words of the prophets went ignored or misunderstood for generations until the gospel went out in force after Jesus’ ascension. This Jesus is for all people.

But it’s bigger than that. It’s an emphasis that Jesus’ forgiveness doesn’t depend on a list of rules followed, it doesn’t depend on a family line of some importance, it doesn’t depend on anything. If God’s forgiveness is for all—even the Gentiles—then this forgiveness must be something given, not earned. This forgiveness must be a gift of God’s love for people, not something anyone did to deserve it.

Paul of all people could recognize that. A persecutor of the Savior turned into one of its chief proponents? What grace is this? I became a servant of this gospel, in keeping with the gift of God’s grace that was given to me by the working of his power. To me—even though I am the very least of all the saints—was given this grace: to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ and to enlighten everyone about the administration of this mystery.

But we don’t have to be a former persecutor to appreciate this. Each one of us can take stock of our own lives and see sin after sin in it. We see unfaithfulness after unfaithfulness. We see failure after failure. We see rebellion after rebellion against our God. We’re barely a week into this new year. Have you been perfect since the calendar flipped to 2023? No? Ok, what about just since you got up this morning? No? Ok, well, what about since this sermon started? No? Me neither.

Every bit of evidence says that God should abandon on, he should have nothing to do with us and just cast us aside. We bring nothing of value to him; we contribute nothing but wrath-inducing behavior. And so to speak of the love of God seems like a magician’s slight of hand. That can’t be real. There must be some deception. We couldn’t possibly be loved by the God whom we have so violently fought against in our thoughts words and actions.

And then God pulls back the curtain and shows us his true love—love that we did not earn and certainly do not deserve, but love that he gives to us anyway. That love was wrapped in swaddling clothes and was lying in manager. That love was adored by those who followed the star with gifts to the child King. That love is the one who lived in our place and died the death we deserved only to conquer the grave by his resurrection.

The love of God is a mystery that we will never fully be able to explain. It will never make sense. But just because it doesn’t make sense doesn’t mean it’s not real. The love of God, this eternal mystery, has been revealed to us in Jesus, and he who did not spare his own Son will surely provide you with all that you need now and for eternity. As we continue into the early hours of this new year, relish that mystery that is so real as you kneel with the shepherds and worship with the wise men. Rejoice in the results of Jesus’ work for you: This was done according to the eternal purpose that he accomplished in Christ Jesus our Lord. In him we can freely approach God with confidence through faith in him. Amen.

"God Sent His Son" (Sermon on Galatians 4:4-7) | December 24, 2022

Text: Galatians 4:4-7

Date: December 24, 2022

Event: Christmas Eve

Galatians 4:4–7 (EHV)

But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son to be born of a woman, so that he would be born under the law, 5in order to redeem those under the law, so that we would be adopted as sons. 6And because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts to shout, “Abba, Father!” 7So you are no longer a slave, but a son. And if you are a son, then you are also an heir of God through Christ.

God Sent His Son

The birth of a baby is a joyous occasion. A new life is brought into the world. A new member of the family has finally arrived. The preparation for the child’s birth has all led to this point, and parents, grandparents, other family and friends couldn’t be more excited or happy with the arrival of this day.

Tonight we are celebrating the birth of a child, and we are filled with joy. We’ve spent the last several weeks, throughout the Advent season, preparing for this child’s arrival. But tonight, we have a joy that is different than what a family experiences when their family grows by one. This is a joy that is comforting, not just in the short-term, but in the forever-term.

Jesus was born because we needed him to be born. God had a demand of us, of all people. He demanded from all of us a life of perfection. We had to keep his law flawlessly from beginning to end. But all of us started out born in sin. All of us started out at fault, and we’ve just piled on more faults since then. Whether the world would call them big or little, whether they’re public or private, the sins that we’ve committed pile up on our record. And God doesn’t care whether we have a relatively fewer sins than someone else. His expectation is perfection and anything short of that means eternal punishment.

We were in a bind that we could not get out of. No amount of good things we could do could change the fact that we’re all imperfect—so we needed someone to be perfect for us. And this is why Jesus was born. Paul said, “But when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son to be born of a woman, so that he would be born under the law, in order to redeem those under the law, so that we would be adopted as sons.”

Notice what God’s Son came to do—he was born under the law, in order to redeem those under the law. In Jesus, God took on a true human nature—became truly human—so that he could take our place under God’s demands. This is not God playacting and pretending to be obeying laws that don’t apply to him. God becomes man to fully, really take our place. Jesus lived his life perfectly for us, died on the cross to pay for our sins, and rose from the dead to assure us of his victory. The result of all of Jesus’ work is that you and I find adoption as sons.

Now, when Paul refers to sons here, he’s not being sexist and exclusionary. In those days, the sons were the heirs. And so, regardless of gender, those who trust in Jesus as Savior are heirs of God, set to inherit everything that is his.

Without Jesus’ work, we would still be lost in sin. Without Jesus we would be separated from God forever. But because of Jesus’ work in our place, we are reunited with God. In fact, we no longer run and hide from God like Adam and Eve did in the Garden of Eden. Paul says that we call God, “Abba, Father.” If we were translate that Aramaic term more directly into English, we might say that by Jesus’ work we call God, “Dada, Father.” That’s the relationship we now have with God—one that is as dear and as trusting as a very small child looking up to his or her parent.

So that’s the importance of Christmas. It’s not actually not strictly about the birth of a child, about a family growing by one. It’s about our adoption into God’s family. Because Jesus arrived, we have been brought into the family of God. Because Jesus lived a perfect life for us, that perfection has been credited to us. Because Jesus died to pay for our sins, we are forgiven of everything we’ve every done wrong. Because God adopted us as his heirs, we will spend eternity with him.

That’s the love of God. That’s the gift of God. That’s what it means that God sent his Son for you. How could we put it any better than the angels? Truly this is good news of great joy for all. Thanks be to God! Merry Christmas! Amen.

"How Do We Handle Advent Doubts?" (Sermon on Matthew 11:2-11) | December 11, 2022

Text: Matthew 11:2-11

Date: December 11, 2022

Event: The Third Sunday in Advent, Year A

Matthew 11:2-11 (EHV)

While John was in prison, he heard about the things Christ was doing. He sent two of his disciples 3to ask him, “Are you the Coming One or should we wait for someone else?”

4Jesus answered them, “Go, report to John what you hear and see: 5The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the gospel is preached to the poor. 6Blessed is the one who does not take offense at me.”

7As these two were leaving, Jesus began to talk to the crowds about John. “What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed shaken by the wind? 8What did you go out to see? A man dressed in soft clothing? No, those who wear soft clothing are in kings’ houses. 9So what did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you! And he is much more than a prophet. 10This is the one about whom it is written, ‘Look, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, who will prepare your way before you.’ 11Amen I tell you: Among those born of women there has not appeared anyone greater than John the Baptist. Yet whoever is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he.”

How Do We Handle Advent Doubts?

If you have kids in your home (or you can think back to your own youth), maybe this conversation sounds a bit familiar. The Christmas tree goes up, the lights and ornaments are all placed, and then after a few days—even if it is weeks until Christmas—the kids start looking side-eyed under the tree. If there are no presents there in a few days, the children perhaps start wondering to themselves or even out loud, “Will there be any presents this year?”

A season of preparation can be difficult to find patience. Because while on the one hand, we’ve seen that we’re in trouble if we’re not preparing, if we’re dismissing or ignoring what God has done, on the other hand, if we’re really invested in the preparation and then also don’t see things obviously progressing, it can be discouraging and frustrating. We can be impatient or even doubtful that what we are preparing for is even going to arrive or happen.

And that might be kind of the situation we find ourselves in during this Advent season. We know that, Lord-willing, December 25 will come. Our preparations for the celebration of Jesus’ first advent will take place and it will be a joyful time. But what about the main advent we’re preparing and waiting for? What about Jesus’ return? What about heaven?

In our Gospel this morning, we meet up with some familiar people—John the Baptist and Jesus—but it’s later than we’re used to seeing them mentioned together. This is well after Jesus’ baptism by John and John clearly pointing to Jesus as the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. This is well into Jesus’ ministry, at a time when John’s ministry has all but fizzled into nothing. Now, John knew and even said this would happen. He had said that Jesus must become greater while he needed to shrink away.

But I would guess that John probably didn’t see things going down like this. He’s not becoming less to eventually move into retirement. He’s not transitioning careers or moving on to other service opportunities once Jesus’ ministry takes shape. No, John is in prison. And as we know, his stay in prison will end only when Herod has him beheaded.

We don’t know what John’s state of mind was exactly, but Matthew tells us that John sent two of his disciples to ask Jesus a question. It would not be unreasonable to think that perhaps John is concerned that things are not going the way God had planned, and thus is seeking some answers. Was this really the intended final chapter for the the one to prepare the way for the Savior? It’s also very possible that John knows exactly what’s happening and is at peace, but that his disciples are losing heart at what is happening, so he sends them to hear from and see Jesus directly.

Whatever John’s motivation is, he sends his disciples with a pretty direct question: “Are you the Coming One or should we wait for someone else?” The question is point-blank: are you really the Christ, the Messiah? Or is someone else coming?

And Jesus’ answer is fascinating. He could have just said, “Yes, I am the one who was promised.” But he doesn’t do that. His answer to John and his disciples is: “The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the gospel is preached to the poor. Blessed is the one who does not take offense at me.” Everything that Jesus said were paraphrases of Old Testament promises of what signs and work would accompany the arrival of the Messiah; some of those promises resonated in our First Reading this morning from Isaiah 35. So Jesus doesn’t just point John to himself (though he certainly could have), but he points him to what had been written by inspiration about his work so many years ago.

If we go back to the child wondering if Christmas (and the presents) will ever come, we can trace a similar answer. If the child says, “Are presents going to come? Will Christmas ever arrive?” A parent’s answer of “Yes, of course,” is not exactly what Jesus said. An answer that would mirror Jesus’ answer would be, “Look around. See that we’ve put up the tree and lights and ornaments? Do you see the other decorations in the neighborhood? See the calendar’s notes about the upcoming holiday? All of these point to your answer.”

When it comes to God keeping his promises, we can feel a bit like a child anticipating Christmas. We struggle with sin—both our own and other’s sin—and we long to be free from it all in totality. We go through emotional and physical struggles and trials. Disease impacts our bodies and the well-being of those we love. All of this starts to pile up and we start to get a little bit impatient. Perhaps doubts starts to creep into our minds. And, suddenly, perhaps our prayers are a little less trusting and a little more questioning, “Are you the Coming One or should we wait for someone else?”

Jesus answers our sin-smeared doubts and impatience in the same way he answered John and his disciples. He points us to the Scriptures. What was written about him? What was promised about him? Up to the point that Jesus was speaking to John’s disciples, he was fulfilling many promises about the Messiah. But we know even further. We can compare the rest of his life and work to the rest of the promises in Scripture: Born of a virgin? Check. Born in Bethlehem? Check. Healer of diseases, demon possessions, and even death? Check. Betrayed by a dear friend? Check. Belittled and disfigured by those in authority? Check. Pierced for our transgressions? Check. Gave up his life? Check. Rose on third day? Check.

Jesus fulfilled every promise that God had made about the Messiah. No, we shouldn’t be looking for a different Savior; he has come and fulfilled the work we needed him to do. Now, what other promises has he made to us that we don’t see so clearly fulfilled because they’re a bit more esoteric or because they just haven’t happed yet? Well, it’s all the things that we just listed being doubtful or impatient about: is he really taking care of us, working all things for our good? Is he really forgiving my sins, even those things I still feel really guilty about? Is he really going to come and bring us home to himself?

Jesus could just say yes, but instead he again and again points us to the testimony about himself in his Word. Has he been proven trustworthy in the past? What reason, other than our own lack of true understanding of his plans and ways would we have for assuming that he’s changed his mind or his view or his plan? Is that ever the way God has worked? Has he ever promised and then not followed through?

Advent doubts are normal—as we long to see Jesus return and it seems like he’s a long time in coming, we can begin to wonder if this is all real and accurate. But we have God’s own testimony and track record for us in the Scriptures. Look to the history of your God’s work for you to find confidence in the promises yet to be fulfilled. Your King will come, and until the time that he does, he’s with you, guarding and protecting you. Bring your impatience, your doubts, every sin to him, and find in his arms perfect love and forgiveness that will endure through eternity. Come quickly, Lord Jesus. Amen.

"God's Hope Brings Joy" (Sermon on Romans 15:4-13) | December 4, 2022

Text: Romans 5:4-13

Date: December 4, 2022

Event: The Second Sunday in Advent, Year A

Romans 15:4-13 (EHV)

Indeed, whatever was written in the past was written for our instruction, so that, through patient endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures, we would have hope. 5And may God, the source of patient endurance and encouragement, grant that you agree with one another in accordance with Christ Jesus, 6so that with one mind, in one voice, you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

7For this reason, accept one another as Christ also accepted you to the glory of God. 8For I am saying that Christ became a servant of those who are circumcised for the sake of God’s truth, to confirm the promises made to the patriarchs. 9He also did this so that the Gentiles would glorify God for his mercy, as it is written:

For this reason I will praise you among the Gentiles,

and I will sing to your name.

10And again it says:

Rejoice, you Gentiles, with his people.

11And again:

Praise the Lord, all you Gentiles,

and let all the peoples give him praise.

12And again Isaiah says:

There will be a Root of Jesse,

and he is the one who will rise up to rule the Gentiles;

on him the Gentiles will place their hope.

13Now may the God of hope fill you with complete joy and peace as you continue to believe, so that you overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

God’s Hope Brings Joy

As I sat working on this sermon this past week, it was raining. Heavily. Rain can ruin a lot of plans. Our parking lot work has been delayed a few times by weather. A trip to the beach isn’t going to go well if it’s pouring down rain. And if you’re going to make a drive through the mountains, inclement weather is probably not what you want to see.

But, as we in California know very well, the rain is necessary. For all of its potential downsides, the upsides are far more important. And so even if the rain delays or cancels plans that we had, we rejoice to see reservoirs  filling up, land being watered, plants being able to grow, and food supplies stabilizing. The rain gives us many reasons to give thanks.

In our Second Reading for this morning, Paul speaks a length about God’s hope, that hope the he provides to us. Sometimes that hope feels like opposition to what we by nature want to pursue and what the world would tell us is important. But, as we continue our Advent preparation, we see the importance of God’s hope preparing us for Jesus’ return.

Paul begins our reading: Indeed, whatever was written in the past was written for our instruction, so that, through patient endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures, we would have hope. Paul is specifically talking about the Old Testament Scriptures in what he writes, but we can broaden this out to the whole of Scripture. Everything in God’s Word was written to teach us.

This week I was reading some sections of 2 Chronicles for my personal devotions. Over the span of two chapters, the chronicler covered two kings of Judah, the end of King Hezekiah’s reign and the whole of Hezekiah’s son, Manasseh’s reign. Hezekiah was one of the most faithful kings in all of Israel’s history. But the account showed where he stumbled and faltered at the end of his life—and then returned to God’s promises. His son, Manasseh, is always lumped in my head as one of the worst kings. And while it’s true that he devoted most of his life to pursuing sin and idolatry, a fact that I had forgotten was that at the end of his life he returned to the Lord in repentance. What a valuable piece of instruction and learning for us.

The hope of God is an everlasting and perfectly-trustworthy hope. When we speak of God’s hope, we don’t do so with the same connotation that we do when we speak of our hope. When we use the word “hope,” we usually use it in an uncertain context: “I hope the car repairs aren’t too expensive,” “I hope it doesn’t rain doesn’t negatively affect my plans,” “I hope that Christmas gift is still in stock.” For all of those, there’s the assumption that while I want one thing, the other is probably more likely.

But not so with God. We do not say, “I hope God forgives my sins,” assuming he won’t. We have what was written in the Scriptures to teach us, to bring us patient endurance and encouragement. What happened when Abraham sinned? God restored him. What happened when David sinned? God restored him. What happened when Hezekiah and Manasseh sinned? God restored them. What happened when Peter sinned? Jesus patiently, lovingly, and privately restored him. This is how God works. This forgiveness of sins, this patient love that God has for his people, is the hope that God gives to us.

God’s hope stands in opposition to the world’s joy and focus. Not because the world doesn’t like exciting news, but the world doesn’t even want to hear about the facts that would make this news exciting. The world doesn’t want to hear about sin. Truthfully, by nature, you and I don’t want to hear about sin. It would be pleasant to be deluded into the false hope that I’m fine, you’re fine, we’re all fine. But that’s not the instruction of the Scriptures; that’s not true.

So, rather than being deluded by lies, we cling to God’s truth. God is the source and the object of our hope. For as unpleasant as it is to know and be reminded that we are sinners, it’s that much more pleasant to know that we are forgiven. We take John’s direction and repent—turn away from sin, trusting in God’s forgiveness—because we know our Savior’s return is close at hand. Our Advent hope, our Christmas hope, our forever-hope is certain because it rests in the infallible and unshakeable promises and work of our God.

But we know that God’s hope may be like rain in this world. We may endure hardship because we cling to this hope. We may lose relationships and suffer harsh words and mocking. We know that our brothers and sisters in other nations suffer intense persecution—even death—for their faith in Jesus. But as we await the return of our Savior, as we prepare to celebrate his first Advent, we know that for any hardship that God’s hope may bring into our lives, it is worth it, because it is a lasting hope that brings complete joy and peace now, and especially in eternity. God’s hope is like the rainstorm that cancels plans for today but ensures adequate water and food in the long-term: temporarily it may be difficult, but eternally it is so very worth it.

So, we don’t shrink away from this hope. Rather, we magnify it in our lives. Paul says, “May God, the source of patient endurance and encouragement, grant that you agree with one another in accordance with Christ Jesus, so that with one mind, in one voice, you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. For this reason, accept one another as Christ also accepted you to the glory of God.” We strive to treat one another in a way that glorifies God. We aim to accept each other just as God accepted us. He didn’t accept us because we were perfect, but he welcomed us with forgiveness. And so we also strive to welcome one another with forgiveness.

We also strive to show this same patient love and forgiveness to those who rebel against this hope, hate this hope, even hate us for clinging to this hope. Paul made clear in the latter part of our lesson that Jesus, that God’s forgiveness, is not just for one narrow band of people. It wasn’t just for the Jewish people; it was for everyone. Today, as well, Jesus’ forgiveness isn’t just for people who love Jesus and live the right way; it’s for everyone.

This season of preparation allows us some unique opportunities to bring this forgiveness even to people who might not like it or might not care about it. You have the opportunity to invite families with young children to join us for Christmas for Kids. You have the opportunity to invite a friend or neighbor or acquaintance to our Christmas Eve or Christmas Day worship, to our New Year’s Day worship, to any event or class or moment in God’s Word. Invite them to join you, forward a live stream or online class email, whatever works the best for you and for them. Ensure that they know that this hope is not only valuable to some, but it is for them as well.

The end result of this hope is joy—joy for what is coming and eventually joy in what we experience in full in heaven. Paul concludes our reading with a joyous blessing: Now may the God of hope fill you with complete joy and peace as you continue to believe, so that you overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. May the God of hope do just as Paul prayed for you—for all of us—now and forever. Thanks be to the God of hope now and forever! Amen.

"Prepare for Advent" (Sermon on Romans 13:11-14) | November 27, 2022

Text: Romans 13:11-14

Date: November 27, 2022

Event: The First Sunday in Advent, Year A

Romans 13:11-14 (EHV)

And do this since you understand the present time. It is already the hour for you to wake up from sleep, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. 12The night is almost over, and the day is drawing near. So let us put away the deeds of darkness and put on the weapons of light. 13Let us walk decently as in the daytime, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual sin and wild living, not in strife and jealousy. 14Instead, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not give any thought to satisfying the desires of your sinful flesh.

Prepare for Advent

The time of year calls for a lot of preparation. A great deal of work likely went into getting your Thanksgiving meals ready. Maybe the Christmas decorations have gone up at your house already or you’ll be doing that shortly. We’ll be decorating the sanctuary next weekend. All sorts of plans get laid for the start of a new calendar year. Prep, prep, prep!

And that helps us this morning because that’s really what the start of a new church year is all about as well. Advent is a season of preparation; we even have “Prepare” emblazoned on one of the two banners here in the sanctuary. We are preparing for Jesus’ advent, his arrival. And during this season, our preparation focus is two-fold: we are preparing to celebrate his first advent at Christmas, but we’re also keeping our end times focus, looking forward to his second advent at the end of the world.

Our focus for the last Sunday of the church year last weekend was that of Christ the King. It was a triumphant and celebratory reminder that Jesus reigns and rules all things for us. Today’s focus to start a new church year is a slightly more somber—a reminder that we have things to do to get ready for our King’s return.

In our Gospel, Jesus reminded us that the end is certainly coming, but when it’s coming is anyone’s guess: “The Son of Man is coming at an hour when you do not expect him” (Matthew 24:44). Unlike Thanksgiving, or Christmas, or the New Year, we don’t have a date or time. We can’t schedule our life around it. We don’t have a traditional deadline. As such, because Jesus may return at any moment—even before this sermon is over (but it’s not that long, don’t worry!)—we need to find a way to be in a state of readiness. We need to be prepared. And that’s what the apostle Paul helps us with as he writes to the Romans Christians about this very topic.

Ahead of our Second Reading, Paul brought two encouragements to the Roman Christians in chapter 13 of his letter: submit to the governing authorities as God’s representatives and that Christians love one another, echoing Jesus’ command to his disciples on the night he was betrayed. And it’s with that context that our reading begins, “And do this since you understand the present time.”

We might often find ourselves looking at society around us and thinking, “Wow, the end must be near. Look at all of these ridiculous and scary things that are happening.” It is, perhaps, sobering to remember that Christians living in the first century AD would have thought the same thing. They saw their present time and thought, “Well, the end must be near.” And Paul stokes that fire with scriptural urgency: It is already the hour for you to wake up from sleep, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed.

On the one hand, since things seem to be crumbling down around us; we can rightly see the end of all things drawing near. On the other hand, because they’ve always looked like this, for our entire lives and even for the two millennia since Jesus walked the earth during his ministry, we can also get lulled into a sense of apathy and contentedness that this is always that way it will be and that nothing will ever change. This leads to the philosophy that says we should eat, drink and be merry because tomorrow we die, that nothing matters but pleasure and happiness now. If that is our approach, we will be caught completely unaware when Jesus returns, which means we will not be ready, which will end disastrously for us. So, since we don’t want that to happen, we want to prepare for Jesus’ return. Paul outlines for us how to do that.

The night is almost over, and the day is drawing near. So let us put away the deeds of darkness and put on the weapons of light. Let us walk decently as in the daytime, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual sin and wild living, not in strife and jealousy. A theme that we will see in Paul’s encouragement is that sin leads to not being prepared, while a life of good works shows that we are prepared. But that’s not because of the deeds themselves, but what they reflect about our hearts. Embracing sin means that we’ve abandoned our Savior. If we love sin, we hate God, because the two are diametrically opposed. And since we don’t want to have anything to do with hating God, Paul tells us to “put away the deeds of darkness.”

As you scan through your thoughts, words, and actions from the last week, where are there “deeds of darkness” that you are clinging to? In what places in your heart do you harbor sin? Where are your sins not just a point of weakness but a point of pride, something that you cherish? Are they in that list that Paul gives as examples, or are they different? Our Advent preparation, the preparing for the arrival of our King and Judge, requires us to purge that love of sin from our hearts.

But Advent preparation is not simply about looking good or even being well-behaved. Because on our own, we can’t do that at all. We can’t put away the sin that permeates every aspect of our heart and mind. We actually need Jesus to get us ready for his own arrival. Instead, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not give any thought to satisfying the desires of your sinful flesh.

Jesus’ first advent was the beginning of his work to be our Savior. Because these deeds of darkness clung to us so hard and fast, we needed rescue. No amount of bleach could get these insidious stains our. So Jesus’ arrival on this earth was to bring us the cleansing that we needed.

By the faith he’s given to us, then, we are no longer clothed in the filthy rags of sins, but in the perfect robes of his love and forgiveness. Perhaps Paul’s words make us think of when the apostle John saw the huge crowd of believers in heaven in his vision in Revelation. They were all around God’s throne wearing gleaming-white robes, and of them we are told: These are the ones who are coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Because of this they are in front of the throne of God, and they serve him day and night in his temple. He who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them (Revelation 7:14-15).

Notice how the people didn’t bring the soap—they washed their robes in the blood of the Lamb, in Jesus’ blood. And in what Paul says in Romans, we are not clothing ourselves with our best efforts and strength, but we are clothed with the Lord Jesus Christ. You no longer stand clothed in the sinful deeds of darkness, but clothed in the perfection of your Savior who has taken every sin away.

Advent preparation is not really about getting yourself ready—it’s about acknowledging that God is the one who prepares you. We spend time this season in repentance, with sorrow over sin and trusting in our Savior’s forgiveness. We spend time seeking to amend our ways in preparation for Jesus’ return. But we do so not because we’re worried that we’ll get in trouble if we don’t. Our motivation is still—as always—thanksgiving for what God has done for us.

So we spend time with our Savior. We cherish his Word in our lives and perhaps seek out extra time in the Word that we hadn’t before. In each mailbox in the back of church is a Advent devotional booklet from Martin Luther College that can be used in service of our Advent preparations. In each box there’s also a new issues of the Meditations quarterly devotional booklet. These can supplement our weekly Bible classes and worship so that our time in God’s Word blossoms and increases.

And here’s the amazing thing: the more we are in God’s Word, the more we are studying and enjoying what God has done for us, the more the love of sin that we have by nature starts to fall away. Slowly, God strengthens me to put away those deeds of darkness. Because the more I value God’s love, the stronger he makes my faith through Word and Sacrament, the more repulsive sin at large becomes to me. Not that any of us will ever be perfect, but God will strengthen us to say no to temptation more often and be more ready to reject Satan’s ploys.

The more I’m in God’s Word, the more prepared I am for my Savior’s return. Not because I have to be good enough for him, but because God’s Word reminds me over and over again that I am perfect because Jesus has taken all of my sins away. God’s wrath has been satisfied in Jesus’ death and that triumph is proven by his resurrection. That comfort means that while I don’t know when he is coming, I know that when he does come it will be a good thing, not a scary thing. I won’t be facing my angry Judge; I’ll be meeting my Savior who loved me enough to die for me.

In that spirit, now and always, let’s keep getting ready. Advent allows us a joyous focus on preparation for eternity, so let’s prepare together! E’en so, Lord Jesus, quickly come! Amen.

"God's Love Produces Thankful Love" (Sermon on Luke 7:36-50) | November 23, 2022

Text: Luke 7:36–50

Date: November 23, 2022

Event: Thanksgiving Eve, Set 1

Luke 7:36–50 (EHV)

A certain one of the Pharisees asked Jesus to eat with him. Jesus entered the Pharisee’s house and reclined at the table. 37Just then a sinful woman from that town learned that he was reclining in the Pharisee’s house. She brought an alabaster jar of perfume, 38stood behind him near his feet weeping, and began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she began to wipe them with her hair while also kissing his feet and anointing them with the perfume. 39When the Pharisee who had invited him saw this, he said to himself, “If this man were a prophet, he would realize who is touching him and what kind of woman she is, because she is a sinner.”

40Jesus answered him, “Simon, I have something to tell you.”

He said, “Teacher, say it.”

41“A certain moneylender had two debtors. The one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. 42When they could not pay, he forgave them both. So, which of them will love him more?”

43Simon answered, “I suppose the one who had the larger debt forgiven.”

Then he told him, “You have judged correctly.” 44Turning toward the woman, he said to Simon, “Do you see this woman? I entered your house, but you did not give me water for my feet. Yet she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair. 45You did not give me a kiss, but she, from the time I entered, has not stopped kissing my feet. 46You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with perfume. 47Therefore I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; that is why she loved so much. But the one who is forgiven little loves little.” 48Then Jesus said to her, “Your sins have been forgiven.”

49Those reclining at the table with him began to say among themselves, “Who is this who even forgives sins?”

50He said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

God’s Love Produces Thankful Love

Are there certain things that someone can do for you that inspire overwhelming joy? Maybe the kids pick up their rooms without being asked. Maybe someone could make your favorite meal or invite you over to watch the game. Maybe someone can sit and talk with you during a difficult time. We each have different things that really resonate for us, and probably even have different things at different times.

But while there are differences in what brings up the joy in our hearts, probably the desire to express that joy is universal. You want to make clear how much you appreciate what that person has done for you, how meaningful it was, or how special they are to you. Love shown to you produces a desire to show thankful love.

And we have an example of that tonight in our Gospel. We meet up with Jesus in the middle of his ministry. He’s been teaching the crowds and the Pharisees have been in there, listening, trying to figure out what to make of Jesus. To that end, one of them named Simon invites Jesus to his home for a meal. As is made clear quickly, this is not a believer rejoicing in God’s promised Messiah. This is not a repentant person showing thankful love to his God. This is someone who is curious but also doubtful about who Jesus is and wants some more one-on-one time with him to try to figure him out.

We’re told that in the midst of the meal, a “sinful woman” appeared at the dinner. We don’t know who she was, and while tradition often tries to label this woman as one of the named followers of Jesus, the Holy Spirit doesn’t give us enough information to identify her. But we have plenty of information to understand her heart and mind. Just then a sinful woman from that town learned that he was reclining in the Pharisee’s house. She brought an alabaster jar of perfume, stood behind him near his feet weeping, and began to wet his feet with her tears. Then she began to wipe them with her hair while also kissing his feet and anointing them with the perfume. She cleans his feet with her tears and hair and anoints them with an expensive perfume.

The woman’s tears show us something that Jesus will confirm in just a moment. This “sinful” woman (perhaps she was a prostitute by profession or had been wrapped up in some other public sin) is not proud and boastful about her sin. Sorrow over sin, which we often call contrition, fills her heart. But notice how she does not despair—rather she comes to the one whom she knows and believes forgives sins. Her tears might rightly be seen as sorrowful and joyful at the same time. In Jesus, this woman has found forgiveness and restoration to God. Jesus says that this is the reason for her loving actions at that meal: Therefore I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven; that is why she loved so much.

God’s loving forgiveness produces this thankful love. One of Simon’s issues was that he didn’t feel that he had many (or even any) sins to forgive. He was confident in his righteousness. He felt he could stand before God on his own. The woman, though, had no such delusions. She knew what Simon denied—that she was a sinner deserving of God’s wrath. She valued Jesus’ forgiveness because she knew just how much she had to forgive.

We would love to sit here this evening and identify with the woman, right? “If I had been there, I’d have been weeping in thankful joy along with her!” we might say. But would we? How often does the pharisaical comparative bug bite us? How often do we look at the people who have very public, flagrant sins in their lives and think, “Well, at least I know better than that person. At least I’m not doing those things”?

Let’s not follow Simon’s lead here, though the sinful nature in each of us constantly wants to justify ourselves. If we spend any amount of time comparing ourselves to other people in a way that would say, “Well, my standing with God is secure because I’m not like this person,” we’ve radically misunderstood ourselves and God.

Each of us carries a burden of sin. For some of us, that sin is public, but for others, it’s much more private, perhaps known only to ourselves and God. But the reality is, God doesn’t measure quantity. God’s demands are perfection or nothing. So the person who has one sin and the person who has a billion sins are equal in God’s eyes: each are “sinners.” And neither person can do anything to get rid of one part of the this debt.

So Jesus comes. God himself takes on our human nature to live the flawless life that God demanded, but to do so in our place. Jesus’ message to the people was one of forgiveness of sins in himself. At the very end of Jesus’ ministry, Mary from Bethany, Martha’s and Lazarus’ sister, will do something similar for Jesus. In joy she will anoint him with costly perfume to, as Jesus says, prepare him for his burial. Mary looked ahead to what Jesus was going to do. Not only living that flawless life to credit to her, but also that he would die to pay her debt. This woman at Simon’s meal was looking ahead to the same assurance.

Jesus has addressed our burden of sin as well. Public, private, glaring, or secret, Jesus takes all of that sin on himself. He takes it off of your shoulders and mine and puts it on his. He dies to pay for our hell, and his perfect life is given to us. We can gush joyful tears because we have been forgiven. And the Holy Spirit gives us the faith to trust and cling to Jesus as our Savior. Through that faith we benefit from what Jesus has done, so that Jesus can say to you and me what he said to the woman, “Your faith has saved you. Go in peace.”

So, how do you respond to sacrificial love like this? How do you respond to Jesus’ forgiveness? Well, in part we’re doing it right now. Songs and prayers of praise, time in his Word, all of it is sitting at Jesus feet. Our praise ascribes him honor in the same way that the woman’s perfume did. We thank him by… thanking him.

But God also gives us the opportunity to thank him by being generous to others. How can you be generous to your family to show your love for them and also thank Jesus at the same time? How can you be generous to strangers in need by showing empathy for them and also thanking Jesus at the same time? How can you be generous to those who need to hear the gospel message of this forgiveness and also thank Jesus at the same time?

We show thankful love to God by being generous to individuals who need our support. We show thankful love to God by supporting a charity that can do more work than you and I can as individuals. We show thankful love to God by supporting our congregation with time and resources so that all of us here can be reminded of this good news about Jesus, and that those who don’t know this message yet may hear of their Savior’s eternal love. Our worship and praise, our actions and attitudes, all of it is wrapped up in the love of God shown to us in Jesus. These are all ways that we can tell Jesus, perhaps through tears, “Thank you.”

So, my dear sisters and brothers, find your motivation to be thankful in Jesus. Find your opportunity to be thankful in serving him and others in their needs. Find your opportunity to rejoice always in the Lord not just on a holiday but always, for you have been forgiven much—all—and heaven stands waiting for you. Thank you, dear Jesus! Amen!

"See the Glory through the Haze" (Sermon on Luke 21:5-19) | November 13, 2022

Text: Luke 21:5–19

Date: November 13, 2022

Event: Proper 28, Year C

Luke 21:5–19 (EHV)

As some were talking about the temple, how it was decorated with beautiful stones and offerings, Jesus said, 6“These things that you see here—the days will come when there will not be one stone left on another—every one will be thrown down.”

7They asked him, “Teacher, when will these things happen? And what is the sign that these things are about to happen?”

8He said, “Watch out so that you are not deceived! For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time is near.’ Do not follow them. 9Whenever you hear of wars and revolutions, do not be terrified, for these things must happen first, but the end will not be right then.”

10Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. 11There will be great earthquakes, famines, and plagues in various places. There will be horrifying sights and great signs from heaven. 12But before all these things, they will lay their hands on you and will persecute you, handing you over to synagogues and prisons, bringing you before kings and governors for my name’s sake. 13It will turn out to be your opportunity to testify. 14So make up your minds not to prepare beforehand how to defend yourselves, 15for I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to withstand or contradict. 16You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends. They will put some of you to death. 17You will be hated by all people for my name’s sake. 18But not a hair of your head will perish. 19By patient endurance you will gain your lives.”

See the Glory through the Haze

Call me crazy, but I really like gloomy, foggy days. When it’s a touch damp and cold and you’re wondering if the sun is even out. Good days to drink something warm and put on your favorite sweatshirt and maybe get some work done or just curl up with something fun you’d like to do. And given the number of days we have marine layer coming in here in Belmont, this seems like a pretty good place to be.

But there are times when the fog isn’t so great. Like taking the carpool of kids to school in the morning and the fog is thick on the freeway, making it at best slow and at worst kind of dangerous because of poor visibility. When you have to go through the haze and make progress in it, that’s when it becomes a real problem.

Last week we celebrated the festival of All Saints’ Day, the certain triumph that we have in Jesus. Today’s focus is still looking ahead, but it’s more focused on our life here leading to the Last Day. Jesus says that in many ways this life will be like trying to travel through the fog. It’s going to be uncomfortable and even dangerous. But by his grace, we will get beyond the haze of this sinful world and be with him in eternal life.

During holy week, Jesus and his disciples were walking through the temple courts in Jerusalem and those around Jesus were marveling at what was around them. The beauty of everything was overwhelming. The temple had been recently refurbished, and the disciples were amazed. But Jesus didn’t do much marveling. He’s very stark: “These things that you see here—the days will come when there will not be one stone left on another—every one will be thrown down.” Jesus’ statement was proven true just a few decades later when Rome would march on Jerusalem and destroy much of the city, including the temple. It has never been rebuilt.

What is Jesus’ point in this harsh statement? Don’t get too attached to the world around you. It will not last. It will not endure. The things of this life are temporary—even the good and God-pleasing things like the temple was. Everything has an expiration date.

That’s a challenge in this life, right? The danger of driving in the fog is that you can’t see far in front of you. So while you’re nervous about what may be looming ahead of you, you’re spending all of your time focused on where you can see, limited as it may be. It’s easy to adopt that approach in our life, to ignore or put off the coming glory of eternity. We can be deluded by our fogged-in vision and think that what’s around us is the be-all, end-all of existence. But Jesus reminds us that it’s all temporary, it will all pass away. Nothing endures, and we need to stay focused on what is eternally coming, not only on what is right in front of us.

But what about between now and then? While we’re living in this end time fog, we still have responsibilities. We still have family to care for, a congregation to support, people to share the gospel with. We still have tasks to complete and promises to keep. We still need to do our best in whatever vocations we are serving in. We still have love to show and empathy to be poured out. So we will tend to those tasks. But what will it be like to do those things in the haze of this life?

It would be tempting for us to think that, as Christians, life should be pretty smooth sailing. Sure, it’s foggy, but out footings will be safe, right? We should be able to have the confidence that because God loves us, everything should be great. Life should be good, and then the end will come, right? Well, what does Jesus say? “Watch out so that you are not deceived! For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time is near.’ Do not follow them. Whenever you hear of wars and revolutions, do not be terrified, for these things must happen first, but the end will not be right then… Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines, and plagues in various places. There will be horrifying sights and great signs from heaven. But before all these things, they will lay their hands on you and will persecute you, handing you over to synagogues and prisons, bringing you before kings and governors for my name’s sake… You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends. They will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all people for my name’s sake.

This does not sound good. There’s a lot to unpack here, so let’s break it down.

First, Jesus says that there will be spiritual, religious leaders that will come teaching messages that are off-kilter and contrary to Scripture. False teachers have come and will come preaching messages that we should just focus on what is here in this life because, they say, God just wants us to be happy. Others teach different messages than we’ve been given, like we heard the Judaizers teach to the Galatians a couple of weeks ago. These false teachers may distort Jesus’ words or lead us to put trust in our own work and convictions rather than in what God has done for us. “Watch out so that you are not deceived! For many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he,’ and ‘The time is near.’ Do not follow them.”

But it’s not just false teachers that we have to deal with in this hazy life. Whenever you hear of wars and revolutions, do not be terrified, for these things must happen first, but the end will not be right then… Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be great earthquakes, famines, and plagues in various places. There will be horrifying sights and great signs from heaven. Kind of sounds like the last couple of years, doesn’t it? It also kind of sounds like the time of World War II, or World War I, or the bubonic plague, or almost every moment in every era from the time Jesus spoke these words until now.

What’s the take away? Things are not going to get better. We can’t make the fog go away. No election or politician can change the track this world is on. No viewpoint or conviction can stop this life from being clouded from God’s truths because of sin. Again, we do well to serve in our roles that we’ve been given faithfully and honestly. But whether we are nurturing our children or voting in an election, we have to recognize that we cannot change the impact sin has on the world around us, on the people we love, and on our own hearts. We cannot lift this haze.

Only Jesus can do that. And even then, the forgiveness is ours, the inheritance of heaven is assured, but we don’t have it in full right now. There is no doubt that it is coming, but we are looking ahead. There will be no paradise on earth. We can see the glory in part, but it’s only like looking for the bright spot on the other side of the fog. Even the sun may be clouded out, but that doesn’t mean it’s gone missing. So too, the promises of God of forgiveness and eternal life stand unmoved, but they’re are not our full experience yet. And being stuck in the pea soup of this like can be deeply, deeply unpleasant.

We’re looking ahead to the glory that is coming. But, Jesus says, that looking ahead to the future glory brings its own problems. Being a Christian in this world will cause its own issues: But before all these things, they will lay their hands on you and will persecute you, handing you over to synagogues and prisons, bringing you before kings and governors for my name’s sake. It will turn out to be your opportunity to testify. So make up your minds not to prepare beforehand how to defend yourselves, for I will give you words and wisdom that none of your adversaries will be able to withstand or contradict. You will be betrayed even by parents, brothers, relatives, and friends. They will put some of you to death. You will be hated by all people for my name’s sake.

Did you notice what Jesus did say and what he didn’t say here? You will face persecution and trouble because of your faith in Jesus. Being a Christian in this world will naturally bring these hardships. But did Jesus say, “Take a stand! Fight for yourself! Defend your rights to your faith!”? No. Did he say we should be loudmouthed, arrogant, and obnoxious, hoping to draw some of these hardships on ourselves, to seek after persecution and suffering? No.

He said you will suffer these things, you may even die. But this suffering will not be the chance to fight, it will not be the chance to cry foul and play the victim, it will be the opportunity to testify. Persecution is not an opportunity to show how tough and strong we are. Persecution is an opportunity to share the love of Jesus with people who clearly don’t know it or understand it. So when you are mocked—or much worse—for your faith, that’s an evangelism opportunity. There’s an opportunity to put into practice what Jesus commanded, to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. And you do not need to worry about what to say in that moment. Your time in God’s Word prepares you; Jesus himself promises to give you the words and wisdom you need to witness to the truth lovingly, with gentleness and respect. Because it’s never about defending yourself—it’s about sharing the love of God with others. It’s about bringing the light of the coming glory to others who are lost in this haze.

And that’s where we need to return, because we could leave a section of Scripture like this feeling really, really down. Jesus is being real with us. He’s being honest about what’s going to happen. But none of this, not one nasty comment, not one natural disaster, not one financial difficulty will ever change what God has done for you. We’ve said a couple of times that all of this has happened, is happening, and will happen because of sin. But that sin is, of course, what Jesus came to solve.

And solve it he did. The reason we look through the haze to glory that is approaching is because of Jesus’ work on our behalf. Without Jesus, all the bad things that he describes here would be the best part of our lives; hell will be so much worse than anything bad we can endure here. But with Jesus, because he took all sin on himself at the cross, that means that we’re not stumbling our way through this haze and falling into a pit. It means we walk this life hand-in-hand with our Savior. He leads us through this life, through good days and difficult days, through joy and sorrow, all the way through this hazy, perishing world to the eternal life he has prepared for us.

Don’t lose track of how he ended our reading: You will be hated by all people for my name’s sake. But not a hair of your head will perish. By patient endurance you will gain your lives.” Focus in on that word perish, because this is not the same as die. Death may speak of physical separation, the end of one’s life. Our hair, just like the rest of us, will surely die unless Jesus returns before then. But not a hair on your head will perish. “Perish” here means eternal death. So great is the love and victory of your Savior that not even the most fragile part of your body will be lost; not a part of you will see hell even for a moment. For as bad as things are here in the haze, by God’s grace you will reach the coming glory unscathed because Jesus has forgiven every one of your sins.

And so, my brothers and sisters, lift up your heads. In joy and thanksgiving to God for his forgiveness, we will continue to do our best in every aspect of life. But don’t let the haze bring you down. Don’t let it distract from the glory that is coming. And don’t forget that every step we take through this fog, Jesus is guiding and leading us with his forgiving love. Come quickly, Lord Jesus! Amen.

"Does Jesus Have Value for You?" (Sermon on Galatians 5:1-6) | October 30, 2022

Text: Galatians 5:1–6

Date: October 30, 2022

Event: Reformation Sunday, Year C

Galatians 5:1–6 (EHV)

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not allow anyone to put the yoke of slavery on you again. 2Look, I, Paul, tell you that if you allow yourselves to be circumcised, Christ will be of no benefit to you. 3I testify again to every man who allows himself to be circumcised that he is obligated to do the whole law. 4You who are trying to be declared righteous by the law are completely separated from Christ. You have fallen from grace.

5Indeed, through the Spirit, we by faith are eagerly waiting for the sure hope of righteousness. 6For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision matters. Rather, it is faith working through love that matters.

Does Jesus have Value for You?

I’ve had the same conversation more times than I can count. Mostly here in California, but it even happened a couple of times while we were in South Dakota. And it always goes the same. I meet someone new—maybe a barber or a clerk at the post office or someone waiting to visit a loved one in a hospital or care facility—and we get to talking. Nothing major, mostly small talk. But in the course of that conversation it comes up that I’m the pastor of a Lutheran church. And the same question comes so reliably that I can almost finish the sentence for the other person: “Oh, Lutheran? Is that like Christian?”

For those of us who have been Lutheran for a long time, the question seems silly given the confessional Lutheran church’s narrow, scriptural focus on Jesus as Savior. But it makes sense that people would wonder or be curious. Especially around here, the only exposure they may have had to anything “Lutheran” might be driving by a church with that word on its sign. So it’s a good question, and one which usually leads to very quick sharing of the gospel message.

Being Christian (that is, believing in Jesus as Savior) is far more important that being Lutheran. But the reality is that, perhaps especially on a day like Reformation Day, we can get a little out in front of our skis with misplaced priorities of what is truly important. And in our Second Reading for this morning, we’ll see in what Paul writes why reformation is not just for a church at a given time, but that reformation is for our hearts all the time, because the things that pull us away from Jesus are more subtle and insidious than we would like to believe.

The letter to the Christians living in region of Galatia is likely the earliest of Paul’s letters, probably written sometime in the late 40s AD. Paul had started many of the churches in that region during his first missionary journey. But, after he had been there and then moved on, some other teachers came into the region and started teaching a distorted gospel which Paul says in the opening of this letter was really not another gospel at all (Galatians 1:7). To fully understand what Paul is talking about in our reading from chapter 5, we need to understand the root problem these Christians were dealing with.

Teachers came into this region of Galatia whom have come to be known as “Judaizers.” Their message was pretty simple. They taught that Jesus was great and necessary, but in order to actually benefit from what Jesus did for you, you had to keep the Old Testament laws as well. This is the reason that circumcision looms so large in our reading, because these congregations would have been predominately gentiles who would not have had the custom of circumcision. But now they’re being taught that in order to be saved, you must follow this law that requires circumcision. And at this, Paul is furious. In his introduction to the letter he said: If we or an angel from heaven would preach any gospel other than the one we preached to you—a curse on him! As we have said before, so I now say again: If anyone preaches to you any gospel other than the one you received—a curse on him! (Galatians 1:8-9).

What was the gospel, the good news, that Paul had preached to the Galatians originally? That Jesus is the Savior. Now, of course, that sounds reductive, but it’s true. Jesus it the Savior—full stop. That was Paul’s message to the Galatians. When Jesus lived his life, he did so perfectly, but he also did it in our place. When Jesus died on the cross, there all of my sins and your sins were laid on him. He suffered the hell that we deserved to release us from our sins. We have freedom from sin because Jesus lived, died, and rose from the dead. Jesus’ work has set us free from any punishment that we deserved because Jesus did it all for us.

This work of Jesus becomes ours through faith that God gives. God grants us faith, trust, to hold fast to the truth that Jesus died for us. Notice we don’t earn this or pay anything for it. All of it is a gift from God. Paul explained to the Galatians: We know that a person is not justified [that is, declared not guilty or forgiven] by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ. So we also believed in Christ Jesus that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the law, because no one will be justified by the works of the law (Galatians 2:16).

So this is the issue that Paul has with what these false teachers are saying. They were teaching that Jesus alone was not enough. You needed to do something to be worthy of his forgiveness. You needed to dedicate yourself to him by outward works so that you can earn a spot in this family. That teaching undermines the whole of what Jesus did! We know we can’t save ourselves, but if we start following the thinking that we need to do a little bit of something to be worthy of Jesus, then we are trying to do things to save ourselves. Doing that is what Paul describes in our reading as allow[ing] [some]one to put the yoke of slavery on you again.

And while the Judaizers’ focus may have been primarily on circumcision, Paul is clear that if you want to start doing something to earn your forgiveness, you cannot pick and choose which things to do and follow. He said, “I testify again to every man who allows himself to be circumcised that he is obligated to do the whole law.” And if you then have to follow the whole law to be saved, well then, Jesus becomes utterly worthless: if you allow yourselves to be circumcised, Christ will be of no benefit to you.

That is not the path to heaven. We cannot earn our way, even by a minuscule percentage, because God demands perfection. And if we are anything short of perfect, we doom ourselves to hell. And we are all far, far from perfect. Trying to be saved by the work we do means Jesus has no value to us anymore.

But this mindset was not unique to these false teachers in region of Galatia at the time of Paul. In fact throughout all of human history, people’s thoughts and hearts have assumed that they need to do something to be right with God. Nearly every religion in the world is based on it. Our legal system is based on it (do something wrong? Do something good or uncomfortable to make up for it). Even our human relationships are, at times, based on it. How many times have you done something that hurt someone in some way and then you scrambled to try to figure out what to do to make it up to that person?

So it’s no surprise that at the time of the Reformation, the Roman Catholic Church had fallen head-over-heels in love with this teaching. Like the Judaizers, Rome taught that Jesus had a great deal of value, but he only did so much. You needed to add your works to what Jesus did if you hoped to be saved. Maybe that meant attending masses, special prayers, or the thing that finally woke Martin Luther up to this distortion, the selling of indulgences. Indulgences were pieces of paper that when purchased supposedly forgave the sins of the purchaser or the one for whom they were purchased. What a flagrant offense to the truth of Jesus’ forgiveness!

Not much has changed. Rome’s teachings today have not really changed. Much of American Christendom focuses you on yourself for comfort—how strong your faith is, how much you believe, how emotional you are when you consider your faith. In fact, much of Christianity today seems to focus people on everything possible except Jesus. Other religions use Jesus’ name but only preach a message of works. In all of these systems, despite what lip service they may give to Jesus, he becomes completely worthless when my good works are trying to be factored into the equation. I can’t put it any more strongly or clearly than Paul did: You who are trying to be declared righteous by the law are completely separated from Christ. You have fallen from grace.

And it’s not just those people over there. It’s not just people in other churches. On a day like Reformation Day perhaps we gloat a little bit. “Those foolish teachers in those other churches teach the wrong thing. But I’m Lutheran! I know the truth!” And in that moment, don’t we also cross the line? Don’t we also put our hope in something other than Jesus? Aren’t we putting our hope in our “Lutheraness” rather than Jesus? How quickly and insidiously this happens. How craftily Satan would lead us to put our confidence in ourselves rather than where it belongs—only with God.

Again, the Reformation was not just something that was needed at one time and place. We recognize that our hearts, daily, hourly need to be reformed by God’s Word to refocus us not on ourselves but again on Jesus and on Jesus alone! We need God to remind us that Jesus not only has value, but he is the only thing of value eternally. Who cares about your denominational ties or your history? If Jesus isn’t valued above all else, everything else is worthless.

In our Gospel, Jesus reminded us that if he sets us free than we are truly free. And that’s what he did. No matter what we’ve done or what misguided notions we’ve had, Jesus came to be our Savior—to completely free us from sin, death, and hell. He did that by living a flawless, perfect life under God’s law in our place and crediting that life to us. He did that by completely taking all of our sins on himself and paying their horrific price when he died on the cross. He proved all of this by rising from the dead to show that it worked. We are free from sin because Jesus has conquered it completely.

So the value that Jesus has is not one of mere helper. He’s not just a guide for our path in this life. He doesn’t just embolden us to be better. He frees us from sin completely, without our intervention at all. Jesus is our Savior and there is no other.

What is the role of good works then? Paul said, “For in Christ Jesus neither circumcision nor uncircumcision matters. Rather, it is faith working through love that matters.” It might have been tempting for the Galatian Christians who rejected this false teaching to start feeling pretty good about themselves. “Well, I didn’t let myself get circumcised, therefore I am better.” And, again, in that moment they have the exact same problem as those who tried to follow the law to be saved had. They looked at something they did or didn’t do as reason for confidence before God. So Paul is clear the it doesn’t matter if you’re circumcised or not. What matters is faith working through love.

Faith is trust in the promises of God. Faith that trusts that Jesus is the Savior can’t help but express itself. The expression of that faith is what we would call good works. But the motivation behind them is different than what the Judaizers were teaching. These are not good works done trying to earn God’s love; these are good words done because God has already loved us. These are not works done trying to pay off our sins; these are works done because Jesus has already paid that debt we owed. We do good works to thank God, not to earn anything with him.

In the end, we shouldn’t really care if people understand what a “Lutheran” is, although it is a heritage that many of us cherish. It doesn’t matter if we or someone else are members of a church called “Lutheran.” What matters is that people know who Jesus is because he is the one who has completely and freely set us free from sin by his life, death, and resurrection for us. He broke the yoke that sin had placed on us and freed us to be with him forever in heaven. Trying to add our work to his work devalues him completely. But valuing Jesus means trusting in him completely for the forgiveness of our sins and the certainty of eternal life with him.

So on this Reformation Day, let’s not recommit ourselves to simply being “Lutheran.” Let’s recommit ourselves to the gospel message that makes being Lutheran valuable at all. Is Lutheran equivalent to Christian? By Paul’s words, most certainly yes. Let’s commit ourselves to valuing Jesus, not our own works. Let’s commit ourselves to sharing Jesus with those who don’t know him yet. Let’s commit ourselves to resting in Jesus’ freedom that he freely gives, and thanking him for that free gift today and always. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Love God, Not the World" (Sermon on 1 John 2:15-17) | October 23, 2022

Text: 1 John 2:15–17

Date: October 23, 2022

Event: Proper 25, Year C

1 John 2:15–17 (EHV)

Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 16For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, boasting about material possessions—is not from the Father but from the world. 17The world and its desires pass away, but the one who does the will of God remains forever.

Love God, Not the World

What does it mean to love someone or something? People can play pretty fast and loose with that term, but in general, loving something to value it highly. In human relationships, if we take a God-like view of love, it would mean sacrificing things for them to support and equip them. When it comes to things, it might mean valuing something of that category more than other things: you might, for instance, like pie but love ice cream.

In our Second Reading for this morning, the apostle John gives us direction on who and what we should love in our lives. And this goes well beyond the things that we say we love, which may be a flippant, thoughtless expression. John urges us to really consider our hearts. What do we truly love and value? And is our value and love in the correct place?

John is probably the last of the original twelve disciple to still be alive. He’s writing at the end of the first century, probably around 90 AD or so. John is writing as likely the last-living eyewitness of the life and work of Jesus, and he’s writing to encourage a new generation of Christians. The church had been undergoing a transition for a a number of decades as the apostles handed off the teachings of the church to those who had believed because they heard the gospel through those apostles. A few weeks ago we heard from Peter who would die 20 to 30 years before John, but who wrote to encourage the people in the truth that he taught. Paul wrote a similar “passing-the-baton” letter to Pastor Timothy ahead of his death.

Now John is trying to focus his original readers, likely a broad swath of Christians, from his island of exile. While John was not executed, he was sent to the island of Patmos off the eastern coast of modern-day Turkey (as of this summer known as Türkiye [tur-ke’yeah]) because he shared the message of Jesus. We know for certain that John was on Patmos when he received and wrote the great Revelation that ends the New Testament; it’s very possible that he wrote his Gospel and his three letters while on that island as well.

At the start of chapter 2 of his letter, John had shared this comfort: My children, I write these things to you so that you will not sin. If anyone does sin, we have an Advocate before the Father: Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the whole world (1 John 2:1-2). John is intimately focused on the life of Christians, what it should look like, and what spirit should flow through it and motivate it. But John never loses track of the reason for that life: Jesus as the sacrifice for all sin.

It’s easy to get wrapped up in basic truths of right and wrong. We’re generally programmed to want rules to follow. But it’s much more difficult for us to keep track of the why we should do what we’re doing.

Even the very theme of this sermon, “Love God, Not the World” is able to be applied without the right motivation. “Right, I should love God because otherwise he’ll be mad at me. I shouldn’t love the world because I’ll be in trouble.”

What is the motivation that John gives us for loving God instead of the things in the world? Jesus! Look at how he loves you. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Jesus made atonement for us, that is, he offered himself to cover over our sins and put us “at one” with God again. Though sin had separated us from God, Jesus solved that problem. He restored us to children in God’s family yet again. Though we had been been destined for hell, Jesus’ death in our place saved us and made us right with God!

And that’s the motivation for serving God. Not because it’s right, not because we’ll be in trouble if we don’t, but because he has so loved us, how can we do anything else? How could we let sin reign in us? How could we possibly not devote every breath, every moment to the one who was crucified, died, buried, and rose from the dead on the third day? How could we ever do anything wrong ever again?

How can we not?

I look at my life and I am disgusted. Here I am, a redeemed and forgiven child of God, and how do I behave? Where are the thoughts of my heart? Here I am, a called servant of Christ, called to be your pastor and serve you with God’s Word, and what is my attitude? Where does my energy go? Here I am, called by God to be husband and father, devoted to my family and dedicated to their well-being—is there ever a night that I can lay my head on the pillow and think, “Finally, today, I didn’t fall flat on my face in those responsibilities?”

Maybe you share those thoughts. I know we share the same struggle with sin because this is what it means to be a human being in this world. Martin Luther called Christians at the same time both saint and sinner, and how true that is. I know my Savior, you know heaven stands waiting for you, and yet how do we respond?

And John points us to a huge place that causes these problems for us. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For everything in the world—the lust of the flesh, the desire of the eyes, boasting about material possessions—is not from the Father but from the world. How much time did you spend thinking about eternal life this week? How much time did you spend being grateful for your forgiveness? Or did the things around you crowd it out this week? Were the pressures at home or work so much that God’s work drifted from your mind? Were you so enamored with a sporting event, or TV show, or any other form of entertainment that is pushed thoughts of what God had done away from you and took that priority place in your life? Does a dedication to earthly wealth and treasures and toys make it difficult to focus on what lies beyond this life?

You saw the serious distraction that the things in the world was to the ruler Jesus spoke to in our Gospel. He felt he had flawlessly kept God’s law from beginning to end. Of course, that was a delusion of his own making, but Jesus went along with it. “Oh, you’ve kept all the laws. Ok, great. Well, then, there’s only one more thing to do: give away all of your stuff and then you will be welcomed into heaven.” Of course, Jesus isn’t saying that we cannot have possessions and be saved. What he was showing this man was that he actually wasn’t perfect as he thought—he loved the things in the world more than he loved God, or perhaps even more accurately, he love the things in the world instead of God, because Jesus told us last month that no one can serve two masters (Luke 16:13).

Loving God will likely mean sacrifice of the things of the world. We can’t be wholly dedicated to the fun and pleasure of life here and wholly dedicated to God. But we need God’s help understanding what our priorities should be. Do you more carefully consider the purchase of a home or lunch? Hopefully the home, right? Because it will, ideally, last for a really long time. Where as lunch, if you bought or made something bad, well, you’ll have another meal in just a few hours. It is passing and less important that the place you’ll live for several decades.

John reminds us: The world and its desires pass away, but the one who does the will of God remains forever. This life is temporary. The treasures and joys of this life are temporary. The stress and the struggles of this life are temporary. Don’t fall in the love with the fun things in this life. Don’t fall in love with fixing problems here.

That’s not to say you can’t enjoy this life or shouldn’t work to fix issues you see around you, but don’t let these things consume you wholly because they are not worth it. To give up eternity because you were so focused on the here and now is to lose your house because you were so focused on lunch—only much, much worse.

And lest we lose track of what we wanted to stay focused on, John reminds us: the one who does the will of God remains forever. But be careful—John is not espousing a works-righteousness here. He’s building off of what Jesus himself had said, as John recorded in his Gospel: “This is the work of God: that you believe in the one he sent” (John 6:29). Doing the will, the work, of God is not accomplishing some outward act. The work and will of God is trusting in Jesus as Savior.

And so that’s the reason that one doing the will of God remains forever, because that person is focused not on earthly blessings, but on eternal blessings. He’s focused not on the gifts for this life, but the gift of everlasting life. He’s focused not on earthly wealth, but on the treasure of the forgiveness of sins we have in Jesus.

Does that mean we are lacking anything? Perhaps from the viewpoint of the world, but we don’t really care about the world’s view because the world knows nothing of God’s love and forgiveness. We are not lacking for anything eternally. In the short term, we may not have everything we want or everything we dream about, but we know that God has promised daily bread to take care of our needs. But at God’s direction, we know that a life lived in thanksgiving to him is far more fulfilling than one in which we get all of the toys we want and all of our desires met.

And so, as we continue the path of this life, keep the focus on Jesus and what he’s done for you for eternity. Don’t let the shiny and the tempting of this life prevent you for holding your Savior up as prime importance. In the next few weeks, we’ll focus on the difficulty and joy of standing up for these truths as we live in these end times. May God keep us focused and faithful to him now and until the day he brings us home to himself. Amen.

"Faith Trusts and Thanks" (Sermon on Luke 17:11-19) | October 9, 2022

Text: Luke 17:11-19
Date: October 9, 2022
Event: Proper 23, Year C

Luke 17:11-19 (EHV)

On another occasion, as Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem, he was passing along the border between Samaria and Galilee. 12When he entered a certain village, ten men with leprosy met him. Standing at a distance, 13they called out loudly, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!”

14When he saw them, he said, “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” As they went away they were cleansed.

15One of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice. 16He fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, thanking him. And he was a Samaritan. 17Jesus responded, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine? 18Was no one found to return and give glory to God except this foreigner?” 19Then he said to him, “Get up and go your way. Your faith has saved you.”

Faith Trusts and Thanks

As I continue to work through the call to Canada, I ran into a interesting puzzle this week: a reminder from the circuit pastor in Alberta that tomorrow is Canadian Thanksgiving, and that would obviously affect my ability to get in touch with people and have phone conversations with them.

And then, after Bible Class was done on Tuesday morning, we were briefly talking about plans for church here in Belmont for the coming months. And in that moment, I felt my stomach bottom out as I thought how close the United States Thanksgiving is. I mean, it’s not close, but it’s just a touch over a month away. And, of course, that means we’re just a touch over two months away from Christmas. Perhaps you can empathize that I stated spiraling for a moment.

But, let’s not jump ahead to Christmas. Let’s focus on Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is always a little bit of a weird holiday to me, mostly because of what it has turned into. It always seems like the gateway for Christmas. In the past, Black Friday sales often encouraged people to line up at stores even on Thanksgiving Day to get the best deals when the stores open. I’m not really sure if that happens as much anymore with as prevalent as online shopping is and as system-changing as COVID has been, but at best it feels like Thanksgiving has been relegated to the gatekeeper of the Christmas season, and perhaps at worst Thanksgiving has actually been changed into the opposite of what it was designed to be: instead of focusing on thanks, it focuses us on discontent and wanting more and more and more things.

We could spend all day talking about the frustrating state of the Thanksgiving holiday, but that might miss our point a bit. Isn’t it just a touch strange or sad that we have need to have a holiday set aside for giving thanks in the first place? Isn’t that something we should be doing even without a day off of work and a plate full of mashed potatoes? Why is showing thanks so difficult for people in this country? Or this continent?

Well, in our Gospel for this morning, we’re reminded that this is not a uniquely North American problem. Thanksgiving is a struggle for people, regardless of place or time. And so we do well to consider the place of giving thanks in our own lives, and identify the proper relationship between faith and thanksgiving.

As Jesus was traveling around between Galilee and Samaria (the regions to the north of Jerusalem) he came across a group of lepers. Now, having leprosy was a life-changing experience for people in those days. Much worse than any COVID-related isolation and quarantine, if you had leprosy in those days you had to be separate from everyone, except others with the same ailment. You lived on the outskirts of towns, you couldn’t see your family. Oh, and on top of that you had a horrible disease that was at best tremendously uncomfortable. The only way to be cleared to return home is to recover (which would have been rare) and to go and show yourself to the priest who could make the call about whether or not the leprosy was truly gone. If he determined that it was gone, you could return to your life.

As Jesus is passing through the area, it’s not a surprise then that the lepers, who had undoubtedly heard about Jesus’ ability to heal diseases and infirmities, seek him out. When [Jesus] entered a certain village, ten men with leprosy met him. Standing at a distance, they called out loudly, “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us!” Notice that they leave considerable distance between themselves and Jesus—legally required social distancing. They could only get so close to someone without leprosy and no closer. But their plea is clear—the seek mercy from the one who has proven himself capable to help and to be merciful to the all people, including those on the lowest rungs of society.

Jesus’ miracle here is perhaps one of the most understated in his entire ministry. He makes no big show, he doesn’t even say that he’s going to heal them. His only direction is “Go, show yourselves to the priests.” He still has them live under the law that governed them. He doesn’t circumvent the law and say “You are healed; go home,” though as God he certainly could have done that. He still has them do what had been commanded while at the same working that miracle: as they went away they were cleansed.

Jesus’ mercy and love extended to these ten men. Think of the joy that would have flooded their hearts as they started on their way to the priests and saw their skin clear up. Think of the relief they would have felt as the pain just vanished. Think of the excitement they felt as they got closer to the priests knowing that they were just moments away from being brought back into society and to reestablishing some amount of normalcy to their lives. What joy would have filled their hearts! It would have been euphoric!

But only one of them stopped en route and turned around. There’s no mention of the intentions of the other nine. Were they planning to come back to Jesus after seeing the priests like they told them to? Were they going to seek him out after their reunion with their families? We don’t know. What we do know is what Luke records for us: One of them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, glorifying God with a loud voice. He fell on his face at Jesus’ feet, thanking him. And he was a Samaritan.

This one man knew what had happened. He knew that God had healed him. He knew that Jesus had worked this miracle to change his hopeless, isolating situation and returned to thank Jesus. He couldn’t repay Jesus, he couldn’t do anything except express his gratitude. And Jesus knew this. So he said to him, “Get up and go your way. Your faith has saved you.”

All ten of these men trusted that Jesus could heal them; that’s why they had called out to him in the first place. And that trust was not in something uncertain; that trust was on the rock of Jesus. But this Samaritan’s faith was so strong, it pulled him off the course he was on to come back and thank Jesus for what he had done. His faith trusted Jesus, but it also thanked Jesus.

We had been in a hopeless, isolating situation, one that was far more dire that the ten’s leprosy. Our sin cut us off from God and we could do nothing to fix it or make anything better. So complete was the isolation that we couldn’t even shout to Jesus for help and mercy. We were left alone in our sins, destined to be forever cut off from God in hell.

But Jesus saw our state and had mercy on us. But sin was a far bigger problem than leprosy. No simple visit to the priests would solve this. No, to solve the disease of sin, we needed our Great High Priest to offer himself as the sacrifice. The miracle worked on our behalf was far less subtle than the one we see with the lepers, because on that dark day the Son of God died for the people he created, for the ones who had sinned against him. The cleansing we needed required not physical healing or a third-party’s approval, but the blood of Jesus shed for us.

And so we look at ourselves and we are clean! The sin is gone, the disease is cured. We are restored, not simply to our brothers and sisters here, but to God. We are welcomed into God’s family once again because he cured us and made us whole. We are no longer isolated and hopeless, but wrapped in the arms of our loving God, never to fear again.

The faith that God gives through his Word and the sacraments clings to these promises. There is no doubt in our voice as we plead with God for his forgiveness. Before we even ask, we know we have it because that’s what he’s promised and done for us. We approach our God with complete confidence!

What, then, is our response to this? Do we see the enormity of it? Do we understand the ramifications of what Jesus has done for us? Is there any appropriate response except for overwhelming gratitude? Is there anything we can do but thank God for what he’s done for us? Can we possibly delay our thanksgiving to God until we accomplish this or that task? Hardly!

We throw ourselves at Jesus’ feet in joy for what he’s done. We praise him here at church. We fill our hearts and mouths with prayers of joy and gratitude along with our requests for help. We live lives that reflect our gratitude to God. Paul said in our Second Reading: You will be made rich in every way so that you may be generous in every way, which produces thanksgiving to God through us. Generosity to God, chiefly shown in generosity to the people God places around us, is a primary way that we show our gratitude to God. Which means when we take our forgiveness of sins and eternal life seriously, we look for ways to help others to express that thanksgiving.  We rejoice in our forgiveness in every possible way, not just one hour a week, but every moment of our lives.

We know our lives are not always filled with thanksgiving, though. I would guess all of us, if pressed, would acknowledge that at some points during the past week we took God’s forgiveness for granted. Perhaps his Word didn’t cross our minds on a given day. Perhaps it was a real struggle to really get ourselves going this morning to come to church. Thanksgiving is not as natural and automatic as it should be because of our sin. Often we are not the one thankful Samaritan, we are the other nine.

But our reason for thanksgiving means that there’s reason to rejoice even when we note our failure to thank. Because as we look at all the times we didn’t live our lives in thanksgiving, where we didn’t praise God like we should, where we didn’t reflect his love well to those around us, we know that for all of those things we are forgiven as well. Jesus died even for our ingratitude and thanklessness. That is forgiveness that faith trusts; that is forgiveness for which you can then give thanks.

So as you leave here this morning, go be thankful. Be thankful in your prayers, in your praise, in your words, and in your actions. Why? Because you know Jesus has saved you from hell, and as your faith clings to that promise it also thanks the God who gave it. Amen.