"The Work of the Trinity Produces Work in Us" (Sermon on 2 Corinthians 13:11-14) | June 4, 2023

Sermon Text: 2 Corinthians 13:11–14
Date: June 4, 2023
Event: Holy Trinity, Year A

 

2 Corinthians 13:11–14 (EHV)

Finally, brothers, rejoice. Set things in order. Be encouraged. Agree with one another. Be at peace. And the God of love and peace will be with you.

12Greet one another with a holy kiss. 13All the saints greet you.

14The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

 

The Work of the Trinity Produces Work in Us

 

“Garbage in, garbage out.” That’s a mantra that applies to a lot of different situations. Are you feeling bad? What have you been eating? Is that spreadsheet just not working the way it seems like it should? How good is the data you’ve fed into it? Is your faith floundering? How often do you tend to it with God’s Word?

The inverse of that mantra is probably also true. “Good things in, good things out.” Maybe not quite as catchy, but if you have eaten a healthy diet and are drinking a good amount of water, your physical feelings are likely to improve. If you double check the information you’ve plugged into that project for work and corrected some errors, things probably work closer to how you expected and hoped they would. And extra time around God’s Word probably yields a faith that can withstand more assault and trouble than it could before.

This morning we are spending time considering the mystery of the Trinity. We’ll confess things in the Athanasian Creed later in the service that seem to run contrary to reason. How can God be both one and three? How can each person of the Godhead be equally powerful, completely God yet not three separate Gods? The mind starts spinning out of control.

This is a place where God’s Word is sufficient but not exhaustive. God has let us know the basics of the whats, but not so much the hows—likely, we wouldn’t get it even if he had gone into more detail. God is God—he is over us and above us and so it’s actually not unreasonable to think that our reason cannot comprehend and grasp his true nature.

But for our meditation this morning, rather than getting lost in the trees of what God’s nature is and how the Trinity functions, let’s spend more time on something we know much more about from God’s inspired Word—what the Triune God has done and continues to do for us.

As Paul wrote to the Christians in Corinth, they had a lot of troubles. They had divisions in the congregation. We heard last week how they had struggled with the appropriate use of and attitudes about spiritual gifts. There were a lot of problems. And over the course of at least the two letters we have recorded for us in the New Testament, likely another letter that was not preserved for us, and a great deal of time spent with them in-person, Paul addressed many of these issues with the members of this congregation.

And thanks be to God, they saw improvements! Things got better as God did their work among them. But what specifically would lead them to do the things that were God-pleasing? Well, the same thing that would lead you toward a God-pleasing life, because the work of our Triune God produces fruitful good works in us. Good things in, good things out!

We’re going to start at the end of our brief reading this morning, with what has commonly been referred to as the “Apostolic blessing,” as opposed to the “Aaronic blessing,” which was given to Aaron and Moses. The Aaronic blessing is “The Lord bless you and keep you…,” the way we end most of our worship services. The Apostolic blessing is this closing verse from 2 Corinthians: The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

We use this blessing in worship often as well, so much so that the words may be overly familiar to us. We may hear them without thinking about them. So, let’s slow down and consider these words carefully and the powerful meaning God conveys through them.

To begin, Paul mentions God’s work in a three-fold way, naming each member of the Triune Godhead. The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all. A slightly different order than we would typically use for “Father, Son, and Spirit,” and the Father isn’t named quite that specifically, but the intention is clear. Paul is calling out the work of the Triune God as important and necessary.

Paul begins with the God the Son—Jesus—and describes his work as grace. Grace is a word that you hear often in a lot of different contexts. Maybe you know someone named Grace. Maybe you’ve been encouraged to have a little grace for yourself or someone else, which usually refers to something coming close to patience. But what is grace? Grace may get defined in a lot of different ways in our day, but in the biblical, New Testament sense, grace is God’s undeserved love to us. More than that, grace is the love that God shows us which gives to you and to me the exact opposite of what we deserve.

As sinners, we deserved only hell as the punishment for our sin. That’s what we had coming to us. Whether the people around us would call our sins large or small, hell is the only result for someone who has not kept God’s law perfectly. So, on our own, we are doomed.

Except we know that we have the opposite coming to us, right? Our whole confidence is that we will be in the perfection of heaven when we die, not the eternal punishment of hell. Why? Well, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ gives us the opposite of what we deserve. So great was Jesus’ love for us that he took our place under the demands on the law; Jesus kept God’s law perfectly and handed his life over to you and me. Now, through faith, God sees you and me as perfect. When he looks at you or me, he doesn’t see the failing sinners that we are every day, he only sees Jesus and his flawless obedience. Grace is not a word to be taken lightly or skipped over; grace means forgiveness instead of anger, heaven instead of hell.

Paul’s list continues with the love of God. Love and grace are very closely related terms (we used the word “love” to define “grace” just a few moments ago!), but it’s important for us to understand the love of God differently that we often use the word “love” in our day-to-day life. You might say you love a TV show. You might love the new coffee place that opened down the street from you. You might love your friends. But what happens to that love when the scripts for the TV show later in the season get weird and don’t make any sense anymore and the writing ruins your favorite characters? What happens to that love when that coffee shop starts blaring a music genre that you really don’t like all the time? What happens to that love when that friend betrays a confidence? Often, our love is conditional. We love when we are loved, we love when something is the way we want it to be, but if either of those changes, it is possible for our “love” to evaporate.

Not so with God. Paul uses a very specific Greek word here—agape—that is always used to describe the love of God. It’s not the love of friends, or parents. It’s not the love that is wrapped up in infatuation and lust. Agape love is selfless love. Agape love loves even when it is not loved in return. Agape love doesn’t falter and flounder. Agape love isn’t tied to a feeling in the stomach—agape love is a dedicated, conscious choice.

So it is with the love of God. The Father sent his Son to live that life of grace for us, not when we were nice to him, but when we were his enemies. He loved us when we were not loveable. He loved us when we were sinners, rebelling against him with every word, action, and thought. There was nothing in you and nothing in me that would have drawn God to us, that would have made him want to save us. No, the desire and will to save us came from God himself. His love is internal and unconditional. His love sent his Son to be our Savior. His love sent the Holy Spirit to work faith in our hearts.

And so, the love of God naturally leads into the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. The word fellowship could also be translated as communion. The picture is having close, mutual interests, being bound together. The Holy Spirit gives us communion, fellowship with God. We who had been completely separated from God by our sin are now bound tightly to God. How? The Holy Spirit brings us faith that clings us to Jesus as our Savior. Through the Spirit’s work, everything that Jesus accomplished, everything the Father sent him to do, becomes ours. We benefit from everything that Jesus did because of the Spirit’s work in our heart through his Word and the sacraments. And the result of that faith? We have fellowship with our Triune God rather than being eternally estranged from him.

And this grace, love, and fellowship completely change our attitudes and approach to this life. No longer do we live for ourselves, wanting to gratify the desires of our sinful natures and seeking our selfish pleasures. No, we want to live our lives as God would have us live them to thank God for his full and free forgiveness. And what does a life of thanksgiving look like? Paul gives a sampling:  Finally, brothers, rejoice. Set things in order. Be encouraged. Agree with one another. Be at peace. And the God of love and peace will be with you.

Our lives are filled with rejoicing over God’s unending love for us. We set things in our lives in order according to God’s will because he has forgiven our many sins. We are encouraged because we know the punishment our sins deserve will never be on us. We will be at peace and agree with each other because we know not only does the Spirit bind us to God, but he binds us to each other as well. In these things, we clearly see that God of love and peace is with us.

This what the Trinity works in us through his work for us. Truly the best things given to us will produce good things coming out from us. Good things in, good things out. May you always rejoice in our Triune God and his saving love for you now and forever. Amen!

"You Have the Holy Spirit for the Common Good" (Sermon on 1 Corinthians 12:3-11) | May 28, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Corinthians 12:3–11
Date: May 28, 2023
Event: The Day of Pentecost, Year A

 

1 Corinthians 12:3–11 (EHV)

Therefore I am informing you that no one speaking by God’s Spirit says, “A curse be upon Jesus,” and no one can say, “Jesus is Lord,” except by the Holy Spirit.

4There are various kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. 5There are different kinds of ministries, and yet the same Lord. 6There are various kinds of activity, but the same God, who produces all of them in everyone.

7Each person is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. 8To one person a message of wisdom is given by the Spirit; to another, a message of knowledge, as the same Spirit provides it; 9by the same Spirit, faith is given to someone else; and to another, the same Spirit gives healing gifts. 10Another is given powers to do miracles; another, the gift of prophecy; another, the evaluating of spirits; someone else, different kinds of tongues; and another, the interpretation of tongues. 11One and the same Spirit produces all of these, distributing them to each one individually as he desires. 

 

You Have the Holy Spirit for the Common Good

 

More than once in high school as I sat studying vocabulary for a Latin or German quiz, I wistfully thought how nice it would be if the Holy Spirit would suddenly descend on me and I would just be fluent in these languages. I wouldn’t need to study anymore; my skills would be great rather than aggressively mediocre to bad; this would be a tool I could just use rather than fighting to try to haphazardly get it crammed into my skull.

But the Holy Spirit never came with that kind of gift for me. As a result, I’m probably not the person to bring all your burning Latin and German questions, which is probably ok; we can find other things to talk about and encourage each other with.

On a day like Pentecost, when we celebrate the birthday of the Christian church on the first Christian Pentecost day, we might look at some of the gifts that the apostles were given with some envy or even jealousy. We hear Peter’s sermon on Pentecost through which God brought 3,000 to faith and we think that even having 10% of that, or 1%, or even .1% of that would be an amazing blessing. How exciting would it be to have 300, or 30, or even 3 people brought from unbelief to faith through the message proclaimed here? And yet, we rarely see that. In fact, often instead of rejoicing over a myriad of new people coming to faith through our congregation’s work, we feel more like we’re losing the people we already had as part of our church family.

And so, either personally or collectively, we grouse a little bit at the choices God seems to have made. “If I had this gift or that gift, I could really do some good, Lord,” we might think. “If you just did something a little bit different, the way we see it should be done, the ministry of our congregation would be an unstoppable powerhouse, Lord.” And it’s not too far of a jump to go from mild dissatisfaction to full-blown coveting of gifts that God has not given and being filled with discontent over the gifts he has given.

So, this morning, let’s focus our attention on Paul’s parsing of gifts from the Spirit. Let’s work together to understand not just where they come from, but why God chooses to give the spiritual gifts that he gives.

Paul starts us with the most fundamental and the most profound gift of the Holy Spirit: saving faith. He says, “No one speaking by God’s Spirit says, “A curse be upon Jesus,” and no one can say, “Jesus is Lord,” except by the Holy Spirit.” Without the Holy Spirit’s work, Jesus’ work is useless, because no one can choose to believe in Jesus on their own. Because our sin separates us from God, no one can make a decision to start trusting in Jesus or to welcome Jesus as Savior into their heart. None of that happens without the Holy Spirit. So, no one who believes in Jesus curses him, and no one can believe in Jesus as Savior without the Holy Spirit.

The Holy Spirit brings and strengthens that faith through his Word and the sacraments. We see that in the conversion of the 3,000 on that first Christian Pentecost day. How did they come to believe? The preaching of the Word. Where was their faith strengthened? In baptism. The Holy Spirit was not primarily working that day in the sound of wind, the supernatural flames, and the ability to speak in tongues. No, the Holy Spirit was primarily working in bringing people to trust that Jesus was, in fact, their Savior. The conversion of the crowd from unbelief to faith was the most amazing miracle that day. That’s true with the number totaling 3,000; that would still be true if the number had just been one. Because in that conversion, it’s not just an amazing thing for a moment—it is work that brings blessings and rescues through eternity.

That is a gift you have been given. Whether you would deem your faith “weak” or “strong,” that you have faith to trust Jesus as your Savior at all is the gift and working of the Holy Spirit. You cling to Jesus’ death and resurrection as the certainty of your forgiveness. You trust, because of the work of the Spirit, that you will be in heaven as Jesus promised. You say, “Jesus is Lord,” “Jesus is Savior,” “Jesus is Good Shepherd” by the Holy Spirit. Thanks be to God!

Every other gift God gives is in service of that gift of saving faith. Why could the disciples speak in various languages that they had never studied on Pentecost? Not to make studying for that foreign language quiz easier or unnecessary, but to tell people about Jesus. Why did Jesus, the prophets, or the apostles work miracles at times? To draw attention to the saving message that God has given: sins forgiven by the promised Savior.

And this is the point that Paul is getting to in the latter verses of our Second Reading: There are various kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of ministries, and yet the same Lord. There are various kinds of activity, but the same God, who produces all of them in everyone. Each person is given a manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. Why does God give gifts to people? For the common good—especially the common good of faith in Jesus and certainty of eternal life.

It's pretty misguided, then, if you or I look at someone else’s gift and envy that person or covet what God has given to them. In those moments, we are not considering the common good, but our own personal good, our own personal reputation, or our own personal glory, which is a wild distortion of why God gives gifts to people. Paul enumerates some of the gifts that may be given: To one person a message of wisdom is given by the Spirit; to another, a message of knowledge, as the same Spirit provides it; by the same Spirit, faith is given to someone else; and to another, the same Spirit gives healing gifts. Another is given powers to do miracles; another, the gift of prophecy; another, the evaluating of spirits; someone else, different kinds of tongues; and another, the interpretation of tongues. Do some gifts in that list seem flashier or more impressive to our human way of thinking than others? Does being able to heal someone’s disease seem more awe-inspiring than being able to “evaluate the spirits,” that is, to determine whether someone is teaching rightly by God’s Word or not? Does the gift of teaching publicly seem more impressive than the gift of encouraging privately?

What are we basing these evaluations on? What is informing our thinking? It’s probably not thanksgiving to God. Oftentimes, we find ourselves sinning either by coveting the gifts that God has not given to us and thinking he’s probably made a mistake of some sort or by disparaging the gifts that he has given to us as unhelpful or unimpressive. We fall into the same trap that the Corinthians fell into—valuing some gifts over others, coveting what we can’t or don’t have. Or, if we have gifts that our sinful natures do think are pretty spectacular, we might lord those over other people rather than using those gifts to serve others.

For these thoughts and attitudes, we need to repent. For our discontent, for our accusations against God, for our ingratitude with the gifts he has given to us, we come before him in sorrow over our sin. For our exalting of ourselves, for our thinking that our gifts have something to do with us rather than him, we come on our knees before our God. We come before him repentant. And we leave forgiven—because Jesus died to pay for these sins as well. In Jesus’ death and resurrection, we find the solution to all our sins, including the discontent or inappropriate exaltation of certain gifts. That chief gift of the Spirit sits above them all—we know our sins are forgiven because the Holy Spirit has worked that trust in our hearts.

It’s important for us to keep in mind how Paul ended our brief reading from this letter: One and the same Spirit produces all of these, distributing them to each one individually as he desires. It’s important to remember where these gifts come from. Every gift, as different as they may be, all have their origin point in the same Spirit. God not only is the source of these gifts, but he has carefully chosen what, where, and to whom he has given them. God gives these gifts not to produce jealousy and discontent, but for the common good, to serve each other, and to serve the mission of sharing his Word that he’s given to us all.

So, as you look at the gifts you’ve been given, rather than comparing yourself with others, take stock of the blessings God has given to you. If you feel that you cannot serve God as well as some people who’ve been given different gifts than you’ve been given, consider how the gifts you have been given could be better used in service and thanksgiving to God.

Your God loves you and has given each of you the most precious gift—faith to trust Jesus as your Savior. Everything else is a bonus. May God lead us all to cherish that primary gift and everything else he gives, using them to his glory in thanksgiving for the eternal life that he freely gives! Amen.

"Jesus’ Work Is Done; Our Work Continues" (Sermon on Acts 1:1-11) | May 21, 2023

Sermon Text: Acts 1:1-11
Date: May 21, 2023
Event: The Ascension of Our Lord (Observed), Year A

 

Acts 1:1-11 (EHV)

I wrote my first book, Theophilus, about everything Jesus began doing and teaching 2until the day he was taken up, after he had given instructions through the Holy Spirit to the apostles he had chosen. 3After he had suffered, he presented himself alive to the apostles with many convincing proofs. He appeared to them over a period of forty days and told them things about the kingdom of God.

4Once, when he was eating with them, he commanded them, “Do not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for what the Father promised, which you heard from me. 5For John baptized with water, but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit not many days from now.”

6So when they were together with him, they asked, “Lord, is this the time when you are going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”

7He said to them, “It is not for you to know the times or seasons that the Father has set by his own authority. 8But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

9After he said these things, he was taken up while they were watching, and a cloud took him out of their sight. 10They were looking intently into the sky as he went away. Suddenly, two men in white clothes stood beside them. 11They said, “Men of Galilee, why are you standing here looking up into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.”

 

Jesus’ Work Is Done; Our Work Continues

 

Do you make to-do lists? Lately, I’ve been using electronic to-do lists on the phone and computer. While I really like that from an organizational standpoint and being to have my list just about anywhere, I have to admit there’s something missing without the tactile, almost visceral feeling of scratching something off a list. And there’s something not quite as satisfying about an empty to-do list on the screen compared to a mangled, completed list on a piece of paper.

Whatever your organizational methods might be, there is something satisfying about a project completed and taking it off our plate. In a lot of ways, that is what the festival of the Ascension of Our Lord is about—Jesus is showing us his completed to-do list. But in other ways, it’s a fresh, well-filled list of things for God’s people to accomplish. So, this morning, let’s consider what it means that Jesus’ work is done, and our work continues on.

It may seem a little bit weird to talk about Jesus’ work being done here with his ascension into heaven. After all, haven’t we been talking throughout the whole Easter season that his resurrection was the end of his work, proving that the payment was received in full? Even more than that, didn’t Jesus himself say his work was finished on Good Friday on the cross? So, what makes his ascension the actual end of his work? Is it even the end?

Jesus’ resurrection was and remains a crucial part of the gospel message. It was absolutely vital that Peter and Thomas and all of the disciples knew that Jesus had actually, physically risen from the dead. Not that our sins were paid for at the tomb—but it was promised that the Messiah would rise, that he would not see decay in the grave. Jesus had to rise from the dead to fulfill the promises about the Savior. But this was more than just scratching things off his to-do list. Jesus’ resurrection proved that everything worked. Jesus said he would suffer and die to pay for the sins of the whole world—that he would be lifted up so that everyone who put their faith in him as Savior would have eternal life. Had he not risen from the dead, that would mean something had gone horribly wrong with God’s plans, and as Paul wrote to the Corinthians, “If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins” (1 Corinthians 15:17). But Jesus has been raised and his resurrection assures us that God accepted his payment for our sins and that through Jesus, we are forgiven!

God drives the truth that our salvation is complete in many ways. If Jesus’ work for us could be summarized with his words from the cross, “It is finished,” his resurrection is the exclamation point at the end of that sentence, and his ascension is a heavy underline.

Jesus ascending into heaven is a clear mark that this work of salvation is complete. Everything that mankind needed from God to rescue us from our sins has been accomplished. Jesus lived a perfect life for us and suffered hell in our place on the cross to pay for our sins. We are forgiven. Heaven is our free gift. There is nothing, not one sliver of anything, that we need to (or even can) do. His ascension is the end of his earthly ministry because he did it all. You and I are forgiven because God has forgiven us in Jesus. End of story. Full stop.

Jesus’ work of salvation is done. But at his ascension, his disciples’ work was really just beginning: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” Jesus had often told his disciples what their role would be after his work was done. Jesus had even sent them to practice sharing his Word while he was still with them. And this was because Jesus would not remain visibly on earth as a teacher, preacher, and miracle worker as he had been during his earthly ministry. His disciples would be the messengers. He would give them that title apostle, which means someone who is sent out. Jesus was sending them out with the gospel.

That’s really the point of the book of Acts. It is Luke's follow-up to his Gospel which traces not the life and work of Jesus, but the life and work of the very early Christian church. The book of Acts, in part, answers the question, “How did the apostles serve as Jesus’ witnesses?” Luke writes to Theophilus to tell him what happened after Jesus’ work was done—and so begins with the very end of Jesus’ earthly ministry.

Throughout the book of Acts, you can see the gospel acting like a rock thrown into a pond, just as Jesus said it would. It starts in Jerusalem (which we’ll celebrate next Sunday on Pentecost Day), and ripples out to Judea, the region around Jerusalem, then to Samaria, the region between Judea and Galilee, and from there to “the ends of the earth.” The book of Acts shows the gospel getting as far as Rome. Paul’s letter to the Romans makes clear he had a desire to get to Spain (though whether he got there or not remains unknown). History and tradition tell us of the possibility of the disciples going very, very far from Jerusalem, perhaps as far as India or even beyond.

So, they went far, but not everywhere. Not every person heard about Jesus from the apostles. Because Jesus never intended this message to be shared in one generation. The work of going to the ends of the earth began with the disciples, but it continues with us.

The angels reminded the disciples of what would come in the future: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing here looking up into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven.” This remains true for you and me today as well. We don’t see Jesus with our physical eyes—though we know he is ruling all things for us. But Jesus will return one day, and on that day that will be the end of this life. If you and I are still alive when Jesus returns—which really could be today!—we will rejoice to finally to have our sinful natures purged from us completely, to be taken to eternal life with our Savior because he has taken away our sins.

And while he could return at any moment, we are not to stand on the top of a hill, slack-jawed, staring at the clouds waiting for him to reappear. No, until Jesus returns, we have work to do. We have responsibilities on our plates to our families, our communities, our work, and even ourselves.

But Jesus also has included us in the work to share his gospel. In fact, neither he nor the angels would be the primary messengers of this good news. No, it was always the plan that those who have experienced God’s forgiveness—you and me—would be the primary messengers to share that forgiveness.

We do that together as a congregation as we provide a place where we all can gather regularly, study God’s Word, and have the Holy Spirit build us up in our faith. We work together to bring this eternally-important message to our community in the best way that we can. We work together as a church body, a synod, to jointly train new generations of pastors, teachers, staff ministers, and church leaders. We work together to send missionaries to places where you and I cannot go, to support those messengers as they truly go to the ends of the earth.

And in this, we rightly question if Jesus’ work is actually done. While the work of salvation is absolutely complete, Jesus’ ascension does not mean that he has left us on our own to fend for ourselves and navigate these tasks blindly. God is really doing this work through us. We may share Jesus with someone, but he is working through that sharing. We may ensure that God’s Word goes out to some distant or very close place, but God is working through us to bring about success for that work. He alone works faith in the heart of those who hear this message. He brings people to himself through our witness of what Jesus has done.

So, let’s embrace the task that Jesus has for us. Let us work together in with whatever skills and blessings the Lord has given to us, to share the glorious message of sins completely forgiven by Jesus. This is a message that people will not learn on their own; they cannot figure it out by exploring nature or searching their own hearts. They need someone to share it with them. They need a witness to share what they know. My brothers and sisters, let’s be those witnesses in whatever opportunities the Lord provides for us. Let us work together to share the glorious message that our sin is forgiven, and heaven is ours because Christ is risen, he is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

"Repentance Conforms Us to God" (Sermon on Acts 17:22-31) | May 14, 2023

Sermon Text: Acts 17:22-31
Date: May 14, 2023
Event: The Sixth Sunday of Easter, Year A

 

Acts 17:22-31 (EHV)

Then Paul stood up in front of the council of the Areopagus and said, “Men of Athens, I see that you are very religious in every way. 23For as I was walking around and carefully observing your objects of worship, I even found an altar on which had been inscribed, ‘To an unknown god.’ Now what you worship as unknown—this is what I am going to proclaim to you.

24“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples made with hands. 25Neither is he served by human hands, as if he needed anything, since he himself gives all people life and breath and everything they have. 26From one man, he made every nation of mankind to live over the entire face of the earth. He determined the appointed times and the boundaries where they would live. 27He did this so they would seek God and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. 28‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘Indeed, we are also his offspring.’

29“Therefore, since we are God’s offspring, we should not think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by human skill and planning. 30Although God overlooked the times of ignorance, he is now commanding all people everywhere to repent, 31because he has set a day on which he is going to judge the world in righteousness by the man he appointed. He provided proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead.”

 

Repentance Conforms Us to God

 

As Paul walked through the city of Athens, he was coming from some really, really difficult times. He had been run out of both the Macedonian cities of Thessalonica and Berea by those who rejected the gospel and were jealous of his preaching about Jesus. Now, he walked through the capital city of Greece, alone, waiting for his companions to join him.

But he wasn’t exactly throwing a pity party for himself. Paul took the opportunity to share Jesus in this new place where his mission journeys had not yet taken him. As he did in most places, Paul began by seeking out the Jewish synagogue and sharing the good news with the believers there. But Paul didn’t just reach out to the Jewish people, he also spent time every day speaking in the marketplace, sharing the good news with the population at large. And as he had time, he explored the city. He was distraught to see all the idols, shrines, and temples devoted to the gods and goddesses of what we would today call the Greek mythology system—supposedly divine beings like Zeus, Hermes, Artemis, Dionysus, and Poseidon, just to name a few.

But Athens wasn’t just the political capital of Greece, it was also the thought capital. In the verse just prior to our First Reading for this morning, Luke describes the people in Athens this way: All the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there enjoyed doing nothing more than telling or listening to something new (Acts 17:21). They loved to soak in new thoughts and philosophies and were eager to hear any new ways of thinking.

The Athenians’ addiction to new thought meant they just had to know more about what Paul was sharing. They asked him, “May we know what this new teaching is that you are talking about? You seem to be bringing in some ideas that are strange to our ears, so we want to know what these things mean” (Acts 17:19-20). They brought Paul to the council of the Areopagus, a group that had oversight on “matters of morals and religion” in Athens—a highly respected group (cf. The New Bible Dictionary, 3rd Ed.). If someone was bringing new religious thought into Athens, this was the group to investigate.

Our First Reading for this morning is the message that Paul delivered that day to this council. Notice that Paul doesn’t bring in Scripture at all, to begin with. He meets them where they are with the things right around them in the city: “Men of Athens, I see that you are very religious in every way.” What a charitable way to say, “Boy, you sure worship a lot of fictional deities around here, don’t you?”

But something stuck out to Paul as he walked through the city: As I was walking around and carefully observing your objects of worship, I even found an altar on which had been inscribed, ‘To an unknown god.’ These people were so dedicated to religious thought that they figured they must have missed someone or something, so they created a catch-all altar to celebrate the god they did not know. This was Paul’s in: Now what you worship as unknown—this is what I am going to proclaim to you. He doesn’t chastise them for their idolatry, but he hooks into their obsession with new philosophical and religious thought: “You want to know a secret? I know this unknown God. Let me tell you about him!”

The problem that created all the different gods in the Greek system is the same problem the people have today. Mankind always wants to fashion a god they can understand or hold or even manipulate. People take the natural knowledge that they have—that a supreme being exists, that he is powerful, and that he is upset because they have not done what he said they should do—and then they try to make the best possible situation out of it. Either, creating gods that have plenty of human quirks and failings as the Greeks and Romans did so that they don’t feel bad about their own failings, or creating a system of work that will try to scratch the itch to pay off a debt to this deity, earn his love or respect or forgiveness or whatever the goal might be, and overall just try to soothe the screaming conscience.

But that’s not the way God works, that’s not the way religion or faith works. You can’t just create something and hope that it works out. Faith needs an object, and to be of any value that object must be trustworthy. You and I are not immune from this line of thinking. The delusions that you and I create in our minds are not trustworthy in any way. Any inclination that we are in control, that we can fix things, that we can make things right with the Creator of the universe is pure ego—to a damning degree.

No, we don’t bend and shape God to meet our thoughts and feelings; God bends and shapes us. How does he do that? Paul said to the Athenians, “Therefore, since we are God’s offspring, we should not think that the divine being is like gold or silver or stone, an image formed by human skill and planning. Although God overlooked the times of ignorance, he is now commanding all people everywhere to repent.” Repentance is not making up your own rules, fashioning your own god, or trying to create your own balm for a burning conscience. No, repentance acknowledges sin and trusts that God—who promised to forgive us—has removed those sins. Repentance doesn’t find comfort or relief in the act or the process; repentance brings the true, lasting comfort that God promised and provides.

And in this way, God conforms us to his will. He makes the rules; he sets the standards. We, as the creation, are in service and at the will of the Creator.

That might not sound great. That might sound like our agency is removed. It actually has been, but not by God. Our sin removed that agency and made it impossible for us to do anything to please God or fix our relationship with him. Paul said that God wanted people to seek [him] and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. God’s will is that we would reach out and find him, not in some fiction that we create, but in the way he has provided for himself to be found.

Where has God revealed himself? In his Word. God’s Word clearly confirms our consciences’ feelings of failure by showing us God’s objective right and wrong in his law, and how we have failed to keep it. But he doesn’t leave us flailing, making up things in a vain attempt to fix it. He doesn’t direct us to build altars at random grasping about wildly for some comfort. No, in his Word God himself provides the comfort we desperately need and naturally long for—though his comfort is something we could never have imagined.

Paul confirms that the judgment the Athenians naturally feared was true—judgment was coming. But what they did not expect and could not have known is that the one who would do the judging is also the one who had saved them. “He has set a day on which he is going to judge the world in righteousness by the man he appointed. He provided proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead.”

Now, our reading ends here because Paul’s sermon gets cut off here. Once Paul brings in Jesus’ resurrection, many of the people recoil from his teaching. They liked new, wild ideas, but this was evidently a bridge too far for many of them. And that makes sense because now Paul is moving into areas that can only be grasped with God-given faith.

Jesus is our substitute and Savior. He is the one that lived a perfect life in our place. He is the one who suffered the death, the hell, that we deserved on the cross. He paid the full price for all of our sins. The “unknown god” is the Savior God. Our consciences can’t conceive of this; our minds could never even begin to imagine that the one we sinned against is the one who would pay our penalty and rescue us. But this is what has happened—and as we heard Jesus say last Sunday, it is the only way for us to find forgiveness of sins and eternal life. No one comes to the Father except through Jesus.

Repentance, then, is our path forward. Not just feeling bad about sin—though that is the start of it—but trusting that what God says is true. When he promises you and me that our sins are forgiven and gone, we can trust that with no hesitation, no matter how much we might naturally recoil from that message or find it to be bizarre or even wrong. The gospel message of sins forgiven in Jesus is never going to make sense to our natural selves, but in repentance, we express our faith that God has given to us—we bring our load of sins to Jesus and trust his promise that he has taken them away.

In this, God conforms us to himself. Rather than people forming statues and altars from stone and wood and precious metals in an attempt to find spiritual peace, God forms us into people who trust him, and who see Jesus’ resurrection from the dead as the certainty of our salvation. He forms us into people who live lives as he wants us to live to thank him for his free and full forgiveness.

My brothers and sisters, let God conform you. Let him shape you. He does that through his forgiveness; he does that through his certain promises. May we not seek our own way through this life, but his way. That way leads to eternal life only and always through Jesus. There is no doubt about the result of God’s conforming work through his Word that produces repentance, for Christ has risen. He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

"Build Wisely" (Sermon on 1 Peter 2:4-10) | May 7, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Peter 2:4-10
Date: May 7, 2023
Event: The Fifth Sunday of Easter, Year A

 

1 Peter 2:4-10 (EHV)

As you come to him, the Living Stone, rejected by men but chosen by God and precious, 5you also, like living stones, are being built as a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, in order to bring spiritual sacrifices that are acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. 6For it says in Scripture:

See, I lay a stone in Zion,
a chosen and precious cornerstone,
and the one who believes in him will certainly not be put to shame.

7Therefore, for you who believe, this is an honor. But for those who do not believe:

The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone,

8and,

a stone over which they stumble
and a rock over which they fall.

Because they continue to disobey the word, they stumble over it. And that is the consequence appointed for them.

9But 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.

 

Build Wisely

 

Over the last year or so, we’ve gone through a lot of different decisions with our remodeling work around campus. Many decisions had to be made because what we found when doing demolition was not what was expected (or hoped) to be true and other times it’s the debate of what is the best option in terms of plan and materials. Should the bathroom floor be vinyl or ceramic tile? Should the walls have a smooth or textured finish? Should the paint colors be striking or neutral? Should there be one combined furnace and AC unit for both the Sanctuary and Fellowship Hall or should we have two separate units? And if two, where will we put them? Should the hillside in the parking lot be graded to be stable or have a retaining wall?

Our prime driver in these decisions, as we worked with the contractor, has been bang for the buck—we’re not looking to do the most expensive things possible, but also recognize that the cheapest path forward right now is probably not the best option long-term. So, the decisions have largely come down to what we can economically do that will last for a long time. What can make this space a place to worship our Savior and enjoy fellowship with each other for many years while at the same time not bankrupting the congregation?

For many of those decisions, there is no right or wrong answer, but you do have to make a choice because you can’t do three different things at the same time. So, you try to make the best decision you can and commend it to the Lord for his blessing.

But these are not coinflip decisions. No one is just saying, “Well, I know nothing about this, let’s just throw darts at the wall and see where they land.” No, the decisions are informed. They are based on our research or on asking people more in the know than any of us are. You can’t make good decisions without being informed at least a little bit. If you’re going to build and do a good job, you must build wisely.

In our Second Reading for this morning, God gives us a picture of a building being built to compare to you and me, the church. In fact, this is a common picture that God uses throughout the Old and New Testaments to describe his people. God builds us, but once you have been brought to faith, you are part of that building and reinforcing project. When it comes to your spiritual life, far more than any physical building or renovation project, you want to build wisely.

Peter begins our reading this way: As you come to him, the Living Stone, rejected by men but chosen by God and precious, you also, like living stones, are being built as a spiritual house. What is the goal of this building project? That you and I are built as a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, in order to bring spiritual sacrifices that are acceptable to God.

And this is quite a monumental undertaking because by nature we were not holy at all. By nature, we are corrupted by sin completely and totally. And because of that sin corruption, we can’t do anything to please God. Nothing an unbeliever does or says or thinks is ever acceptable to God because it is completely ruined by sin. So, how does this happen? How does the change take place?

Peter quotes from Isaiah 28 when he says: See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who believes in him will certainly not be put to shame. And then he comments: Therefore, for you who believe, this is an honor. In our midweek Lenten worship about two months ago, we heard Jesus talk about this cornerstone prophecy. The cornerstone was not an ornamental part of the building in those days, but a crucial component of the building. A well-cut, strong cornerstone placed at the start of the walls would ensure a square, stable building. But a cornerstone that was weak or whose sides were at goofy angles would mean a really, really questionable building that was potentially a great hazard and a waste of time and resources. The cornerstone was absolutely critical if one wanted to build wisely.

When it comes to our spiritual state, we as people come up with all sorts of ideas of how to make things better. “If I do this this way, God will be happy with me.” “If I check these things off of a list, God won’t be so upset with me.” “If I do this for this person, I’ll start to get rid of that guilty feeling I feel over here.” We think this way because we want to believe that our spiritual problems are things we can fix, that our sin is something we can remove if we just scrub hard enough or in the right way. We start trying to build this spiritual house, but a house built like that is built with an incredibly wonky cornerstone. It’s soft and weak; it’s cattywampus and means the walls of the building go all over the place. It will not stand or endure.

Jesus made some pretty exclusive claims in our Gospel for this morning: “I am the Way and the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father, except through me” (John 14:6). Jesus claims exclusivity as the way to heaven; he claims exclusivity as the one and only Cornerstone on which our spiritual houses can be built. Why?

Peter commented on this as he continued his Old Testament quotations regarding God’s Cornerstone: But for those who do not believe: The stone which the builders rejected has become the cornerstone, and, a stone over which they stumble and a rock over which they fall. Not building with God’s Cornerstone doesn’t mean that it goes away. Building with something different just means that God’s Cornerstone is a hazard on your construction site. If Jesus is not the basis of your spiritual life, he is something you’re tripping and falling over.

Those who ignore God’s Word, who ascribe many paths to heaven, who think all “good people” will end up fine after this life are faceplanting over God’s Cornerstone. Peter says of people building in this way: because they continue to disobey the word, they stumble over it. And that is the consequence appointed for them. Ignoring God’s Word, or actively rejecting it, leads to this spiritual stumbling and ultimately disaster. It’s not like a little trip that you get up and brush yourself off from; it’s a dire fall that means eternal condemnation as the consequence for choosing to ignore God’s Cornerstone and building foolishly.

If my confidence for eternal life or spiritual health or anything else comes from my own piousness and assumed God-pleasing behavior, I’m building a horribly unstable building. It will fall down and take me with it.

To build a spiritual house wisely, you need Jesus. Peter describes the one built with Jesus as the Cornerstone this way: 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. 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.

It's frustrating to think that there’s no way for me to solve my sin problem. It’s a helpless feeling to know that any way I chose to build my spiritual house, on my own, will end in disaster. But God doesn’t look at that situation and say, “Wow, it really stinks to be you” and then turn his back on us. No, God gave us what we needed. When we needed mercy, he showed us mercy in Jesus’ work on our behalf. When we were helpless, he rescued us. When we were without a cornerstone, he placed himself as the root and foundation of our lives.

Yes, it doesn’t feel great to know that by nature we cannot do anything to save ourselves and that any plans we make, any walls we build, will collapse and fail. But you don’t have to figure this out for yourself. God has done it for you. He has given you Jesus as your Savior, as the one who brings complete forgiveness for every sin. You build a spiritual house on him, not in an effort to fix your relationship with God, but built wisely and joyfully because Jesus already solved all of those problems.

So, as you continue to build that spiritual house, base it all on Jesus, the one who is our only and complete rescue from sin, death, and hell. We have been rescued from every evil, not because we are so wonderful, but because our God is so merciful. He has made us into his church, called us out of darkness, made us his people, and shown us mercy. If you build on him, you build wisely. Lord, help us to always build our spiritual lives like this, dependent completely on you as the one who lived, died, and rose to free us from sin. Amen.

"We Have Returned to the Shepherd of Our Souls" (Sermon on 1 Peter 2:19-25) | April 30, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Peter 2:19-25
Date: April 30, 2023
Event: The Fourth Sunday of Easter, Year A (Good Shepherd Sunday)

 

1 Peter 2:19-25 (EHV)

For this is favorable: if a person endures sorrows while suffering unjustly because he is conscious of God. 20For what credit is it to you if you receive a beating for sinning and patiently endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and endure it, this is favorable with God.

21Indeed, you were called to do this, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example so that you would follow in his steps. 22He did not commit a sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth. 23When he was insulted, he did not insult in return. When he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. 24He himself carried our sins in his body on the tree so that we would be dead to sins and alive to righteousness. By his wounds you were healed. 25For you were like sheep going astray, but you are now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.

 

We Have Returned to the Shepherd of Our Souls

 

Sheep wander. That’s kind of their trademark action, almost their whole personality. They mindlessly go off on their own path even when where they are is good and pleasant. A sheep is likely to go from plenty of food to a place with no food, to go from a place with abundant water to someplace dry, from a safe place to a place filled with danger and peril.

This is not because the sheep has a death wish or is filled with self-loathing. The sheep is just kind of mindless. He will absentmindedly go from a good place to a bad one because he didn’t even notice.

There’s a reason that God often uses sheep as a picture and example of us. How often don’t we wander from what we know is good because God has provided or willed it, and moved on to someplace we thought would be better and wasn’t? That’s sin in its most basic essence. If we think back to the Garden of Eden, what was Satan’s primary temptation? “What God here has provided is bad. Listening to him is limiting. Everything will be better for you if you just disobey his cruel commands.” And we know how truthful Satan was being—all mankind since has paid the price because Adam and Eve trusted his lie.

“We all have gone astray like sheep,” Isaiah says in his prophecy, reflecting not only of his countrymen of his time but of all people of all time—you and me included. We have wandered from what our God has said and done and instead sought our own desires against his. We have gone far from God, this path of seeking out sin instead of God has left us in the same position as the people the apostle Paul wrote to Timothy about: Some have wandered away from the faith and have pierced themselves with many pains.

Sheep may wander away and inflict suffering on themselves by their own doing. We may have a sense of sorrow for an animal in that condition, but we might also recognize that they kind of did it to themselves. In our Second Reading for this morning, Peter has a similar observation, not about sheep, but about us: For this is favorable: if a person endures sorrows while suffering unjustly because he is conscious of God. For what credit is it to you if you receive a beating for sinning and patiently endure it? But if you suffer for doing good and endure it, this is favorable with God.

Someone who suffers negative consequences, who endures punishment because of something wrong they have done are experiencing justice. And while we might not wish harm on any other person, we probably would also look at that situation without a ton of pity. To the convicted murderer who must spend the rest of his life in prison, we might not grieve. We may not see as much sorrow in that situation as we see justice: these are the natural results of these actions.

And that’s Peter’s point. If you, dear sheep, suffer hardship because you are wandering away from God and embracing sin, what credit is it to you? Will anyone commend you for your patience in such a situation? Is anyone going to feel for you if you’re getting the just results for what you have done? Probably not.

But this is the path of sin. Sin always seems enticing and exciting, but never leads to anything positive, only negative. The person who is obsessed with money is consumed by his greed. The person who seeks sexual fulfillment outside of God’s design for sex and marriage brings heartache, depression, and perhaps even disease on themselves. The person who abuses drugs or alcohol may be impaired, and their relationships or even their freedom may be jeopardized based on what they do while under the influence. What credit is it to you if you receive a beating for sinning and patiently endure it? That doesn’t say anything positive about your character other than perhaps you can do the time for doing the crime.

But sheep don’t just suffer because they wander away from the safety and abundance that the shepherd supplies. Sometimes there are dangers that come seeking them out. Predators arrive to try to tear the flock apart and kill some of them. Hardship and dangers may come through no fault of their own—even if they were listening to their shepherd completely.

Peter acknowledges that this same thing is true for you and me, sheep of the Good Shepherd. You and I may endure sorrows and suffering because of our faith in God. Peter says that while suffering because you did something wrong is not to your credit at all, suffering for doing good and even suffering because you are a Christian is favorable with God.

Why is this favorable with God? Because this is part of his calling to you to be his follower, to be his disciple. Jesus described this as bearing your cross and following him. Peter expounds upon this thought: You were called to do this, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example so that you would follow in his steps. He did not commit a sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth. When he was insulted, he did not insult in return. When he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly. Jesus suffered; those who follow him will endure suffering. As what happened to the Shepherd, so it will happen for the sheep.

Jesus suffered for a very specific purpose. He himself carried our sins in his body on the tree so that we would be dead to sins and alive to righteousness. By his wounds you were healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but you are now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. Our Good Shepherd took the sins that separated us from him and brought punishment on our heads on himself. And whether our minds are drawn to some of the sins we mentioned before—greed, lust, substance abuse, or something more subtle like trying to hide away from our faith because we don’t want to endure any suffering because of it, all of these Jesus has forgiven. Every sin was placed on our Good Shepherd when he laid down his life for us.

And because of that, he has become the gate, or the door, for us to enter back into fellowship with God. We couldn’t make that happen, but we have access to God once again through Jesus’ death and resurrection, which has paid for our sins and proved our forgiveness.

Being forgiven means we have returned (or perhaps even better, we have been turned) to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. No longer are we sheep wandering away from God. No longer are we sheep in danger from predators who will tear us to pieces. The Good Shepherd has curbed our wandering and brought us to himself. He has defeated our enemies so that we are his. And nothing will change that. No suffering in this life, no failures on our part. Our Good Shepherd is infinitely patient, infinitely loving, infinitely forgiving, and infinitely protective. Whatever happens to us, good or bad, our dear Shepherd will work for our eternal good.

So, my dear fellow sheep, let us stick tightly to the Shepherd who loves us, who takes care of us, who even corrects us for our good. He suffered for us so that we would never suffer again after this life. He laid down his life and took it up again to rescue his wandering sheep. By his wounds you were healed. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

"Jesus' Resurrection Brings Us New Life" (Sermon on 1 Peter 1:17-21) | April 23, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Peter 1:17-21
Date: April 23, 2023
Event: The Third Sunday of Easter, Year A

 

1 Peter 1:17-21 (EHV)

If you call on the Father who judges impartially, according to the work of each person, conduct yourselves during the time of your pilgrimage in reverence, 18because you know that you were redeemed from your empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, not with things that pass away, such as silver or gold, 19but with the precious blood of Christ, like a lamb without blemish or spot. 20He was chosen before the foundation of the world but revealed in these last times for your sake. 21Through him you are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God.

 

Jesus’ Resurrection Brings Us New Life

 

What is the point of a nation’s jail and prison system? You’ll find a lot of different opinions on that question. Some might say it’s to separate vulnerable people from dangerous people. Some might say it’s to inflict punishment on the wrongdoer. Some might say it’s to keep people in check—to keep people from doing bad things because they don’t want to endure the difficulty of time in jail. Still others will say that it should be about rehabilitation—a system set up to take someone who has gone down a wrong path to learn how to move forward in a different way.

That rehabilitation idea is where I’d like to center our thoughts this morning, not really on our criminal justice system, but on our faith. What is the point of Jesus’ resurrection? What is the point of God’s forgiveness? It’s rescue and rehabilitation. It’s a new life.

We heard in our Gospel how the two men walking to Emmaus from Jerusalem had a lot of confusion and heartache. While not part of the inner circle of the Twelve, these followers of Jesus had lost someone dear and precious to them. They likely had heard Jesus say that he must suffer, die, and rise from the dead, but they didn’t get it. They needed to have Jesus explain the plan to them that God had revealed through promise and prophecy throughout the Old Testament. (Oh, to be journeying along with that trio to hear Jesus explain everything about himself!)

In our Second Reading, Peter does a bit of that educating too. Writing decades after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, Peter has clarity about these things that he did not have in those first days and weeks after Jesus rose from the dead. From this vantage point, Peter can see and explain what the plan was: [Jesus] was chosen before the foundation of the world but revealed in these last times for your sake. God was not “winging it” when it came to the salvation of mankind. He had a plan in place from the beginning of time of how he would save mankind from their sin, just as Jesus said in the Gospel: “Did not the Christ have to suffer these things and to enter his glory?” (Luke 24:26). As we emphasized repeatedly during Lent and Holy Week, Jesus’ suffering and death was not a case of things spiraling out of control for him; everything from the Garden of Gethsemane to Pilate’s courtyard, to the cross, to the tomb was all as God had planned. He had to go through these things, this plan was put in place before the foundation of the world.

To what end? Peter explains: You were redeemed from your empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, not with things that pass away, such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like a lamb without blemish or spot… Through him you are believers in God, who raised him from the dead and gave him glory, so that your faith and hope are in God. This plan, Jesus’ death and resurrection, means forgiveness for you. Every sin is gone. You have been purchased for God, redeemed, with the priceless blood of the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. By God’s grace, you have trust in him as your Savior. Your faith is in God; your confident hope is in God. You fully lean on him.

And that means that you do not fear death—your grave will end up empty just like Jesus’! You do not fear punishment—Jesus took your punishment on himself! You do not fear God—he has shown you the full extent of his love as your dear heavenly Father and will bring you to himself in heaven!

So, what about rehabilitation? Peter began our reading this way: If you call on the Father who judges impartially, according to the work of each person, conduct yourselves during the time of your pilgrimage in reverence, because you know that you were redeemed from your empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers… Peter says that God’s work for you in Jesus should change your life, should rehabilitate you.

We received an empty way of life from our parents and their parents because from them we inherited a sinful nature. We inherited a nature that rebels against God, hates God, and fights against him. Peter’s word “empty” almost seems like an understatement, doesn’t it? It’s not just empty; it’s disastrous. It’s eternally condemning. That empty way of sin leads, ultimately, to hell.

So, Peter says, once we have come to know that we have been redeemed—bought back from the very jaws of eternal damnation with the precious blood of Christ—that should change us. It should rehabilitate us. It should lead us to live a life not governed by the sinful nature but governed by thanksgiving and joy to God. Peter describes that life as conduct[ing] yourselves during the time of your pilgrimage in reverence.

That phrase “the time of your pilgrimage” is fascinating. Peter is referring to our lives here on earth. Some translations talk about sojourning, some as a time of exile. Regardless of the English words we use, the point is clear. It’s a recognition that this life is not home. This life is not the ultimate that we have waiting for us. This life is what we have to get through for us to enjoy what God has really won for us, given to us, by Jesus’ death in our place.

But do we treat this life like that? Do we reject that empty way of life we inherited from our parents, or do we still find ourselves embracing it? Do we live differently than the unbelievers around us, or do we seek to blend in with them? Could someone identify you as a Christian not by your jewelry or badges attached to your car but by your words, your actions, your tone, your attitudes? Do you stand out like a sore thumb (in a good way!) in this world corrupted by sin, or do your words and actions look like everyone and everything else?

How has your life been in the two weeks since we got to celebrate the highest of high festivals in the Christian church—the resurrection of our Savior? Did our Easter celebrations change you? Did the message of Jesus’ resurrection empower you to live a very different life, or has it looked kind of the same as it was before? How present has sin been in your attitudes toward your neighbors, your friends, your family, or your coworkers? Would someone objectively looking at the past 14 days say, “Wow, that person has been rehabilitated!” Or would they cringe if they could see our words, actions, and thoughts of the heart laid out before them?

I really, really don’t want my heart laid bare before you all because of the great shame my sinful nature brings to me. I’m sure none of us would want a detailed listing of our attitudes and actions projected on a screen for the whole congregation to review. But this, my dear sisters and brothers, is where we have commonality. We may not have the same sins, but we all sin. We may not all have the same struggles, but we all struggle.

So, we have not conduct[ed] [our]selves during the time of [our] pilgrimage in reverence. Instead, we have often treated this life as if it’s the best and only thing we have coming, that this life is truly home. We have not behaved as if we were redeemed from [our] empty way of life handed down to [us] from [our] forefathers. Instead, we have often held up that way of life as delightful, fun, tantalizing, and full of value.

So, what now? Have we lost the hope God gave to us? Have we abandoned our redemption? Hardly! It was for this very reason that Jesus redeemed us with his blood. It was for this very reason that Jesus proved that redemption through his resurrection. You and I will not go through this life without sin—that is impossible. But we can make an effort to curtail it. We can make it a goal to not love sin and have it dominate our lives. We can make it our task to bring those sins to Jesus each and every day and say, “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

And what is Jesus’ response? “My dear child, I have had mercy on you. I have paid for your sins and they are gone. You will be safe with me in eternal life.” That does not change. For as many sins as we commit, those were the sins that Jesus paid for and redeemed us from. And if you want proof that it is so, we only need to hear the angels’ words again: “He is not here! He is risen!”

That redemption proved by his resurrection then leads us to a new life. Our lives will not be perfect, but we will hold on to that as a goal. We will wrestle with that inherited empty way of life until we are brought to our Savior’s side in eternity. But we will let a new life shine. We will let the words and comforts we’ve been reminded of here today impact our relationships and work ethic, our attitudes and our motivations. We will seek to live a life that doesn’t embrace sin but seeks to thank God for his forgiveness.

Our motivation to do what God wants is not simply because that is “right” and to do the opposite is “wrong.” No, we have far grander and loftier motivations. We live this new life to show our gratitude to God for his forgiveness. We most often express that gratitude through how we treat other people and even ourselves. We know our time of thanksgiving here is limited—we are but pilgrims, exiles, strangers in this life; heaven is our home. We will let our joy in that forgiveness and eternal life permeate our hearts and minds, every aspect of our lives.

My dear friends, conduct yourselves during the time of your pilgrimage in reverence, because you know that you were redeemed from your empty way of life handed down to you from your forefathers, not with things that pass away, such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like a lamb without blemish or spot. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen.

"Should We Seek to Be a 'Doubting' Thomas?" (Sermon on John 20:19-31) | April 16, 2023

Sermon Text: John 20:19-31
Date: April 16, 2023
Event: The Second Sunday of Easter, Year A

John 20:19–31 (EHV)

On the evening of that first day of the week, the disciples were together behind locked doors because of their fear of the Jews. Jesus came, stood among them, and said to them, “Peace be with you!” 20After he said this, he showed them his hands and side. So the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord.

21Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you! Just as the Father has sent me, I am also sending you.” 22After saying this, he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. 23Whenever you forgive people’s sins, they are forgiven. Whenever you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.”

24But Thomas, one of the Twelve, the one called the Twin, was not with them when Jesus came. 25So the other disciples kept telling him, “We have seen the Lord!”

But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands, and put my finger into the mark of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will never believe.”

26After eight days, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them. “Peace be with you,” he said. 27Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and look at my hands. Take your hand and put it into my side. Do not continue to doubt, but believe.”

28Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!”

29Jesus said to him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”

30Jesus, in the presence of his disciples, did many other miraculous signs that are not written in this book. 31But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

Should We Seek to Be a “Doubting” Thomas?

Maybe I’m just more aware of it than I was in the past, but it seems like the concepts of scams and being scammed have become more ubiquitous than it was in previous years. Perhaps that has come with the rise of the Internet’s ubiquity as well, that everyone is so connected that there are more channels to reach more people than ever before. So, people try to take advantage of other people by pretending to be someone they are not, presenting problems that are not real, and looking for resources they are not entitled to.

In an era so prone to scams and being deceived, we are right to be skeptical about things. Things that seem too good or too bad to be true should be double-checked. Does that person really have control of a multi-million-dollar inheritance coming to you from a relative in a foreign country? Probably not—especially if they need some cash upfront to get the process rolling. Is that relative of yours really in jail? Probably not—especially if they need gift card codes to get out.

This is not directly related to the sermon, but it is a big enough problem that it deserves its own side note: if you ever receive a call or an email or text message asking you to pay some bill or fine with gift cards or wire transfers, that is almost certainly a scam. Please do some due diligence to check on the claims that people are making. If a family member is supposedly in trouble, contact another family member to confirm—even if the person who originally called asks you not to tell anyone. A tactic used by these scams is to isolate people from anyone else who could clarify that what they are seeking is not real.

This morning we are presented with Thomas, who is often a bit vilified for his lack of trust in Jesus’ resurrection from the dead. But I think we can probably sympathize with him. After all, if ever there was anything that seemed too good to be true, would it not be that the dear friend who was brutally killed was now alive again? That doesn’t happen. That’s not logical. There’s no precedent for that.

On Easter Sunday evening, ten of the eleven disciples were together; the whole group was there except Thomas. Jesus made clear for all of them what a few had seen and what they had heard rumblings about: Jesus was alive! “Peace be with you!” was his greeting, which went back to his promise on Maundy Thursday evening to give the disciples peace, real peace, not worldly peace. Jesus was now able to grant that peace because he had died to pay for their sins and risen to life to show his victory. Jesus had brought true, lasting, eternal peace between God and sinful mankind—the disciples included!

Then Jesus had a task for them. They were to go and tell. They were to go and spread the news that Jesus had risen from death and that Satan had been defeated. He granted them not only the message but the ability to truly forgive sins in his name. On that Easter evening, Jesus was giving his disciples their marching orders that would be in place for the rest of their lives (and that govern the work of all Christians to this day). They would be witnesses of the forgiveness of sins won for mankind over the past three days.

The recipient of their first evangelism sermon was Thomas, “We have seen the Lord!” What joyous news! How glad that would’ve made all of them! But it wasn’t so joyous for Thomas. His response was cold and rational, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands, and put my finger into the mark of the nails, and put my hand into his side, I will never believe.”

Thomas had reason to doubt, didn’t he? Who could believe such a message? The rest of the disciples were all in varying states of faith, doubt, and confusion until Jesus appeared to them that first Easter night. Why would it be any different for Thomas? And what was the simplest explanation? Was it that Jesus had actually been raised from the dead or that his dear friends so desperately wanted their teacher back that they imagined—wanted to be true—Jesus’ resurrection? Thomas was skeptical—doubting—perhaps to not fall into the same emotional trap. Perhaps Thomas even saw himself as the connection to reality that the rest needed. He would be their rock while they processed their grief.

Do you treat the things you hear in our Bible Classes and from this pulpit with the same sort of skepticism? Do you react to a sermon the same way you react to an email saying that you’ve won a foreign lottery for millions of dollars—a lottery you never entered? Perhaps not, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t go looking for proof. You may trust your pastor, but that doesn’t mean you sit here on a Sunday morning accepting everything you hear, unfiltered, without a moment of critical thought. We all want to be students of the Word and go back to it to bolster what we believe so we are not deceived and so that we do not put our hopes and faith in the wrong place. We want to check with what God has actually said and ensure that what we’re hearing is accurate, that we’re being fed solid spiritual meals, not half-poison meals.

We have a scriptural example of this during Paul’s missionary work. After being run out of the city of Thessalonica, Paul went to the Macedonian city of Berea. He shared with the Jewish believers there that Jesus was the Messiah—come at last!—and that in him they had the forgiveness of sins and the certainty of eternal life. The Bereans were overjoyed at Paul’s message, but we’re told they received the word very eagerly and examined the Scriptures every day to see if these things were so (Acts 17:11).

Faith does not make things a reality, but faith leans and trusts in something real and concrete. Faith is only worthwhile if it’s trusting something reliable. Thomas’ friends could not, by their own wishing it was true, bring Jesus back from the dead. Thomas’ seeking to verify what he heard from his dear friends was not the problem. The problem was that Thomas had already received enough verification to support what they said and he chose to disregard it. He let his senses and feelings override the Word that had been spoken to him. More than once, long before Jesus died, he had promised his disciples: “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests, and experts in the law. He must be killed and be raised on the third day” (Luke 9:22). Jesus had told them that he would live out the sign of Jonah among them. Jesus had told them time and time again that exactly what Thomas’ friends were saying had happened would happen. And the word of Jesus should have been enough for Thomas.

And it should be enough for us too. But is it? When times are difficult, how easy is it for us to lean on Jesus’ promises to always rule all things for our good? Jesus said it; why do we struggle to believe it? When we’re feeling guilty about something we’ve done or left undone, do we always believe that Jesus has really forgiven those sins? Jesus said it; why do we struggle to believe it? When we’ve lost someone to death and we miss them terribly, but we know they died trusting their Savior, are we always completely confident that we will see them again in heaven, that as Jesus was raised, we all will also be raised? Jesus said it; why do we struggle to believe it?

We find ourselves often not taking God at his Word; we find ourselves wishing there was a sign or something to confirm what he’s said. God says, “I’ve promised these things to you.” And we, with Thomas, say, “No, that’s not enough. I need more proof.”

My brothers and sisters, you have the proof recorded in the pages of Scripture. The Bible is God’s love letter to you. It details every step along the path that God took to save you. From the first promise in the Garden of Eden to a manger in Bethlehem to a bloody cross at Golgotha to the empty garden tomb, this Word is your assurance of God’s love. This Word is your assurance of God’s care. This Word is your assurance that you have an almighty God who loves you and is protecting you from all danger. This Word assures us that every moment of doubt, every time we’ve not taken God at his Word or believed the promises he’s made to us, that has all been forgiven.

We do well to examine the Scriptures to check what we hear and what we feel. Are those things accurate to what God has said? In that sense, it’s not bad to be a skeptical Thomas, lest we believe and trust something that is untrue. But, when we find confirmation of those promises in the Word, let us not continue to doubt. Let us silence our conscience or our emotions or whatever would lead us to say God’s promises and words are not accurate, and let our hearts and minds be captive to the Word of God.

As we dig into that Word more and more ourselves, with our family, friends, and fellow Christians here at church, find the comfort that only the promises and work of the almighty God can bring. The one who has promised you everything is the sole being able to give it all to you. Cling to God’s promises, for he is trustworthy. The Holy Spirit builds your faith up with the very words that he himself recorded through the apostles and prophets, words that, as John said at the end of our Gospel: these words are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. As you cling to these promises of God, you will find yourself being the very people that Jesus mentioned to Thomas: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” You are blessed, you are happy, and you are loved, because Jesus has given you eternal life. His tomb didn’t stay occupied; neither will yours.

Hear the proof, see the proof, read the proof, rejoice in the proof, believe the proof, for it all comes from God. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen!

"The Sign of Jonah Means Grace Like Jonah" (Sermon on Jonah 2:2-9) | April 9, 2023

Sermon Text: Jonah 2:2-9
Date: April 9, 2023
Event: The Resurrection of Our Lord, Year A

 

Jonah 2:2–9 (EHV)

2He said the following:
In my distress I called to the Lord,
and he answered me.
From the belly of the grave I cried out,
and you heard my voice.
3You threw me into the depths,
into the heart of the seas.
The currents swept around me.
All your breakers and your waves swept over me.
4I said, “I have been driven away from your sight.
Nevertheless, I will once again look toward your holy temple.”
5Waters engulfed me so that I was near death.
The deep surrounded me.
Seaweed was wrapped around my head.
6To the roots of the mountains I sank down.
The earth locked me behind its bars forever.
But you brought my life up from the pit, O Lord, my God.
7When my life was ebbing away, I remembered the Lord.
My prayer came to you, to your holy temple.
8Those who cling to worthless idols forsake the mercy that is theirs.
9But I, with a shout of thanksgiving, will indeed sacrifice to you.
What I have vowed, I will certainly pay in full.
Salvation belongs to the Lord!  

The Sign of Jonah Means Grace Like Jonah

You may be familiar with the account of the prophet Jonah, but if not, let’s take a moment to review it. Jonah lived and worked in the early 700s BC. Jonah was called with a unique mission. He wasn’t called to God’s people; he was called to foreigners. He was called, actually, to the capital city of the dominant world superpower of the time. He was called to Nineveh, the capital of Assyria.

Jonah did not really like the idea of going to Nineveh and sharing God’s Word with them. He did not want to share the love of God with the enemies of his nation because he knew that God just might be gracious to them and forgive their sins. So, instead of beginning his journey east to Nineveh, Jonah hopped in a boat and went in the opposite direction to what God had told him—his destination was as far west as he could possibly get.

While on the boat, a great storm arose on the sea, so much so that it threatened the lives of everyone onboard. Through the casting of lots, God made clear that the reason for this horrendous storm was Jonah and his disobedience to God’s call. The unbelieving sailors tried everything to spare Jonah’s life and the lives of everyone else on board, but it was ineffective. The only solution was to throw Jonah overboard and, reluctantly, that is what they did. When Jonah hit the water “the sea stopped its raging” (Jonah 1:15).

Our First Reading for this festival Sunday is Jonah’s prayer after all this happened. God provided a huge fish to swallow Jonah whole and the words we read he prayed from the stomach of that large animal. After parts of three days in that stomach, God caused the fish to spit Jonah out onto dry land, and his life was spared. He then embarked on the work that God had called him to do.

The words of a disobedient, obstinate man might seem like a strange focus on a day like Easter. After all, aren’t we here to celebrate Jesus’ complete obedience? Aren’t we here to celebrate Jesus’ victory? Aren’t we here to celebrate Jesus’ perfection for us? So why do we have the words of such a reluctant and stubborn prophet before us?

We heard on Good Friday that Jesus had told the people of his day that the sign they would be given to prove Jesus’ power and authority would be the sign of Jonah. “Just as Jonah was in the belly of the huge fish for three days and three nights, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matthew 12:40). Jonah’s time of contemplation in that fish’s belly was a foreshadowing of the time that Jesus’ body would lie in the tomb.

But Jonah’s prayer is far more than just a precursor of Jesus’ resurrection. Jonah’s prayer shows the change of heart that he had. While Jonah’s work would be far from perfect after this, he recognized where he had strayed. As he sunk into the water (and probably during the storm on the boat), Jonah was forced to reckon with his sin. He had been disobedient to God, and he recognized what he deserved. He deserved to be cut off from God forever because that’s the just punishment for sin.

But Jonah’s brief prayer is chock full of God’s grace—God’s undeserved love—for him: In my distress I called to the LORD, and he answered me. From the belly of the grave I cried out, and you heard my voice…. To the roots of the mountains I sank down. The earth locked me behind its bars forever. But you brought my life up from the pit, O LORD, my God. When my life was ebbing away, I remembered the LORD. My prayer came to you, to your holy temple.

As Jonah sank into those waters, he knew what he deserved, and yet he also clearly recognized that that was not what God was giving him. He should be cut off from God forever, but he was being rescued. He should have died—both physically and eternally—but that’s not what was happening. God was rescuing him, preserving him, forgiving him.

My sisters, my brothers, we are Jonah. Maybe we haven’t literally hopped in a boat to go in the direct opposite direction God told us to travel, but we have done the opposite of what God expects us to do. God had said go right, and we have gone left; God has said go up, and we have gone down. Our lives are infected with sin from conception, and we are opposed to God. The greed, lust, selfishness, laziness, and self-righteousness that pervade our thoughts, words, and actions all mean that we deserve to be condemned to hell forever. And it's not just because the pile of sin is so large. Even one sin against the perfect, eternal God who demands perfection brings with it that eternal condemnation.

And so, in our sin, we are Jonah sinking to the bottom of the sea: Waters engulfed me so that I was near death. The deep surrounded me. Seaweed was wrapped around my head. To the roots of the mountains I sank down. The earth locked me behind its bars forever. We are just as helpless as Jonah was in the sea—even more so. We can do nothing to save ourselves or even to partially help ourselves. In our sin, we are lost.

And yet, here we are. We’ve journeyed to the tomb with the women, felt the earthquake, and heard the announcement of the angel, “He is not here. He has risen, just as he said” (Matthew 28:6). What does the resurrection of Jesus mean? What does the sign of Jonah mean for us? It means grace and mercy for you and me just as it meant for Jonah.

Jonah had confidence in his prayer. He said “I have been driven away from your sight. Nevertheless, I will once again look toward your holy temple.” Jonah, at that moment, would not have known if God would physically rescue him. But he had confidence that he would see God’s temple again—he trusted God’s promises. Perhaps God would save him physically and he would see Solomon’s temple in Jerusalem again. Or perhaps he would die there in the sea and he would be with God in heaven. Which was going to happen he did not know. But what he did know is that, live or die, he was safe with God.

Jesus’ resurrection means that we can face every moment of our lives with the same confidence. Will that bad thing go away? Maybe, but maybe not. Will life get easier for me? Maybe, but maybe not. But is God with me every step of the way? Absolutely. Will God ever abandon me? Never. Am I safe with my Savior? Beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Jesus’ death on the cross paid for every sin. He suffered the hell that we deserved because he loved us. And his resurrection from the dead proves that it worked, that the Father accepted his sacrifice on our behalf, which means we have been forgiven. We should have been abandoned by God, but, like Jonah, he saved us. We should have endured everlasting punishment for our sins, but, like Jonah, God took that punishment on himself. We should have drowned in despair, but, like Jonah, God has brought [our lives] up from the pit.

Jonah’s prayer ends with that clear statement of faith—Salvation belongs to the Lord! It belongs to him, and he has given it to us. We have done nothing to deserve his salvation, but he’s given it to us anyway. The sign of Jonah would prove Jesus’ faithfulness—his resurrection would show that he truly finished the work that his Father had given him to do to save us from our sins.

The sign of Jonah is our confidence as well. Our bodies will rest in the earth for some amount of time, until God raises us all to life again, reuniting body and soul. On that day, you and I and everyone who clings to Jesus as Savior by the faith that God alone gives will be brought to God’s perfect, eternal dwellings. We will stand with Jonah, knowing that we have all been forgiven by God’s grace, by his mercy, for us. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Amen!

"This Is the Lord's Gracious Plan" (Sermon on Isaiah 52:13-53:12) | April 7, 2023

Sermon Text: Isaiah 52:13-53:12
Date: April 7, 2023
Event: Good Friday

 

Isaiah 52:13—53:12 (EHV)

Look, my servant will succeed.
He will rise. He will be lifted up. He will be highly exalted.
14Just as many were appalled at him—
his appearance was so disfigured that he did not look like a man,
and his form was disfigured more than any other person—
15so he will sprinkle many nations,
and kings will shut their mouths because of him,
because they will see something they had never been told before,
and they will understand something they had never heard before.
53:1Who has believed our report,
and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed?
2He grew up before him like a tender shoot
and like a root from dry ground.
He had no attractiveness and no majesty.
When we saw him, nothing about his appearance made us desire him.
3He was despised and rejected by men,
a man who knew grief,
who was well acquainted with suffering.
Like someone whom people cannot bear to look at,
he was despised,
and we thought nothing of him.
4Surely he was taking up our weaknesses,
and he was carrying our sufferings.
We thought it was because of God
that he was stricken, smitten, and afflicted,
5but it was because of our rebellion that he was pierced.
He was crushed for the guilt our sins deserved.
The punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.
6We all have gone astray like sheep.
Each of us has turned to his own way,
but the Lord has charged all our guilt to him.
7He was oppressed, and he was afflicted,
yet he did not open his mouth.
Like a lamb he was led to the slaughter,
and like a sheep that is silent in front of its shearers,
he did not open his mouth.
8He was taken away without a fair trial and without justice,
and of his generation, who even cared?
So, he was cut off from the land of the living.
He was struck because of the rebellion of my people.
9They would have assigned him a grave with the wicked,
but he was given a grave with the rich in his death,
because he had done no violence,
and no deceit was in his mouth.
10Yet it was the Lord’s will to crush him
and allow him to suffer.
Because you made his life a guilt offering, he will see offspring.
He will prolong his days,
and the Lord’s gracious plan will succeed in his hand.
11After his soul experiences anguish, he will see the light of life.
He will provide satisfaction.
Through their knowledge of him, my just servant will justify the many,
for he himself carried their guilt.
12Therefore I will give him an allotment among the great,
and with the strong he will share plunder,
because he poured out his life to death,
and he let himself be counted with rebellious sinners.
He himself carried the sin of many,
and he intercedes for the rebels.

 

This Is the Lord’s Gracious Plan

 

It was almost like he was there. Did you have that feeling as we read those verses from Isaiah chapters 52 and 53 earlier in the service? Did it feel like Isaiah was standing at the foot of the cross, watching Jesus suffer and die, and writing it all down? He was despised and rejected by men, a man who knew grief, who was well acquainted with suffering. Like someone whom people cannot bear to look at, he was despised, and we thought nothing of him. Surely he was taking up our weaknesses, and he was carrying our sufferings. We thought it was because of God that he was stricken, smitten, and afflicted, but it was because of our rebellion that he was pierced. He was crushed for the guilt our sins deserved. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed. We all have gone astray like sheep. Each of us has turned to his own way, but the Lord has charged all our guilt to him. He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth. Like a lamb he was led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that is silent in front of its shearers, he did not open his mouth. He was taken away without a fair trial and without justice, and of his generation, who even cared? So, he was cut off from the land of the living. He was struck because of the rebellion of my people.

Isaiah’s words are vivid and accurate to the scene we hear about in the Gospels. It’s like he was there. Of course, he wasn’t there. Isaiah recorded those words by inspiration roughly 750 years before Jesus died. Separated by three-quarters of a millennium, Isaiah seemed like he was describing what he saw standing in Pilate’s courts and peering from the ground at the Son of God pinned between heaven and earth.

On the one hand, that’s not surprising, is it? I mean, if we truly hold to the teaching of verbal inspiration, that the words of the Bible are God’s perfect words written down by human authors, then of course, if God wanted to describe what was going to happen centuries in the future, he could easily do that.

But it’s not just the vividness of the details or the description of the suffering that stands out. It’s the deeper motivation and causality that Isaiah lays out for us that is more striking, and more important. It’s not just that his verbs like stricken, smitten, afflicted, and pierced can’t help but bring to mind the scourge, the nails, and the spear. But Isaiah’s words are clear as to why this happened. It was because of our rebellion that he was pierced. He was crushed for the guilt our sins deserved. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed…. the Lord has charged all our guilt to him…. He was struck because of the rebellion of my people…. Through their knowledge of him, my just servant will justify the many, for he himself carried their guilt…. He himself carried the sin of many, and he intercedes for the rebels.

Why are we here tonight? It’s not just to stand slack-jawed at the brutality and injustice of Jesus’ execution. We’re not just here in memory of someone who was killed and shouldn’t have been. No, we are here because we can see in his suffering and death exactly what we deserved. It should have been you, it should have been me, suffering the torment not just of crucifixion but much more so of hell—separation from God—as the true punishment that our rebellion against God deserved.

And yet here we are. We have the audacity to call this horrid day “Good” because we know what Isaiah knew. We know that the Messiah suffers not for his own sin, but for my sins, your sins, the world’s sins. The punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.

This was the Lord’s gracious plan all along. From the first promise in the Garden of Eden we heard that things were going to go badly for the Savior. Yes, he would crush the serpent’s—Satan’s—head and undo all of his work, but right there we are told that the Savior’s heel would be crushed in the process (Genesis 3:15). And while I would certainly take a crushed heel over a crushed head, it’s still a painful and frustrating wound.

Never was the Savior going to come and painlessly solve our sin. That was impossible. To solve sin, there needed to be death. And in order for all of us to not face eternal death in hell, the eternal Son of God had to face hell in our stead. That’s what happens when darkness swept the land on that first Good Friday. That’s what was happening as Jesus cried out to his Father, only to have his prayer fall on deaf ears. That’s what was completed when Jesus cried out “It is finished!” and gave up his spirit (John 19:30).

The Lord’s gracious plan was that Jesus suffer for our sins so that we won’t have to. He promised through Isaiah, “the Lord’s gracious plan will succeed in his hand.” That seems not true tonight. As we will hear of Jesus’ body being taken down from the cross and laid in a tomb, this looks like failure, not success. This looks like defeat, not victory. But Jesus made a promise to those of his day who wanted him to prove his authority through miraculous signs. He said, “Just as Jonah was in the belly of the huge fish for three days and three nights, so the Son of Man will be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matthew 12:40).

Without the resurrection, Jesus’ death is meaningless. We will gather once again in three days to see just how successful the Lord’s gracious plan was in Jesus’ nail-pierced hands. But for now, let’s simply take him at his word. His work is finished. The Good Shepherd laid down his life for wayward, sinful sheep. Our sin has been paid for. By his wounds we are healed. This is the Lord’s gracious plan. Amen.

"Here Comes the King of Glory!" (Sermon on Psalm 24) | April 2, 2023

Sermon Text: Psalm 24
Date: April 2, 2023
Event: Palm Sunday (The Sixth Sunday in Lent), Year A

 

Psalm 24 (EHV)

By David. A psalm.
1The earth is the LORD’s and everything that fills it,
the world and all who live in it,
2because he founded it on the seas,
and he established it on the rivers.
3Who may go up to the mountain of the LORD?
Who may stand in his holy place?
4He who has clean hands and a pure heart,
whose soul is not set on what is false, who does not swear deceitfully.
5He will receive blessing from the LORD
and righteousness from the God who saves him.
6Such are the people of Jacob who look for the LORD,
who seek your face.
7Lift up your heads, you gates.
Lift yourselves up, you ancient doors,
and the King of Glory will come in.
8Who is this King of Glory?
The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle.
9Lift up your heads, you gates. Lift up, you ancient doors,
and the King of Glory will come in.
10Who is he, this King of Glory?
The LORD of Armies—he is the King of Glory. 

Here Comes the King of Glory!

When I was younger, I can remember the wait that never seemed to end when company was on the way, especially grandparents. Sitting by the window, continually checking the driveway. Every car that went down the street, wondering, “Is that them? Did they get a new car?” Sadly, no; Grandma was never driving the giant pickup truck or the tricked-out sports car that both made enough noise to alert the whole neighborhood of the vehicle’s presence.

That feeling of waiting, of anticipation, is both stressful and wonderful. This morning on Palm Sunday, we have a lot of anticipation. Jesus’ arrival into Jerusalem brings a lot of thoughts and feelings. We’re anticipating the events of Holy Week that will resonate in the coming days; we’re looking forward to celebrating the victory that we know is coming; but we’re also looking forward to the true, final arrival of our King of Glory. So, this morning, let’s lift up our heads and pour our anticipation into meditation on Psalm 24.

It's not exactly clear when David wrote Psalm 24 or for what occasion. Some have theorized that it was for when the Ark of the Covenant came to the city of Jerusalem. Perhaps it was a psalm written with the idea that it would be used at the dedication of the temple when his son, Solomon, completed that project. Perhaps it didn’t have such a specific purpose as much as it was meant to celebrate God’s goodness, promises, and faithfulness to his people.

Regardless of the original purpose or idea behind it, the points made in the psalm are clear. David begins with a reminder of why we matter at all to God: The earth is the LORD’s and everything that fills it, the world and all who live in it, because he founded it on the seas, and he established it on the rivers. Why do we matter to the Lord? Because we are his dear creation. We are the people he made. As we’ve seen in our Bible study on Sunday mornings, human beings were created not just as part of the creation, but as the creation’s crown. More than the plants and animals, more than the mountains and rivers and oceans, and even more than the angels themselves, God created human beings as the most important part of creation and tasked us with taking care of it. You are important to God because he made you and you belong to him. And in a special way that goes beyond anything else in nature. As Jesus once observed comparing God’s care for us to his care for the rest of the world: “You are worth more than many sparrows” (Matthew 10:31).

This special status is something we do well to treasure and value. You are not an afterthought to God; you are his dear one! What great love he has for us!

David continues: Who may go up to the mountain of the LORD? Who may stand in his holy place? He who has clean hands and a pure heart, whose soul is not set on what is false, who does not swear deceitfully. And now we’re into something that might cause us some trouble and heartache. Who can approach God? Who can be with him? The person who has clean hands and a pure heart, whose soul is not set on what is false. If that isn’t the polar opposite of my life, I don’t know what is. My hands are filthy with sin; rebellion drips from my heart like a crude oil spill. Intentionally or unintentionally, I seek my own good or my own desires, even if it means trampling on others. I cling to lies that I want to believe about myself and others. I do not want to consider my sin.

If you are honest, you’ll see yourself that way too. None of us are the people God expects us to be or who he created us to be. We have fallen impossibly short of his standard of perfection. Thus, to apply David’s reasoning we are to be excluded from those who can go up to the mountain of the Lord and stand in his holy place. Our sin separates us from God, and we can’t do anything about it.

Thankfully, David doesn’t stop there: He will receive blessing from the LORD and righteousness from the God who saves him. Such are the people of Jacob who look for the LORD, who seek your face. Notice the preconceived notion here: the one who has clean hands and a pure heart is the one who will receive blessings from the Lord. But this same God is the one who gives righteousness, who saves him. When David spoke of people with clean hands and pure hearts, he wasn’t talking about people who could make that claim on their own. David knew as well as you and I that earning that, deserving that on our own, is an impossibility for every human being because every human being born since the Adam and Eve’s fall into sin has been born in sin. We all start out disqualified.

But though our sin separated us from God and ruined our relationship with him, God gave us his righteousness, a proper relationship with him. God, when he saved us, took away those sins and nailed them to the cross. We who were so unworthy to approach God are now worthy because God has washed our hands and purified our hearts. God makes us worthy to stand before him, to have a relationship with him, not because of what we have done, but because of what Jesus did for us, for Jesus is truly the LORD who gives blessing and righteousness, the God who saves us.

So, this morning, we stand with the crowd on the road as Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey. We join our voices in shouting, “Hosanna!”, a Hebrew word of praise that means, “Save us, please!” We wave palm branches, the ancient symbol of victory, as this King enters the city. Lift up your heads, you gates. Lift yourselves up, you ancient doors, and the King of Glory will come in. Who is this King of Glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, you gates. Lift up, you ancient doors, and the King of Glory will come in. Who is he, this King of Glory? The LORD of Armies—he is the King of Glory.

The King of Glory is the promised Messiah. The King of Glory is the covenant God of the Old Testament, Yahweh, or in our English Bibles, the all-capital-letters LORD. The King of the Glory is the one who promised to save us from sin and death. The King of Glory is one who did just that.

As we journey into this Holy Week, we will see the King of Glory do everything you and I needed him to do to save us from our sins. He enters amid shouts of praise, but the cries of “Crucify!” that people will shout later will be the nauseating way in which God rescues us. Because the King of Glory comes—to die. The gates receive him, only to see him leave their protection carrying a cross. Before this week is over, it will not be the gates of Jerusalem welcoming Jesus, but it will be the rough opening of a cave tomb that will receive his lifeless body. The King of Glory will look defeated, but we will hear from his own lips that this death means that his work is finished.

Because this is how you and I are washed and purified—not with soap and water but with the very blood of the King of Glory. His glory is not in his outward show of power, but in his self-sacrificing love that saved us. His glory is in paying for the sins of the whole world, including you and me. His glory is in his humility that he endured so that you and I would be exalted.

Holy Week will be a roller coaster. We will delight in the intimacy of Maundy Thursday—“this is my body… this is my blood… love one another.” We will struggle with greatly mixed emotions on that horrendous Friday that we dare to call “good” because we know that despite the horrid brutality of his suffering and death, there will be Jesus’ love for us as clear as it can be. There will be our victory in what appears to be his defeat. And then, a week from today, we will gather again, not in sorrow and anguish over the death of our Savior, but in shouts of praise that outshine the Palm Sunday shouts of “Hosanna!” more than the sun outshines the moon. On Palm Sunday, the praise is a request for the King of Glory to save us. On Easter? It will be praise and thanks that he did just that.

My dear brothers and sisters, here comes the King of Glory! Let’s follow him through this week to see what our sins cost him, a price he willingly paid. The King of Glory will triumph. The King of Glory will bring us into his glory forever. Amen.

"What Does the Promise of Resurrection Mean?" (Sermon on Romans 8:11-19) | March 26, 2023

Sermon Text: Romans 8:11-19
Date: March 26, 2023
Event: The Fifth Sunday in Lent, Year A

 

Romans 8:11–19 (EHV)

And if the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will also make your mortal bodies alive through his Spirit, who is dwelling in you.

12So then, brothers, we do not owe it to the sinful flesh to live in harmony with it. 13For if you live in harmony with the sinful flesh, you are going to die. But if by the Spirit you put to death the actions of the body, you will live.

14Indeed, those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. 15For you did not receive a spirit of slavery so that you are afraid again, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we call out, “Abba, Father!” 16The Spirit himself joins our spirit in testifying that we are God’s children.

17Now if we are children, we are also heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, since we suffer with him, so that we may also be glorified with him.

18For I conclude that our sufferings at the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us. 19In fact, creation is waiting with eager longing for the sons of God to be revealed.

 

What Does the Promise of Resurrection Mean?

 

 

We said at the beginning of the Lent season that the Sundays in Lent don’t “count.” That is, there are 40 days in Lent, as long as you don’t count the Sundays. And that’s because while the season of Lent is to be a somber and introspective time to contemplate our sin and the price Jesus paid to save us, and while some of that somberness does work its way into our Sunday worship, the Sundays in Lent are little respites, little springs of refreshing water. Some have even called the Sundays in Lent “little Easters.”

The idea of the Sundays in Lent being little Easters is perhaps no more apparent than this Sunday where the resurrection is front and center in our readings and our focus for worship. God showed how he had the power to undo death through Elisha to raise the only child of a family back to life. Jesus demonstrated his power over death when he raised Lazarus from the dead. And Paul in our Second Reading, which is our focus this morning, reminds us of the power of God’s resurrection within us.

But what does the promise of resurrection mean? What does it mean for right now? What does it mean for the future?

Paul attempts to put the resurrection in perspective for us. But, before we can truly appreciate resurrection, we need to wrestle with the reality of death. Death was not part of God’s original design for human beings. He did not create this world, this universe, with death and decay as a part of it. No, he created it to be perfect and flawless, a forever-union between God and the human beings he created, all enjoying the setting of the natural world.

But it didn’t stay that way. Death and decay came to creation through Adam and Eve’s sin. Their disobedience to God ruined everything and corrupted the creation to its very core. Because of them, death came into nature. Because of them, death came to people. As much as we might try to coddle ourselves with ideas like “death is just a part of life,” we know that this is just not true. Any death feels like an unnatural ripping and separation. Nothing about death seems right to us—because it’s not how we were designed.

Death is the wages—the paycheck—for sin. Our sin earns death. Death is most simply “separation,” so we can think of death as physical death—the separation of soul and body—and ultimately eternal death—the separation of a human being from God forever in hell. This is the result of Adam and Eve’s sin. This is the result of your sin and my sin.

But of course, resurrection is the opposite of death. Someone who has been resurrected has had death undone and, at that moment, death seems maybe not quite as powerful or inevitable as it once seemed. Prior to our Gospel, Jesus didn’t tell his disciples he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead; he told them, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I am going there to wake him up” (John 11:11). This says a lot about death as viewed from God’s perspective. While it needs to be solved, it is not something big, scary, and difficult. From God’s perspective, raising someone from the dead is no more cumbersome than waking someone from a light cat nap. 

And this is all fine and good—even if it sort of feels like we’re skirting closer to philosophy than theology. Is “resurrection” a nebulous, esoteric term that refers to something we just can’t pin down? Or is it something more solid, more concrete, more tangible than that description allows for?

Resurrection is the undoing of death, the undoing of separation. We mentioned two types of death before—physical and eternal—but there is a third kind of death: spiritual. Spiritual death is the way you and I were born. We were born living and breathing, but dead spiritually, because we lacked faith in God. We were set against God in our sin. Paul wrote to the Ephesians and observed, “You were dead in your trespasses and sins, in which you formerly walked when you followed the ways of this present world. You were following the ruler of the domain of the air, the spirit now at work in the people who disobey” (Ephesians 2:2). This spiritual death was a separation from God—not permanently as it would be in hell, but a very true separation by unbelief that you and I could not change.

If that was going to change, God had to change it. And change it he did. Through his Word and the sacraments, God created new life within you. He raised you from the death of unbelief and gave you a new life, a life that clings to Jesus as the solution to sin. Jesus paid for every sin to bring you spiritual resurrection. When he physically died on the cross, he suffered for each of your sins. When he physically rose from the dead, he proved his victory over sin and its wages, death.

So, what does the promise of resurrection mean? Well, first of all, it’s not just something that will come in the future; it’s something you and I have right now. If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, the one who raised Christ from the dead will also make your mortal bodies alive through his Spirit, who is dwelling in you. Because the Holy Spirit dwells in you, you are spiritually alive. You already have the spiritual resurrection from spiritual death because you no longer are slaves to sin in unbelief, but you live to God’s glory through the faith in Jesus that he has given you.

Secondly, Paul emphasizes that this resurrection means a new life lived today. This is not just head knowledge; it’s of the heart. Knowing your Savior affects the way you live even in this life: So then, brothers, we do not owe it to the sinful flesh to live in harmony with it. For if you live in harmony with the sinful flesh, you are going to die. But if by the Spirit you put to death the actions of the body, you will live. The one living in accord with God’s will is the one who trusts Jesus as Savior. A life of good works, of living the way God wants, is the natural consequence of thanksgiving for God’s free forgiveness. Living by the Spirit does make us forgiven, rather, because we are forgiven, we live by the Spirit. God’s forgiveness causes us to live as he wants in joy and thanksgiving to him.

This resurrection means that our status with God has changed. No longer are we dead in sin. No longer are we God’s enemies, fighting against him. No, through Jesus we have become God’s children. Indeed, those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery so that you are afraid again, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we call out, “Abba, Father!” The Spirit himself joins our spirit in testifying that we are God’s children. Because of Jesus, we call God Abba, an Aramaic word whose closest English equivalent is perhaps “Dada.” It’s the call of a young child who trusts his or her parent completely, who knows that he or she is loved, and who knows that he or she is cared for and safe. What a change! We have gone from being enemies of God to being his dearly loved children.

And even more than just a child, Paul says that you are God’s heir. When he raised us to life by faith, God made us heirs on equal footing with Jesus! This is, perhaps, the most baffling part of a wholly baffling concept. Jesus not only gave his life to pay for our sins that we committed against him when he had done nothing wrong to deserve any punishment, but he also then turns around and shares the inheritance that he alone deserves with us! Now if we are children, we are also heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, since we suffer with him, so that we may also be glorified with him.

Ah, and there’s the rub. We share in Jesus’ glory, we are his fellow heir, but we will also suffer along with him. Not for the same reason—we do not suffer to pay for anyone’s sins—but the life of a Christian is not one of perfect peace and joy in this life. We will have trouble in this life because of the sins we continue to commit; we will have trouble in this life because we simply live in a sinful world; we will have trouble in this life at times because we are Christians. Jesus told us that we would have to bear these crosses. He told his disciples just before he was betrayed, “In this world you are going to have trouble. But be courageous! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

So, suffering and hardship and heartache in this life is not a sign that you don’t have God’s resurrection. In fact, it’s a sign that you do. God uses these troubles to point us ahead to what is to come, to what is better, to what is perfect: I conclude that our sufferings at the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us. So great will life be in heaven that even the most difficult of times in this life will seem as serious as a dream that disappears when you wake up. In eternity, with Jesus, death will be fully gone, sin will be fully gone, hardship and sorrow will be fully gone—forever!

If these promises have us crying out to God, “How long until you fully rescue us?” that is exactly the point. The resurrection that we have now by faith leads us to long for the final and complete resurrection we will have at the last day. Our triumphing Savior will return; he will reunite souls and bodies and we will be with him as the complete people he originally designed us to be: no sin, perfect harmony with him, safe forever. Is it any wonder that Paul says creation is waiting with eager longing for the sons of God to be revealed? Even the creation around us longs to be released from the corruption of sin; that will happen at the end, at the founding the new heavens and the new earth.

What does the promise of resurrection mean? The promise of resurrection means you have been raised from the death of unbelief by the faith God gives to trust Jesus as your only and complete Savior from sin. The promise of resurrection means that you can live in this new life, right now, praising and thanking God for his gift. The promise of resurrection means that you know you have the complete forgiveness of every sin, which means that in the end you will be rescued not just from physical death at the final resurrection, but you will be rescued from eternal death as God brings you to heaven for Jesus’ sake.

The promise of resurrection means only good. As we continue the final walk with Jesus to the cross, as we look ahead to the garden tomb, remember the one who called Lazarus out from the grave. This same Savior will call you and me from our graves as well, to be with him forever at peace in heaven. Thanks be God! Amen.

"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.

Gloria Dei is a  member congregation of the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod.