"Grace and Peace Enrich Us until Jesus' Advent" (Sermon on 1 Corinthians 1:3-9) | December 3, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Date: December 3, 2023
Event: The First Sunday in Advent, Year B

1 Corinthians 1:3-9 (EHV)

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ!

4I always thank my God for you because of the grace of God given to you in Christ Jesus. 5You were enriched in him in every way, in all your speaking and all your knowledge, 6because the testimony about Christ was established in you. 7As a result you do not lack any gift as you eagerly wait for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ. 8He will also keep you strong until the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. 9God is faithful, who called you into fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Grace and Peace Enrich Us Until Jesus’ Advent

You know those feelings of anticipation you get when something big is coming up? Maybe it’s something really good, so you are impatient and counting the days, hours, and minutes until it’s time. Or, maybe it’s something you’re really dreading and feels like a storm cloud hanging over you constantly.

The season of Advent could be characterized by the word “anticipation.” Advent by itself just means “arrival.” It’s a season where we are preparing to celebrate Jesus’ first arrival that we mark with Christmas, but we also keep our eyes looking for his second coming, when Jesus will return.

Now, depending on your perspective, the thought of the almighty Creator of the universe bringing an end to this life may seem really good—and thus fill you with impatience until that day arrives—or it may be something you are really dreading and perhaps don’t even want to think about.

In our Second Reading for this morning, the apostle Paul encourages us to see in Jesus a joyful return to rescue us and note that he keeps us anticipating it and readies us for it. We need not fear—Jesus will return, and for us, that will mean rescue.

This first letter to the Corinthians is not exactly the happiest of letters. The members of this congregation had a lot of problems. They had divisions that fractured along the lines of loyalty to different teachers and pastors, as well as along the lines of socioeconomic classes—the rich enjoyed luxuries and were happy to leave the poor to go hungry. They tolerated obscene sexual immorality in their congregation and were even proud of it! They abused the Lord’s Supper and did spiritual harm to themselves.

Despite the really troublesome things that Paul needs to address with them, the opening of this letter is very positive. Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ! I always thank my God for you because of the grace of God given to you in Christ Jesus. You were enriched in him in every way, in all your speaking and all your knowledge, because the testimony about Christ was established in you. As a result you do not lack any gift as you eagerly wait for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ. He has such positive things to say! How can he be so positive and upbeat when there are so many problems?

There were indeed many concerns in the congregation, but Paul focuses on the positive here. To begin with, they have God’s grace and peace, which has positively affected them. They have a base to build off of to address the problems because they have the foundation of God’s love for them.

It would be good for us to spend a couple of moments considering those words we hear so often, that they can sometimes lose their meaning: grace and peace. Grace is what we sometimes define as the undeserved love of God. It’s love from God that we don’t deserve and, in fact, gives us the opposite of what we deserve. The Corinthians needed God’s grace because their sin separated them from God and brought hell on them. The same is true for us. Our sin, our active rebellion against God, deserves nothing but hell, eternal separation from God.

We don’t have to look far in our lives to see that sin, but as we start this new church year and have a fresh run at Advent’s preparation, maybe our minds specifically think about the times in the past (or even today!) when we’ve been apathetic in our approach to spiritual matters and lax in our preparation for eternity. Maybe we’ve let the worries and cares of this life crowd eternity out of our minds. Maybe we’ve prioritized our will over and above God’s will. Maybe we’ve let that time in God’s Word be something we’ll do “later” rather than something we’re actively doing now.

But God’s grace means we don’t need to dwell or fret over those sins. Real as they were and are, we also know that they are forgiven. God’s undeserved love for us in Jesus means that he has removed our sins. Sin brought hell on our heads; God’s grace gives us heaven in its place.

This is why Paul could be so joyful and thankful for the Corinthians and to God despite the massive problems wreaking havoc in that congregation. Were there things to be dealt with? Yes. Were they impossible to work through? No. Was there forgiveness in Jesus for these sins? Most assuredly.

The results of grace lead to peace. We are at a time in the world’s history where, once again, we long for peace between nations. The wars and rumors of wars that Jesus said would accompany us to the end of time on this planet are clearly not just theoretical as nations batter and destroy each other. Calls for ceasefires and peace fill news articles, political speeches, and prayers of God’s people. And while God may grant that peace and halt to fighting, we do know that it is only temporary because every person on this earth is a sinner and that sin means there will never be true, lasting peace between peoples and nations.

But, peace with God is different. Sin is conflict, war, with God. But in Jesus, God brings peace between himself and us. In not too many weeks, we will hear the angels announce to the shepherds that the newborn lying in a feeding trough means “peace, good will toward mankind” (Luke 2:14). This isn’t a temporary peace. It’s not peace that will last only as long as the terms of a treaty or until the hurt or greed of one group causes them to lash out at another. No, this peace that God’s grace brings about is permanent and eternal.

In Jesus’ life and death in our place, we have this true peace of God. Because Jesus’ work forgives and removes our sins, he does away with our natural hostility toward God. And because the hostility of our sins is gone, the just anger of God over our sins and the need to punish us for them disappears. The peace Jesus brings is the peace that means we will not be at odds with God but in harmony with God forever when he calls us from this world of sin to himself in heaven.

Thanks be to God for all of this! But what do we do now? We’ve talked a lot about future things or at least things that we will fully experience in the future—how does this affect our day-to-day life until God brings us home to heaven? How do we prepare during this Advent season and throughout our lives? Let’s consider what Paul said to the Corinthians: You were enriched in him in every way, in all your speaking and all your knowledge, because the testimony about Christ was established in you. As a result you do not lack any gift as you eagerly wait for the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ. He will also keep you strong until the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, who called you into fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Paul says this gospel message of sins forgiven in Jesus had a tangible effect on the Corinthians. It obviously wasn’t perfect as they all still struggled with sin in very real, public ways, but the message of God’s love, his grace, and peace meant that they were enriched in every way, in all [their] speaking and all [their] knowledge. Jesus' forgiveness changed them for the better.

And that means that they were blessed with gifts, not necessarily physical, earthly wealth, but with spiritual gifts. Whether that meant the ability to teach or speak in tongues or lead or simply and foundationally the gift of faith in Jesus as Savior, these blessings were a gift from God and showed that God was faithful to what he had promised. They had the forgiveness of sins; heaven was theirs.

And despite the difficult conversations that Paul will have with the Corinthians in the chapters that follow this initial greeting, he is confident that he will also keep you strong until the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, who called you into fellowship with his Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord.

So what do we do now? How do we prepare? How do we let our Advent anticipation express itself? Let God do his work. Through his Word and the sacarments, God builds us up in our faith so that we cling to him more completely. We are properly prepared to celebrate Jesus’ first Advent when we can see the spiritual, eternal blessings that God will work through this still-little child. We are prepared for Jesus’ second Advent when we have those same blessings at the forefront of our minds: despite being a sinner, you and I have God’s grace and peace. We will be in heaven forever.

So let God work on your hearts through his Word, as he promised. Surround yourself in it here at worship, in Bible class, in home devotions, and in quiet time of meditation on his promises and faith-driven prayer as a response to those promises. To prepare for the future is to let God prepare you. Your forgiveness is his work. Your faith is his work. Your life of thanksgiving is his work in you.

My dear brother, my dear sister. You have the grace of God, the free gift of his forgiving love. That grace has resulted in eternal peace with your Creator. God is faithful. He will keep you strong until the end. And until that end comes, let your focus be on him and his forgiving love for you. Amen.

"Your King Is Triumphant" (Sermon on 1 Corinthians 15:20-28) | November 26, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Corinthians 15:20-28
Date: November 26, 2023
Event: Christ the King, Year A

1 Corinthians 15:20-28 (EHV)

But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. 21For since death came by a man, the resurrection of the dead also is going to come by a man. 22For as in Adam they all die, so also in Christ they all will be made alive. 23But each in his own order: Christ as the firstfruits and then Christ’s people, at his coming. 24Then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father, after he has done away with every other ruler and every other authority and power. 25For he must reign “until he has put all his enemies under his feet.” 26Death is the last enemy to be done away with. 27Certainly, “he has put all things in subjection under his feet.” Now when it says that all things have been put in subjection, obviously that does not include the one who subjected all things to him. 28But when all things have been subjected to him, then the Son himself will also be subjected to the one who subjected all things to him, in order that God may be all in all. 

Your King Is Triumphant

There is a lot of confusion today about the Bible’s relation to government. Some hold the misguided idea that a nation's laws should perfectly mirror God’s standards for right and wrong, with the mistaken assumption that if we just create a nation of outwardly moral people, we’ve done the work that God has tasked us to do. And yet, the separation of church and state is a real and biblical thing. God has tasked the government to care for physical matters and the church to care for spiritual matters; mixing those two up can be very dangerous.

But that can make a day like today, Christ the King Sunday, seem slightly off. The concept of a king is obviously very tied to earthly governments. Even if we’ve never lived in a monarchy, we get the idea, and we can see the parallels between a king or a queen ruling a nation and other systems of government that we have more direct experience with. So then when we call Jesus our King, we might start confusing roles. We know that Jesus is not the leader of a nation here on earth. While he is concerned for our physical well-being, we know he is far more concerned about our eternal good. So, in many ways, a proper biblical understanding of Jesus doesn’t match our notions about what a king is or does.

But, if we think of a king’s prime responsibility in protecting his people from danger and enemies, then things start to click into focus. Jesus is certainly concerned with the things that threaten us, especially spiritually. We have plenty of enemies vying for our souls—sin, death, and hell. And so Jesus, as our King, doesn’t rule a plot of ground on this planet as an earthly government, but he protects and rescues us from our spiritual enemies.

In a life filled with humility, our Gospel reading takes us to perhaps the least regal moment of Jesus’ life. The soldiers put a scarlet robe (Matthew 27:28) on him. While other Gospel accounts of this scene call it a “purple” robe (cf. Mark 15:17, John 19:2), it’s probably best to put purple in those instances in quotation marks. Purple was an incredibly expensive dye in those days, often only worn by royalty. But scarlet dye was cheap. It would have been among the standard military-issued things the Roman soldiers had on hand. So, in this mockery of respect, a cheap, crummy piece of cloth as a stand-in for a very expensive garment made a lot of sense.

And here, with his ridiculous scarlet garment, a crown on his head not as a sign of dignity and power but piecing his skin, and a hunk of wood shoved into his hand as a staff, the soldiers paid “homage” to Jesus. We heard them proclaim their mocking respect, “Hail, King of the Jews!” (Matthew 27:29). They beat him in the head with the staff they put into his hands, and then, the most chilling words of that whole account, “They led him away to crucify him” (Matthew 27:31).

“Christ the King” indeed, huh? You know how the rest of that day went. The one the people hoped was the promised Savior, the Messiah, carried his own cross until physically he just couldn’t, to a hill outside of Jerusalem where the soldiers nailed him to that same hunk of wood and lifted him up, suspended between heaven and earth. There, he refused the numbing agents offered to him and suffered agony upon agony until finally, with a word of completion and plea to his heavenly Father, Jesus died.

Some of his friends took his lifeless body and laid it in a tomb. They didn’t even have time to finish the work because sundown was coming, the beginning of the Sabbath. They couldn’t do any work, so they had to leave some preparations for early Sunday morning.

Nothing about this looks powerful or regal. At best, it looks like a man who got caught up in things he couldn’t control and then was killed. At worst, it looks like a criminal getting what the government at the time decided was fitting for his crimes. Either way, Jesus, the supposed king, died.

But the following Sunday morning didn’t go as anyone anticipated. When the women went to the tomb to finish preparing his body for burial, they found the large stone already rolled away from the mouth of the grave, and Jesus’ body was not there. And then the rumors started circulating. Some said the disciples had come and stolen his body, while others reported having seen Jesus alive—raised from the dead! This, like it would seem to you and me today, seemed impossible.

People don’t come back from the dead. We know that. We’ve lost loved ones, and they haven’t broken free from their tombs; their bodies rest where they were laid weeks, years, or decades earlier. And so the whole concept of the resurrection of the dead seems ridiculous to our experience; it seems impossible.

And that’s the notion that Paul was addressing with the Corinthians. In the verses just before our Second Reading this morning, Paul addressed the idea floating around that congregation that there was no resurrection of the dead. He said this: “Now if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how is it that some among you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? If there is no resurrection of the dead, not even Christ has been raised. And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is pointless, and your faith is pointless too… if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins. Then it also follows that those who fell asleep in Christ perished. If our hope in Christ applies only to this life, we are the most pitiful people of all” (1 Corinthians 15:12-14, 17-19).

Why does the impossibility of the resurrection of the dead and, thus, the impossibility of Jesus rising from the dead mean that our faith is in vain and we are still trapped in our sins? Because there was a whole lot more going on at the cross than it appeared at first glance. Jesus never suffered for things he did wrong, nor was he caught up in things he couldn’t control. This gruesome death by crucifixion was part of the King’s plan all along. Because this was not just an execution for crimes committed by Jesus or falsely attributed to him. No, this crucifixion, this death, was our King protecting us from our enemies.

As Jesus suffered on the cross, the horrific physical pain of crucifixion was almost nothing compared to the spiritual torment that he endured. Because there on the cross, God punished Jesus for every sin ever committed by every person who had ever lived or ever would live. Those sins brought with them the punishment of hell, and on the cross, Jesus suffered that hell for us. He put himself in our place and took on the eternal death that you and I deserved.

And Jesus’ resurrection is proof that it worked. Jesus had promised that he would die and rise—just as the Old Testament Scriptures had promised. If he had not risen from the dead, that would have meant that something went horribly wrong and Jesus’ goal was not accomplished. But his actual, physical resurrection from the dead means that everything he promised to do is finished. In our Second Reading, Paul explained it this way: But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For since death came by a man, the resurrection of the dead also is going to come by a man. For as in Adam they all die, so also in Christ they all will be made alive. But each in his own order: Christ as the firstfruits and then Christ’s people, at his coming.

Here, Paul points us to Jesus’ true work as our King. My brothers and sisters, Jesus conquered your enemies. Sin, death, and hell were all defeated at his cross, and the proof is in the empty cave with its folded-up linens. Jesus’ resurrection is proof that your King was triumphant for you. He defeated every spiritual enemy you had and assures you that because of him, you will have an eternal, perfect life with him in heaven.

Jesus, your King, was triumphant. Jesus, your King, still reigns. He is still guarding everything for your good—even when it doesn’t feel that way. He is still watching over you. And he will return for you. Then comes the end, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father, after he has done away with every other ruler and every other authority and power. For he must reign “until he has put all his enemies under his feet.” Death is the last enemy to be done away with. On that day, when your King returns, he will rescue you as he puts all his enemies, including death, under his feet. You will be freed from death because your King reigns. Never again will there be hunger, sickness, sorrow, or pain, just peace with our King forever.

Our King, Jesus, does not have in mind to make this life or this earthly nation a perfect place. In many ways, he allows hardship and trouble in this life to remind us that this is not the be-all, end-all of his plan for us. In this chaotic world, corrupted by sin, it might not seem like you have an almighty King ruling for you—but look to his cross and empty tomb to see his triumph.

And watch for his return, at any time, when he will make clear that all authority and power has been placed under his feet, that hell has no claim on us, that death is truly just a nap, and that all those who have died will follow Jesus, the firstfruits. Just as the first piece of fruit on the tree points to many more to come, Jesus' resurrection also points to our own resurrections, where we will follow the pattern Jesus set. We will be raised not to die again eventually but to be freed from death’s threats forever. On that day, Jesus will bring all of us to be with him in the eternal life he won for us with his blood.

Come quickly, King Jesus! Amen.

"Be Prepared!" (Sermon on Matthew 25:1-13) | November 11, 2023

Sermon Text: Matthew 25:1-13
Date: November 11, 2023
Event: Proper 27, Year A

Matthew 25:1-13 (EHV)

“At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. 2Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. 3When the foolish ones took their lamps, they did not take any oil with them; 4but the wise took oil in their containers with their lamps. 5While the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep. 6But at midnight there was a shout, ‘Look, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him!’ 7Then all those virgins got up and trimmed their lamps. 8The foolish ones said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil because our lamps are going out.’ 9But the wise answered, ‘No, there may not be enough for us and for you. Instead, go to those who sell oil and buy some for yourselves.’ 10But while they were away buying oil, the bridegroom came. Those who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet, and the door was shut. 11Later, the other virgins also came and said, ‘Lord, Lord, let us in.’ 12But he answered, ‘Amen I tell you: I do not know you.’ 13Therefore, keep watch, because you do not know the day or the hour.”

Be Prepared!

Are you a planner and preparer, or do you tend to fly by the seat of your pants? Do you write down every upcoming event on a large calendar in your kitchen, or do you assume you can keep it all in your head? Both are ways of preparing, but one is likely more manageable than the other. But, if you can give yourself enough time and remember to do what you need to do, then everyone’s own system serves the purpose.

The problem comes when you don’t keep track of it all. Something slips your mind, you didn’t write something down on your list, or you neglected to look at your list one last time to remind yourself what needs to be done, and then you’re stuck. Whether it’s packing for a trip, finishing a project for school, having an important conversation with a loved one, or even just packing your lunch for work, being unprepared can lead to some difficult situations and awkward moments.

In our Gospel for this morning, Jesus is talking about preparation, but not simply about earthly things; he’s zeroing us in on being prepared spiritually. He is reminding us that right now is our time to prepare for eternity. So we know we should be prepared, but how?

Jesus uses a parable with ten virgin attendants at a wedding celebration. They needed to be ready to receive the bridegroom and enter the celebration whenever he arrived. And while one might assume that he would come at any moment, all ten women bring oil lamps to light the darkness if it got late. But only five thought ahead and brought extra oil, while the other five brought just what was in the lamp itself. That meant their lamps were out when the bridegroom was returning. Because they were unprepared and off buying more oil when he came back, they missed the entry into the wedding celebration, and when they arrived late, the answer from the bridegroom was stark: “Amen I tell you: I do not know you.”

Jesus says this is all a picture of the kingdom of heaven, and while we might automatically think of eternal life itself when we hear that phrase, far more often, Jesus is speaking about his rule in our hearts by faith right now rather than eternal life. Certainly, saving faith leads to eternal life, but Jesus focuses on us in the here and now so that we are prepared for the eternal.

So, spiritually, we want to have enough oil in our lamps. What does that mean? How do we now prepare for eternal life? We don’t know when we will face eternity because we do not know when we will die, nor do we know when Jesus will return. Jesus was clear: you do not know the day or the hour. Even if someone guesses when the end of the world will be, it’s just a guess and almost assuredly a wrong guess.

So, since we don’t know if Jesus is returning today or 2,000 years from now, and we don’t know if our life has many years or months or even just hours left, it means that we want and need to be prepared now. How do we prepare for Jesus’ return? How do we prepare for our deaths? How do we prepare for eternity?

In part, the answer is right here, right now. The thing we need to be ready is faith that Jesus is our Savior, trusting that he truly forgave every sin and has given us eternal life as a free gift. But, it can be easy for us to be the women with their lamps but no oil in reserve. We could have the look of preparedness—maybe we were baptized, confirmed, or married in a church, but we haven’t done much with it since then. Perhaps we find confidence because our names are on the membership rolls of a Christian church, even though we rarely go. Or maybe, even more insidious, is that we appear to be ready with our lamp in hand because we are in church regularly, but we don’t let anything said or shared here have an impact on our lives; we come here to “give God an hour” and then off we go to the rest of our week, doing whatever we want to do without a thought or care about God’s will or his love for us.

Having a lamp with no oil can be dangerous because we can trick ourselves into thinking we’re set or put our confidence in the wrong thing, and thus be lost.

So, how do we ensure that our lamps are full of oil and have plenty in reserve? How do we ensure we are prepared for whenever we enter into eternity? The answer is still right here. Through his Word and sacraments, God gives and strengthens faith, the oil in Jesus’ parable. So, first and foremost, to be prepared, we want to surround ourselves with the means that God uses to create and sustain faith.

That means gathering with your fellow Christians for worship regularly. That likely also means having the Word in your home through devotions like the Meditations booklets or a Bible reading plan to allow God’s flawless and powerful Word to work deep into our hearts not just once a week but daily.

What does a prepared heart look like? It’s a heart that knows that you can do nothing to save yourself. It’s a heart that knows that you are a sinner and deserve hell for that sin. It’s a heart that trusts that Jesus did everything you needed him to do to rescue you when he lived a perfect life in your place and died on the cross to pay for every single sin you and everyone else has ever committed. It’s a heart that trusts that Jesus will return and open the door to that wedding banquet, and you will be brought in because of his love and mercy for you.

All of that is internal. Are there external ways to see this preparation? While we cannot do anything to earn God’s love, forgiveness, or eternal life, the way we live our life reflects the preparation, that faith, in us. The way you treat others is a reflection of your preparation. How you respect the leaders God has placed over you in your home, church, and government reflects your preparation. The way you think of sin in general—whether as something to be sought after or something to be avoided—is a reflection of your preparation. Your faith should affect your life; your time in God’s Word should affect what you do and why you do it. Your faith brings forth a life of good works in thanksgiving to God because he’s forgiven your sin and given you eternal life.

Tending to your faith with God’s Word and sacraments and letting that produce a real, ongoing change in our lives is what it means to be prepared. Ever focused on Jesus as our one and only Savior and living our lives in thanksgiving to him for rescuing us from sin, death, and hell is how we keep our lamps lit and continue to ensure we have plenty of oil to last. That is precisely what Isaiah meant in our First Reading when he urged us to “Wake, awake!” (Isaiah 52:1). Likewise, this is what Paul meant in our Second Reading when he urged the Thessalonians and us, “Let us not sleep like everyone else, but rather let us remain alert and sober (1 Thessalonians 5:6).

As I look at my life, I see so many times when I have not remained spiritually alert and sober. I have drifted to sleep in complacency and apathy. I have been drunk on my sin and my desires, caring little for what others, including God, wanted. I have been selfish and thoughtless. I had no oil in my lamp.

And while it is easy to let guilt for those times be crushing, God would have us see a different way forward. Rather than seeing all those times as reasons I am unprepared, I can look at those times and see God’s grace and forgiveness that wipe out those sins. I can see his love for me as preparing me for eternity when I, on my own, was wholly unprepared. Paul’s words to the Thessalonians resonate loudly in the picture Jesus paints with his parable. Consider once again how he concluded our Second Reading: You see, God did not appoint us for wrath, but for obtaining salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. He died for us, so that whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. Therefore, encourage one another and build each other up, just as you are also doing (1 Thessalonians 5:9-11).

There, Paul sums up everything we want to remember as we look forward to our time entering eternity: God has given us complete salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, even for all of those times when we weren’t preparing for eternity as we should have. Whether alive in this life or asleep in him, we are safe because of his death and resurrection. And while we are here, let us encourage one another to be the wise women with oil to spare. Let’s encourage each other in this deeply personal yet communal task of preparing for the end because that’s why God has given us to each other.

My brothers and sisters, how do you prepare for eternity? You let God do everything you needed. While rejoicing in what he’s done, stay awake, keep watch, keep your lamps trimmed and burning, for your Bridegroom, your Savior, will return. Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.

"These People Dressed in White… Who are They?" (Sermon on Revelation 7:9-17) | November 5, 2023

Sermon Text: Revelation 7:9-17

Date: November 5, 2023

Event: All Saints’ Day (Observed), Year A

Revelation 7:9–17 (EHV)

After these things I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language, standing in front of the throne and of the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and with palm branches in their hands. 10They called out with a loud voice and said:

Salvation comes from our God, who sits on the throne, and from the Lamb.

11All the angels stood around the throne, the elders, and the four living creatures. They fell on their faces before the throne and worshipped God, 12saying:

Amen. Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and might belong to our God forever and ever. Amen.

13One of the elders spoke to me and said, “These people dressed in white robes, who are they and where did they come from?”

And I answered him, “Sir, you know.”

14And he said to me:

These are the ones who are coming out of the great tribulation.

They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

15Because of this they are in front of the throne of God,

and they serve him day and night in his temple.

He who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them.

16They will never be hungry or thirsty ever again.

The sun will never beat upon them, nor will any scorching heat,

17for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd.

He will lead them to springs of living water.

And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

These People Dressed in White… Who are They?          

Perhaps you’ve heard this expression before, “This life is as close to heaven as the unbeliever will ever get; this life is as close to hell as the believer will ever get.” It’s a touch glib, but there is some truth to it. If hell stands waiting at the end of this life, things will never be better for someone than they are right now. But, if heaven stands waiting at the end of this life, things will never be worse than they are right now.

On a festival like All Saints’ Day (or its close parallel “Saints Triumphant” in our previous hymnal’s lectionary), we are very focused on the life beyond this life, not just for those who have gone ahead of us into eternity, but for all of us as well as we look through the fog of this sinful, corrupt world and long for relief, long for peace, long for God to dab every tear away from our eyes.

Yes, it’s a bit presumptuous to think that we would be in heaven when we look at our lives. How have you done? Have you lived your life well? Have you done the absolute best that you can every single moment of every single day? The answer to both of those questions is undoubtedly “No,” but then again, it doesn’t matter. Those are not the questions God has for us. God’s question is much more restrictive and, for us, impossible, “Have you been perfect?” Not just pretty good, not just tried your best, not just better than most other people, but perfect, flawless in your obedience to God’s commands.

We know that sin, any sin, even something we would call “small,” disqualifies us from eternal life. So, no matter how hard we try, no matter how good we end up being, there is no hope of us getting to heaven on our own. Sin separates us from God and brings his wrath down on us; your sinful life and mine rightly deserve hell as punishment for our sin against God.

That’s where we are by nature: nothing good and a hopeless eternal future. But, this morning, let’s take a bit of a journey with the apostle John and look at what God allowed him to see. The book of Revelation is almost entirely picture language, symbols and images portraying what God teaches elsewhere in his Word in dramatic fashion. In our first reading this morning, we have one of the most famous of those images or visions in the entire book. John does get a glimpse of heaven and those who are there. By nature, we ask ourselves, “Who could possibly have made the cut? I won’t make it, but I know no one else will either!” So, we do well to look and listen to what John sees and hears.

John introduces us to what he sees: After these things I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people, and language, standing in front of the throne and of the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and with palm branches in their hands. There’s a lot here. Let’s unpack it a bit.

First, John sees a great multitude of people from all over the world. This is not an intimate little group; this is a group beyond number. This is not a tiny club of some really “good” people; this is a vast throng from every place on earth. They’re all there in front of the Lamb—a picturesque description of Jesus, whom John the Baptist called “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). They’re wearing white robes and holding palm branches. We know that palm branches were a symbol of victory and conquering. The people waved palm branches as Jesus entered Jerusalem because they saw him as a conquering Christ, and they were right, even if some may have misunderstood what enemies he was coming to conquer.

So, this huge crowd of people wearing gleaming garments gather around Jesus with signs of victory in hand. This is not a scary scene; this is a joyous gathering. Perhaps we, as sinners, begin to find some vague sense of hope. But things continue to unfold:

John hears this great crowd praising God with these words: Salvation comes from our God, who sits on the throne, and from the Lamb. This resonates with what we already knew, doesn’t it? We can’t get rid of our sin, we can’t save ourselves, and here the crowd celebrates that salvation belongs to God alone. And while the sinner’s ears perk up at the sounds of words like forgiveness or salvation, it still doesn’t answer those fundamental questions: How could I benefit from that? Would God ever give me some of that salvation that belongs to him? Or does he hold it for himself and leave me to suffer the just punishment for my sins? The angels’ and elders’ doxology doesn’t help us too much either, as it heaps praise on God that would be true regardless of our eternal destination: Amen. Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and might belong to our God forever and ever. Amen. God can be praised, thanked, honored, and have great strength, all while we suffer eternally for our sins.

But then one of the elders in this vision has a question for John. Does he understand what he’s seeing? Does he know what is going on here? He asks John, “These people dressed in white robes, who are they and where did they come from?” Did John know? Was he having trouble putting thoughts together? Would he not presume to try to hack at an explanation of what he was seeing? Or did he get it but just really, really wanted to hear it from someone else? Any of these are possible; regardless, John’s non-answer to the elder’s question is, “Sir, you know.” And the elder takes the opportunity to explain what John is seeing clearly: These are the ones who are coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

The great multitude is a group of people who are continuing to come out of great trouble. They got these white robes by washing them in… blood? Any child who has scraped his knees on the playground knows that blood on clothing sticks around. Unless someone gets the correct cleaning agents on it at just the right time, blood stains clothing permanently; blood certainly does not clean or remove stains. But these robes have been washed in blood—and came out dazzling white.

The blood of the Lamb of God shed for us is cleansing. By nature, our robes are stained with sin, disgusting, putrid, like we dragged them through an open sewer. But Jesus’ blood removes that sin, cleans those robes, and purifies the sinner from the gunk that we spread all over ourselves.

The fact that these people are coming out of this great tribulation means this is an ongoing process. People are being continually added to this great throng of people around the Lamb. The number of people whose robes are washed in his blood grows as time marches on. That great tribulation that they are coming out of? It is this life, marred and ruined by sin. It is this world where sickness and pain troubles know no end, where heartache and sadness are constant companions, and where sin ruins everything from personal relationships to even nature around us.

Who are these people dressed in white robes? They are the apostle John, and you, and me, and everyone who has gone before us clinging to Jesus as their Savior. Those who have gone before us have been added to this number of those gathered around their sacrificial Lamb, who was slain and then raised to life in victory. They wave palm branches because our enemies of sin, death, and hell have been defeated in the Lamb’s life and death for us.

This doesn’t make anything we said earlier untrue. By nature, we truly deserve hell. Our sin and rebellion against God are a stench in his nostrils. But God’s justice is only one side of his nature. He is also loving. He sought to rescue us from sin because he didn’t want us in hell. He sent Jesus to be our Savior so we would not face what we deserved.

Currently, we are in the great tribulation. You know what that means for you, personally. The pain and struggles that are unique to your walk in this life and yet are a shared experience for all of us. Fear grips us, trusted people fail us, and we even let ourselves down. It is miserable in every conceivable way because of sin—both our sin and the sin around us.

But that will come to an end. You and I will also be among those in this great multitude, not because of us but because of Jesus. Our robes were filthy with the sludge of sin, but they have been washed clean in Jesus’ blood, shed for us. He purifies us and makes us right with God. God promised this very thing in very similar language through the prophet Isaiah: “Come now, and let us reason together, says the Lord. Though your sins are like scarlet, they will be as white as snow. Though they are as red as crimson, they will be like wool” (Isaiah 1:18).

What does that mean for those who have gone before us? What will that mean when we leave this great tribulation? Recall that sin separated us from God and then listen to what the elder told John: Because of this they are in front of the throne of God, and they serve him day and night in his temple. He who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. 16They will never be hungry or thirsty ever again. The sun will never beat upon them, nor will any scorching heat, 17for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd. He will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

There could be no more complete opposite of hell, no more complete opposite of separation from God than this. This crowd from every nation, you and I among them, for Jesus’ sake, will be gathered around God’s throne, directly serving him, protected by his shelter, never suffering again because the Lamb of God will be our Shepherd. Jesus will tend to us and care for all of our needs. And not even a single tear of sadness will come to our eyes—God will wipe them all away.

God doubles down on these promises near the end of John’s Revelation. He says in chapter 21, “Look! God’s dwelling is with people. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them, and he will be their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain, because the former things have passed away” (21:3-4). That will be our reality in heaven. Though God cares for us now, we will experience his care and protection in full in eternity.

Truly, the great tribulation of this life will be the closest thing to hell you and I will ever experience, for Jesus’ sake. “These people dressed in white robes, who are they and where did they come from?” They are you; they are me; they are all people of all places and all times in whom God has worked faith in his forgiveness brought about by Jesus, the promised and triumphant Savior! In heaven, we will see God face-to-face forever, and he will free us from everything bad. We will rejoice forever in God’s love for us! Salvation comes from our God, who sits on the throne, and from the Lamb. Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and might belong to our God forever and ever! Amen!

"Lord, Keep Us Steadfast in Your Word" (Sermon on Daniel 6:10-12, 16-23) | October 29, 2023

Sermon Text: Daniel 6:10–12, 16–23
Date: October 29, 2023
Event: Reformation Day (Observed), Year A

Daniel 6:10–12, 16–23 (EHV)

Now, when Daniel learned that the document had been signed, he went to his house. It had windows on its upper story that opened toward Jerusalem. Three times each day he would get on his knees and pray and offer praise before his God. He continued to do that, just as he had been doing before this. 11Then these men came as a group and found Daniel praying and seeking favor from his God.

12They then went and asked the king about the decree. “Your Majesty, did you not sign a decree that anyone who prays to any god or person for thirty days except to you, Your Majesty, would be thrown into the den of lions?”

The king answered, “Indeed I did. The order is established as a law of the Medes and the Persians that cannot be revoked.”

Then the king gave the order, and Daniel was brought and thrown into the lions’ den. The king said to Daniel, “May your God, whom you serve continually, rescue you.” 17A stone was brought and placed over the mouth of the pit. The king sealed it with his signet ring and the signet rings of his nobles so that nothing could be changed with regard to Daniel’s situation. 18Then the king went to his palace. He spent the night without food, and no entertainment was brought before him. But he could not sleep.

19At dawn the king arose as soon as it was light and hurried to the lions’ den. 20As he came near the pit, he cried out in a fearful voice. The king said to Daniel, “Daniel, servant of the living God, was your God, whom you serve continually, able to rescue you from the lions?”

21Then Daniel spoke with the king. “Your Majesty, may you live forever! 22My God sent his angel and shut the mouth of the lions. They have not hurt me because he found me innocent in his presence. Also before you, Your Majesty, I have committed no crime.”

23Then the king was very glad and said that Daniel should be brought up from the pit. So Daniel was brought up from the pit, and he was unharmed because he trusted in his God.

Lord, Keep Us Steadfast In Your Word

It had been a long, almost-70 years. Daniel had been taken as an exile to Babylon in the earliest wave of deportations from the Southern Kingdom many years before. In fact, we heard that very event in our First Reading this past Sunday. Very quickly, the king of Babylon noted Daniel’s unique, God-given gifts and put him in a high rank in the government. So great were Daniel’s gifts and God’s blessings that he even survived a whole world-power shift when the Medes and Persians overthrew the Babylonians and took control of their empire. Despite an entirely new people leading the government, Daniel remained in his high-ranking position. And many people did not like that.

Those who were against Daniel, who were jealous of his gifts and favored position, sought ways to undermine him and take him down. They zeroed in on the one Achilles heel they could find in Daniel’s life: his dedication to his God. Despite being far removed from his homeland, despite the temple that was the center of their worship being destroyed decades before, Daniel remained faithful to God, even in this pagan land. So, if his enemies could weaponize that dedication against him, they might win out over Daniel. So that’s what they tried.

Just before our First Reading begins in Daniel chapter 6, we hear their plan. Daniel’s enemies approached King Darius with this flattering request: “Darius, Your Majesty, may you live forever! All the supervisors of the kingdom, the prefects and the satraps, the advisors and the governors advise the king to establish and enforce a decree that prohibits anyone to pray a prayer to any god or person for thirty days except to you, Your Majesty. Anyone who does so will be thrown into the den of lions. Now Your Majesty, please establish the decree and sign a document that cannot be changed, according to the law of the Medes and the Persians that cannot be revoked” (Daniel 6:6-9). They were able to praise the king and inflate his ego while at the same time making Daniel’s faithfulness to God illegal for 30 days. It seemed like a win-win for them, didn’t it?

What was Daniel’s reaction to this decree? Now, when Daniel learned that the document had been signed, he went to his house. It had windows on its upper story that opened toward Jerusalem. Three times each day he would get on his knees and pray and offer praise before his God. He continued to do that, just as he had been doing before this. Nothing changes for Daniel. Note that he doesn’t throw a hissy fit; he doesn’t whine and complain about the government persecuting him; he doesn’t try to stage any sort of revolt or even get petitions signed to show his displeasure. No, he makes no changes at all. He continues his quiet, faithful service to God and lets the cards fall where they fall.

Daniel doesn’t compromise on God’s Word. He is dedicated to the truth no matter what the consequences. And for Daniel, the consequences were dire—being tossed into a den of lions overnight. That would mean certain death.

Daniel’s faith and dedication are extraordinary. Years before, Daniel’s countrymen and fellow workers Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego faced the fiery furnace for a similar dedication to the true God. Those three men had no promise of protection from God and readily admitted that God may not save them from the flames at all, but still, they would not compromise. Likewise, Daniel has no promise from God for his protection. God didn’t come to Daniel in a dream saying, “Don’t worry about those lions; you’ll be fine.” As Daniel was taken to the lion’s den, for all he knew, this was the end. But Daniel’s dedication to God was more important to him than even his own life.

It can be easy on a day like today, Reformation Day, to miss the point a little bit. While we are certainly thankful for Martin Luther and the other reformers who sought to bring the truth of the gospel back to light in an era where it had been hidden for so long, today’s celebration is not about a person or group of people. Martin Luther, Philip Melanchthaon, Martin Chemnitz, and so many others were men dedicated to God. But today, we don’t celebrate them, but the faith that God gave them, the strength of conviction they received from God, and the dedication to the truth no matter what the cost.

Luther was excommunicated from the church as a heretic and eventually declared an enemy of the state. He could have been killed on sight, no questions asked, and the person who killed him wouldn’t be in any trouble; in fact, that person might be celebrated. But still, that did not deter Luther from writing, preaching, and translating so that the people could know the truths of God, no matter what it cost him personally. The gospel was more important to Luther than his own life. God never promised Luther he would be safe. For all Luther knew, he was just the tip of the spear of this work and he would not live long.

Like Daniel, though, Luther did live a long and productive life. God protected him from the assaults of church and state so that the gospel could flourish, so the people could be reminded that it was not their work that provided them with the forgiveness of sins or the confidence of eternal life, but it was Jesus alone who provides all that we need for eternal safety and security. God allowed that message of sins forgiven in Jesus’ death on the cross to ring out with a chime that we still hear today, some 500 years later. We hear clearly God’s promise that Jesus’ perfect life has been credited to us, that for Jesus’ sake, God views us not as sinners but as the perfect people he expected us to be.

All of this is true for us today as well. The gospel remains unchanged. You and I will be in heaven only because of God’s undeserved love for us. You cannot get rid of any sin; I cannot make up for any failure on my part with God. We must lean on Jesus and on Jesus alone.

We may not be in the position to reform an erring church. We may not have to bravely take a stand for the truth against rulers who make our faith punishable by death. But our Christian faith is always counter-cultural. There will never be a time or a place where living our faith is going to be easy or pleasant. We’ve recently heard Jesus describe the life of a Christian in this world as one of cross-bearing. Life on this side of eternity will be difficult for those dedicated to the truth.

We may look back on our life and see times when we have not been so eternally minded. Perhaps we compromised our values for the sake of fitting in with friends or coworkers. Perhaps we’ve not let our light shine in public or in the private parts of our homes or our own minds. Perhaps we are shamed by Daniel’s dedication to God because we know that we do not have that. And likely, if we think we do, we’re not quite thinking hard enough about how dedicated we truly have been.

But in Jesus, there is forgiveness for all of those faltering times. When we haven’t been Daniel or Luther or anyone else whose dedication and faith amaze us, when we have compromised, made excuses, or even tossed God’s will out entirely to do what we wanted to do—it is for those times that Jesus died. It was to prove his victory over those sins that Jesus rose from the dead. You and I have not been perfectly dedicated to God—neither was Daniel nor Luther—but where we have failed, we have been forgiven. And that forgiveness gives us the strength to recommit our hearts and minds to God and his truth yet again.

We don’t compromise on our faith, but we don’t go looking for fights either. We stay dedicated to our God but accept that there will be earthly consequences for that course of action in this fallen world. God will be with us, but he may not keep us from all harm. God rescued Daniel from the lions, but he didn’t prevent Daniel from being thrown into the den in the first place. Our goal as Christians in this life should not and cannot be a happy-go-lucky life living our faith. We will face pressure in one way or another to turn from the truth and embrace false teachings or totally jettison our faith altogether. We can’t take this stand alone. We need God to ignite this fire of dedication within us, and to keep the fires burning brightly through his Word.

So, Lord, keep us steadfast in your Word! Let us never abandon what you have done for us, no matter what the consequences are in this life. Keep us ever-focused on the eternal goal in front of us, not giving up eternal treasures for temporary “peace.” We can only do this with the strength you provide. Please pour it out on us all in abundance. Amen.

"God's Patience is Beyond Our Comprehension" (Sermon on Matthew 21:33-46) | October 8, 2023

Sermon Text: Matthew 21:33-46
Date: October 8, 2023
Event: Proper 22, Year A (The Nineteenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Matthew 21:33–43 (EHV)

“Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a winepress in it, and built a watchtower. He leased it out to some tenant farmers and went away on a journey. 34When the time approached to harvest the fruit, he sent his servants to the tenants to get his fruit. 35The tenant farmers seized his servants. They beat one, killed another, and stoned a third. 36Then the landowner sent even more servants than the first time. The tenant farmers treated them the same way. 37Finally, he sent his son to them. ‘They will respect my son,’ he said. 38But when the tenant farmers saw the son, they said to each other, ‘This is the heir. Come, let’s kill him and take his inheritance!’ 39They took him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him. 40So when the landowner comes, what will he do to those tenant farmers?”

41They told him, “He will bring those wretches to a wretched end. Then he will lease out the vineyard to other tenants who will give him his fruit when it is due.”

42Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the Scriptures:

The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone.
This was the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes?

43“That is why I tell you the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces its fruit. 44Whoever falls on this stone will be broken to pieces, and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.” 

45When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they knew that he was talking about them. 46Although they were looking for a way to arrest him, they were afraid of the crowds because the people regarded him as a prophet. 

God’s Patience is Beyond Our Comprehension

Can you be too patient? Is there a point when patience ceases to be a virtue and becomes a detriment? For myself, I feel like I waver between being too patient and not patient enough, at some times reacting too swiftly or judgmentally and at other times waiting too long to intervene or do something. The tricky thing is that the realization that you’ve erred one way or the other often only comes after the fact with reflection. “I was too rash or harsh in that situation” or “I really should have done something about that sooner.” However, rarely do I look back on things and think “I handled that with the proper balance of patience and urgency.”

You can take it to an extreme example on either side. The teacher is in the classroom and sees a student yawn and have their eyes closed for a second. Would it be appropriate for that teacher to throw a fit about how they deserve respect and that the student should pay attention in class? On the other side, if someone notes that smoke and flames are coming from their neighbor’s house, would it be wise to say, “Well, let’s see how this plays out. I think it might be ok”?

So, patience can be good and patience can be bad, depending on the situation and the scenario. But generally, patience presupposes a problem, right? If everything were just good and happy all the time, there’d really be no need for patience. So patience is, in some ways, an adaptation because of sin.

But patience is not just something that sinful human beings learn and work on—patience is an aspect of God as well. He, when dealing with sin, has perfect patience, patience that is often beyond our comprehension. When we think of how patient God is with us or with other people, it leaves us slack-jawed and amazed. Let’s explore God’s patience through Jesus’ parable here this morning.

Jesus is still speaking to the religious leaders who are trying to find any possible reason to get rid of Jesus; this parable comes right after the parable of the two sons that we heard last weekend. Jesus’ point in the parable of the tenant farmers is to show that when the leaders rejected him, it was not simply an act of laziness or hypocrisy as we saw with the son who said he’d work in the vineyard and never went. No, their rejection of Jesus was an active war against God and his plan of salvation.

So, in the parable, the landowner who lived in a distant land sent servants to collect his share of the produce of a piece of property. This would have been an arrangement that many of the people were familiar with; a good portion of the agriculture in that area would have worked like this: The locals worked for a distant owner, and then by contract had to give him a set portion of the crop or profits, while they were able to make use of everything else from the farm. It was theoretically a win-win for both involved, at least until someone abused the system.

The landowner’s servants were met with horrendous treatment: They beat one, killed another, and stoned a third. Then the landowner sent even more servants than the first time. The tenant farmers treated them the same way. You might well assume this was not in the lease. They should have respected the servants as the landowner himself, but they did not.

You might expect the landowner to come with an army and destroy these tenants. But he had one more patient, seemingly recklessly patient, act up his sleeve: Finally, he sent his son to them. ‘They will respect my son,’ he said. As we listen to the parable, we probably think, “Are you crazy? What are you doing? When they so mistreated your servants, why would you possibly send your own son to them?!” And that’s really the reaction Jesus wants us to have as he illustrates God’s patient love. If we take an honest, objective look at God’s love, we can’t help but ask, “What are you doing? Why?”

As we trace history throughout the Old Testament, time and time again God sends his prophets to his people to call them to repentance. We heard a snippet of condemnation from Isaiah in our First Reading. Jeremiah, Hosea, Nahum, and all the others were sent with what boiled down to one task: bring God’s Word to his people. And how did the people respond? Most of the time they ignored them, sometimes they hurt them, and at other times they even killed the prophets God sent to them. They beat one, killed another, and stoned a third. Then the landowner sent even more servants than the first time. The tenant farmers treated them the same way.

And now here stands Jesus, God’s own Son, with his message of forgiveness to give to them, and what are they trying to do? Exactly the same thing their forefathers did to the prophets. They tried to ignore him, they tried to persecute him to get him to be quiet, and eventually, they think they will be free of this message that rubs them the wrong way if they just kill Jesus. When the tenant farmers saw the son, they said to each other, ‘This is the heir. Come, let’s kill him and take his inheritance.” The leaders' reaction to Jesus didn’t make any more sense or help them any more than the farmers’ reaction in the parable.

The fact that Jesus is speaking this parable to the religious leaders is a testimony to God’s patience. The religious leaders had rejected Jesus; they were actively seeking out ways to kill him. In just a couple of days, they will accomplish that goal. It would be easy to understand if Jesus wanted to take these last days to just be with his disciples rather than those who had rejected God’s cornerstone.

But why doesn’t he? Because Jesus is still trying to reach out to these leaders of the people. He’s still calling them to repentance. He still loves them even as they hate him. Now, there will come a time when we’ll see Jesus isolate and just be with his disciples, but then we actually see an even more baffling expression of Jesus’ patience and forgiving love. Because up until the very end, up to the final moments, Jesus will reach out to Judas, his friend and betrayer. He will call Judas to turn from his path and see the forgiveness that Jesus provides, even as Judas rejected that such forgiveness could exist for someone like him.

This is the patient love of God, that reaches out to save even his enemies, even those who hate him, even those who seek to destroy him. For as clear as that fact is about Jesus’ enemies on the week that he died, those things are also true about us. Now, have we respected our pastors and teachers more than the Israelites at large respected the prophets or Jesus? I think probably, yes. I’ve never had a member here or in South Dakota threaten me or try to physically harm me for a message I shared. But Jesus speaks to a deeper problem here. While that problem may not express itself in us in the same way it did with the religious leaders, we share the same root problem as those who ignored and murdered the prophets and those who had Jesus crucified.

Our sin against God is no different no less severe than those of the religious leaders who would plot to take Jesus’ life. Our sin is war against God and his will, and it’s a war that we will not win. Sin brings God’s wrath; sin brings hell. Sin led the people to reject God’s message and kill his servants—even his Son. Sin leads us to do things that God finds equally abominable because with God there is no difference from sin to sin. Murder his prophet or ignore part of his Word? They are the same. Each sin robs us of the perfection that God requires. Even one sin means we, the wretches, deserve to be brought to a wretched end.

Why should God love you? He shouldn’t. Why should God be patient with me? He shouldn’t. But he is, right? He does love us and is patient with us in a way that is beyond our comprehension. Think of how many times we have turned from God and sought our own way. Think how many times we have looked at God’s will and said, “Eh, I don’t really want to do that so I don’t think I will.” Think of how many times our thoughts, words, and actions do not line up with God’s expectations and demands.

God should be done with us, shouldn’t he? Aren’t we beyond hope? Aren’t we beyond his patience? Isn’t this reckless? God says, “No.” His loving patience may not make any sense to us, but it makes perfect sense to him. His love for us is so great that he doesn’t want us to receive what our sins deserve; God doesn’t want anyone in hell. So he is patient with us. He reaches out to us with the call of repentance, to turn from our sin, and to trust in him as Savior. Even though we have fought against and spat on him in all we’ve said and done, he still loves us, he still wants us to be with him.

This is most clearly embodied in Jesus’ work. Not calling the religious leaders or even Judas to repentance, but his journey to the cross. There is the most baffling patience of all. Finally, he sent his son to them. But Jesus didn’t come to simply teach us or help us to be better—he came to save us. For reasons that only God can fully understand, Jesus took the sins we had committed against him and laid them on himself. Jesus suffered hell on the cross in our place, even though he had done nothing wrong. God himself died for the sins that his people committed against him. Who can understand this?

The good news is that we don’t have to understand or comprehend God’s patience to benefit from it. Your forgiveness doesn’t require you to be able to explain why God’s course of action was the right one; you benefit from Jesus' work because he’s given it to you. Unlike in the parable, God’s Son died but then rose from the dead triumphantly. The love of God conquered every sin so we will not meet a wretched end. No, just the opposite. We will be with our loving, patient God in the perfection of heaven forever.

So, spend some time this week just letting God’s patient, forgiving love hit you anew. Let it be fresh and amazing again, no matter how many times you have heard about it. And then let your life bear the fruit of thanksgiving. Let it be a life that praises God for his patience not in sin, but in prioritizing his will, knowing that he has given us everything—even eternal life—for the sake of Jesus, our Savior. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"What Motivates Our Words and Actions?" (Sermon on Matthew 21:23-32) | October 1, 2023

Sermon Text: Matthew 21:23-32
Date: October 1, 2023
Event: Proper 21, Year A [The Eighteenth Sunday after Pentecost]

Matthew 21:23-32 (EHV)

When Jesus went into the temple courts, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him while he was teaching and said, “By what authority are you doing these things?” and “Who gave you this authority?”

24Jesus answered them, “I will also ask you one question. If you answer it, I will tell you by what authority I do these things. 25The baptism of John, where was it from? From heaven or from men?”

They discussed it among themselves, saying, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Then why did you not believe him?’ 26But if we say, ‘From men,’ we are afraid of the crowd, since they all regard John as a prophet.” 27So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.”

He said to them, “Then I will not tell you by what authority I do these things.”

28“What do you think? A man had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go work today in my vineyard.’ 29He answered, ‘I will not,’ but later he changed his mind and went. 30He came to the second and said the same thing. The second son answered, ‘I will go, sir,’ but he did not go. 31Which of the two did the will of his father?”

They said to him, “The first.”

Jesus said to them, “Amen I tell you: The tax collectors and the prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32For John came to you in the way of righteousness, but you did not believe him. However, the tax collectors and prostitutes did believe him. Even when you saw this, you did not change your mind and believe him.”

What Motivates Our Words and Actions?

Motivation matters a lot, doesn’t it? If I lie to a family member to mask the fact that I’m doing something wrong, that’s bad. But if I lie to a family member to plan a surprise party for them that I know they’ll love? Well, I think we can see the difference in that. This morning, let’s consider what motivates our actions and attitudes toward God and one another, and let’s find in Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection the strength to approach all of life’s challenges not only with words and actions that appear to be God-pleasing but also with a truly God-pleasing motivation.

Our Gospel for this morning takes place on the Tuesday of Holy Week. The opposition toward Jesus has reached a fever pitch. By Friday of this week, Jesus will be crucified, but at this point, no one has that clearly in mind (save for Jesus himself). Jesus’ enemies are trying to trap him, trick him, or get him to say or do something that will have negative ramifications for him. They don’t care if it’s something that would lead the people to reject him or to give them justifiable cause to have him killed. Either way, they see Jesus as a threat to the nation and their comfortable positions of power. They must stop him at all costs.

And so, they think with these questions they’ve got him: “By what authority are you doing these things?” and “Who gave you this authority?” They figure that either way, they win. If he claims a divine origin for his call, they can claim blasphemy and have reason to kill him within Jewish law. Or, if he were to claim personal or human authority for the work he’s doing, perhaps to save his own skin, the people who thought he was from God would turn away and leave him. They think they’ve got Jesus in a lose-lose situation, which in turn is a win-win for them.

But Jesus, knowing their hearts, doesn’t fall into this trap. Instead, he turns the question around on them, “I will also ask you one question. If you answer it, I will tell you by what authority I do these things. The baptism of John, where was it from? From heaven or from men?” Jesus takes us way back, to even before his ministry began, to John the Baptist’s work, some three years earlier. Where did John’s authority come from, Jesus asks, God or people? Now, it is the religious leaders who are stuck between a rock and a hard place. Because this is ultimately about their control of the people, they recognize that if they claim John was sent by God, they would be criticized for rejecting the message, but if they claimed that John had no divine command, they might have a riot on their hands as John was still popular with the people, even long after Herod had him executed.

And so, they give the only non-answer available to them: “We do not know.” So, Jesus, then, does not answer their question, at least not directly. Instead, he transitions into a parable about a father and two children.

At first blush, this parable seems to be about two polar opposites. The first son says that he won’t do the work his father asked him to do, but then he changes his mind and does it; the second son says he will go and work in the vineyard as his father asked, but then doesn’t do it. It’s clear that the first son is the one that ultimately does what the father wants—even Jesus’ enemies can point that out. But neither son approaches this without sin, right?

The parallels that Jesus makes between the sons and the people are clear. The tax collectors, prostitutes, and other so-called “sinners” are symbolized by the son who disobeyed his father to begin with and then turned around, repented, and did what he wanted. These sinful people, as they see the error of their ways and cling to God for his promised forgiveness, find their way to eternal life, not by their work, but by God’s grace and mercy. They were leaving behind their life of sin and finding great joy in God’s forgiving love for them which meant heaven despite the sins they had committed.

The religious leaders, on the other hand, were those who tried to look good but didn’t have a true heart in the matter. They told “Dad” what he wanted to hear, and then went off and did whatever they wanted, ignoring God’s will.

Jesus warns the religious leaders that while both approaches to God’s will have heavy amounts of sin, the first, the repentant sinner, is to be valued over the person who just tries to look good because, in the end, they turn from the sin and embrace God’s will for their lives.

It’s tempting, to see ourselves as that son, isn’t it? Yes, we’ve sinned, but we have turned from that sin. We know God’s forgiveness and now we do God’s will. Or do we?

I would caution us against identifying with either of these sons in totality, but rather, I would propose that at different times we are one son or the other, we are the tax collector or the pharisee. So, what impacts our approach; what would change our will in regard to God’s will?

Let’s consider the things that tempt us to act like the first son. What are those things that cause us to hate God’s will and then later we might turn from it? It might be that so-called “pet” sin that seems to be ever-present with us. Maybe it’s found in our lustful thoughts and actions, maybe it’s greed, maybe it’s our outbursts of anger or holding a grudge against someone. These are things that perhaps we give into and even seek out. God says we should avoid those sins and we say, “I will not,” and then allow those sins to be a part of us. But then, after reflecting on the thoughts of our hearts or our actions, we recognize, “No, I was in the wrong. God was right. Lord, please forgive me.” As we turn away from that sin that we initially loved or at least wanted around, we go into the vineyard to work. In repentance, we acknowledge not only that we were in the wrong and God was in the right, but that we need his forgiveness. And for Jesus’ sake, we know that those sins are, in fact, forgiven. His authority to forgive is his own—as our God and Savior, he can assure us that those sins are gone, and we are free and forgiven.

But when are we like the second son? I’m concerned about even bringing this up because it might start in a place like right here. We might come to church and try to look on the outside like we are dedicated to God or even truly think in our hearts that we are. We talk the talk but then when it comes time to walk the walk, we struggle. We don’t let our faith affect our words and actions at school. We treat the members of our families in a horrible way, perhaps even ignoring them and cutting them off completely, we harbor sin in our hearts, and rather than repenting and turning away from it, we treat it like a cute little kitten or puppy and just love it and coddle it and want to take care of it.

My brothers and sisters, if we are honest, we will recognize that we often fall into the trap of the second son. We try to look good on the outside but on the inside we don’t really care about the ramifications of what we think, say, or do. We try to look like we hate sin, but in reality, the love of sin motivates us. And even less do we consider what God’s will is in these matters. And while the first son’s initial sin is absolutely not to be praised, the second son’s masking and harboring of sin is eternally dangerous.

Unrepentant sin is destructive to saving faith. We will never be without sin in this life. We will never be able to be perfect people as long as our sinful nature is a part of us, which it will be until the day God calls us home to heaven. But there’s a difference between sin that I’m frustrated with and hate and sin that I hold on to, love, and try to hide from others. That loved sin, unrepentant sin, essentially says to Jesus, “Yeah, thanks for the whole dying for my sins thing, but I don’t need it. I don’t need you. I like my sin and we’re doing just fine over here.” Unrepentant sin, eventually, leads to hell as we reject God’s forgiveness.

So, we would much rather be neither son, right? We’d rather be the son that says, “Yes, I’ll do what you say, father,” and then goes and does it. But if we recognize sin taking harbor in our lives, either outwardly spurning God’s will like the first son or by hiding it in secret recesses of our hearts like the second son, we need to come to Jesus and lay that sin before him. He’s the one who died to pay for it all, to forgive it all, to ensure that we will be in eternal life with him. And no sin, no matter how appealing it might be to our natural selves, is worth rejecting our Savior for.

What ought our attitude be instead? Well, Paul gave us a glimpse in our Second Reading: let this attitude be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus. Why did Jesus do what he did? Why did he humble himself and become obedient to death on the cross? Because he loved us. He knew that’s what he needed so he sacrificed himself to rescue us from death and hell. He loved us with a love that would not let anything pull him away from his mission.

We are not in Jesus’ position. We do not need to do anything to save God or to help him. But we can still strive to love God in a way that emulates his love and dedication for us. We turn away from sin and do what God wants not primarily because we’re afraid of the consequences, but because we rejoice in the truth of his love. We are dedicated to God and his will out of love and thanksgiving for all that he has done for us. Our new selves, the in-dwelling of the Holy Spirit within us, want to prioritize God’s will in our thoughts, words, and actions because of gratitude to the one who saved us from sin and will bring us to be with him forever.

Let that motivation be behind what you say and do—love and thanksgiving for God. Don’t consider either son the ideal. Instead, let us hear God’s will, rejoice in God’s will, put to death the parts of us that hate it, and embrace his will for our lives because he has forgiven us.

Lord, forgive us for those times that we outwardly or inwardly spurn your will for our lives. Forgive us for Jesus’ sake and embolden us to live our lives in thanksgiving and love for you. Amen.

Love Rejoices in Forgiven Sin (Sermon on Jonah 3:10-4:11) | September 24, 2023

Sermon Text: Jonah 3:10-4:11
Date: September 24, 2023
Event: Proper 20, Year A [The Seventeenth Sunday after Pentecost]

Jonah 3:10-4:11 (EHV)

When God saw their actions, that they had turned from their evil way, God relented from the disaster which he said he would bring on them, and he did not carry it out.

4:1But to Jonah all this seemed very bad, and he became very angry. 2He prayed to the Lord, “Lord, wasn’t this exactly what I said when I was still in my own country? That is why I previously fled to Tarshish, because I knew that you are a gracious and merciful God, slow to anger and abounding in mercy, and you relent from sending disaster. 3So now, Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.”

4But the Lord replied, “Is it right for you to be angry?”

5Jonah went out of the city and sat down east of the city. He made a shelter for himself there and sat in the shade under it, waiting to see what would happen in the city.

6Then the Lord God provided a plant and made it grow up over Jonah to provide shade over his head, to relieve him from his discomfort. So Jonah was very happy about the plant. 7But at dawn the next day God provided a worm, and it attacked the plant so that it withered. 8When the sun rose, God provided a scorching east wind. The sun beat down on Jonah’s head so that he grew faint. He wanted to die, so he said, “It is better for me to die than to live.”

9But God said to Jonah, “Is it right for you to be angry about the plant?” Jonah said, “I do have a right to be angry—angry enough to die!”

10So the Lord said, “You have been concerned about this plant. You did not work for it or make it grow. It grew up in one night and perished after one night. 11So should I not be concerned for Nineveh, the great city, in which there are more than one hundred twenty thousand people who do not know the difference between their right hand and their left—and also many animals?”

Love Rejoices in Forgiven Sin

Over the last few weeks, we have been focused on how a Christian deals with sin. Two weeks ago, guided by Jesus’ direction to Christians to confront sit personally and in love, we saw how Paul did just that. He confronted Peter, who had pulled away from the Gentile Christians and only focused on the Jewish believers, despite the fact that Jesus’ forgiveness is for all people. Paul noted that this hypocrisy was not only a danger to Peter, but to all the others who saw what he was doing.

Last week, we focused on forgiveness. Jesus assured Peter that there should be no limit to forgiveness from one person to another. We saw that play out in the account of Joseph’s life. Joseph was greatly harmed by his brothers, but not only did God work that harm for good, but Joseph also forgave his brothers and didn’t hold the evil they did against them.

This morning, we kind of take a hop to the other side of forgiveness. What is our response to someone who is forgiven? Have you ever looked at someone who has done something you feel to be particularly awful and see him rejoice in blessings or bask in forgiveness and think to yourself, “He doesn’t deserve those things”? Or perhaps you’ve taken stock of your own life and see blessings that do not coincide with the thoughts, words, and actions that have come from your heart over the years, and yet here the blessings are. What feelings does the thought of a serial killer coming to faith in Jesus just before suffering the death penalty do for you? Does it feel good? Or a touch unfair or unjust?

In our First Reading, we have the end of the account of Jonah. Jonah’s ministry is well known even in pop culture for his time in the belly of a great fish. The way he got there was that God had commanded him to go to the city of Nineveh, the capital of the Assyrian empire, but Jonah refused. He hopped on a boat and went the exact opposite direction from where God had commanded him to go.

So, God sent a great storm to batter the ship. Eventually, it was made clear that the only way to calm this storm—the only way everyone on that boat would survive—was for them to throw Jonah overboard. Eventually, that is what they did, and God sent a great fish to swallow Jonah whole. He was preserved and protected in the belly of the fish and got to reconsider his decisions.

After his time in that digestive tract, Jonah had a change of heart. He thanked God for his mercy and then went to Nineveh to proclaim God’s Word to those Gentiles. And, in a surprising turn of events, the people listened! Jonah proclaimed that there would be 40 days until the city would be destroyed, and the whole city including the king, approached God’s words with respect and faith. They repented and put on sackcloth as a sign of that repentance. And that’s where our First Reading picks up: When God saw their actions, that they had turned from their evil way, God relented from the disaster which he said he would bring on them, and he did not carry it out.

Here a city of unbelievers takes God at his word, turns away from evil, and toward God in faith for his forgiveness. These people were known for atrocities across the world, but in repentance, they find forgiveness from God. It’s hard to imagine that there was ever a more impossibly successful mission for God’s Word. Jonah is, perhaps, the man who had the greatest effect on the greatest number of people in one preaching assignment. You would think this would have produced in Jonah the greatest joy that any preacher of God’s Word had ever felt. But that’s essentially the opposite of what happened. To Jonah all this seemed very bad, and he became very angry.

Jonah couldn’t stand the fact that God was showing mercy to people like this. In fact, Jonah tells us directly that he didn’t refuse to go to Nineveh initially because he was scared for felt unworthy. No, he didn’t go because he figured that God would be merciful, and he didn’t want that mercy shown to the people of Nineveh. He frames God’s grace as a bad thing rather than a good thing!

On the one hand, we think, “Jonah, what on earth are you talking about? How could you possibly want bad things to happen to these people?” But, on the other hand, maybe we think like this more often than we like to admit. Do we want good and loving things from God for the person who scammed us out of that money or precious item? Do we want good and loving things from God for the person who hurt or abused us? Do we want good and loving things for the person who violated our trust so fundamentally that it destroyed our marriage? Or, in cases like that, would we prefer that the person “get what’s coming to them”?

If that idea is even flitting around the back of our subconscious, we do well to understand what a lack of forgiveness means. A lack of forgiveness and full responsibility for our sins means hell. It means being eternally cut off from God in a way that no human being has ever experienced in this life, no matter how far away God has felt. If we really understood the ramifications of hell, we wouldn’t wish that on our worst enemy.

And then take it from God’s perspective. He originally made Adam and Eve in his own image—in perfect harmony with him to have a perfect relationship with him. Sin hurt us, yes, but it also hurt God. That’s the point God makes when Jonah is grousing about God being merciful to that city through the vine that briefly provided him shade. Jonah is mad about a vine perishing that he didn’t have anything to do with—he didn’t make it, he didn’t care for it, he didn’t even ask for it. It showed up and then it was gone. And he’s upset that this thing that he had no attachment to other than experiencing a little bit of relief perished, how much more wouldn’t God be concerned with people he dearly loves and cares about being lost in their sin? “You have been concerned about this plant. You did not work for it or make it grow. It grew up in one night and perished after one night. So should I not be concerned for Nineveh, the great city, in which there are more than one hundred twenty thousand people…”

Every soul is precious to God, whether they were working at the beginning of the day through the intensity of the sun or if they came into the vineyard at the very twilight of life, whether they were a believing prophet of questionable dedication and ethics, or a city full of unbelievers destined to perish. God cares for everyone. God loves everyone. And Jesus’ life and death bring the complete forgiveness of sins to all people—even the “bad” ones, even you and me.

So, love for other people confronts sins, forgives sin, and rejoices when others come to faith and turn from their sinful nature’s path. God’s love means that he doesn’t treat us fairly. “Fair” would land us in hell, but for Jesus’ sake we will be in heaven. We who are no better than the Ninevites or Jonah are completely forgiven, totally justified, given blessings we had not earned at all because of Jesus’ life and death in our place. We know that we will defeat death because our Savior rose from his grave, defeating any claim our graves have on us.

As you look around here this morning, rejoice that the people sitting around you have been forgiven by their God. And let us go out to take this message of full and free forgiveness to all people, even those people that our gut might tell us don’t “deserve” it or won’t listen to it. Jesus is for all, from the first to the last and from the last to the first.

God, enable us to share this message and to rejoice when people find their complete forgiveness in you! Amen.

"Love Forgives Sin" (Sermon on Genesis 50:15-21) | September 17, 2023

Sermon Text: Genesis 50:15-21
Date: September 17, 2023
Event: Proper 19, Year A (The Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Genesis 50:15-21 (EHV)

When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, “It may be that Joseph will hate us and will pay us back in full for all of the evil that we did to him.”

16They sent the following message to Joseph: “Before he died your father commanded us, 17‘You are to tell Joseph, “Please forgive the offense of your brothers and their sin, because they did evil to you.”’ Now, please forgive the offense of the servants of the God of your father.”

Joseph wept when they spoke to him.

18His brothers also came and fell down in front of him, and they said, “See now, we are your servants.”

19Joseph said to them, “Do not be afraid, for am I in the place of God? 20You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring this to pass and to keep many people alive, as it is this day. 21Now therefore do not be afraid. I will nourish you and your little ones.” He comforted them and spoke to them in a kind way.

Love Forgives Sin

Last week we talked about the often uncomfortable but necessary work of lovingly confronting sin. We noted that we need to have love as the motivation for such work because we recognize the danger of sin to the person trapped in it and the danger of the model they are displaying for others. Sin is dangerous and unrepentant, cherished sin harms or destroys saving faith. While sin will be a part of our life while we are on this side of eternity, the Christian will not want it to be there. A life of repentance continually feels sorrow over sin, trusts that Jesus has taken that sin away, and seeks to change course away from those sins and toward a life that is in keeping with God’s will—to thank him for that forgiveness.

Our focus this morning continues this thread. Last week we noted that love confronts sin; this morning we have the focus that love forgives sin. On one level, that goes right along with lovingly confronting sin, right? If you’re confronting sin with love, you’re rightly going to have forgiveness for that person as a part of it—or at least a goal. But our sinful natures can warp things. We can distort even addressing sin to think we’re doing enough just by getting someone to stop a sin, rather than going the whole way to assure them of their forgiveness before God and, if applicable, our forgiveness for them as well.

So, it’s worth making this point very intentionally: as sinners who have been forgiven all our many sins by our God, we will want that same spirit of forgiveness to dominate our interactions with others. It is worth considering that we are not God, and our forgiveness may not be the light switch that his is for Jesus’ sake. But forgiveness ought always to be our goal, and this morning we have a few models to follow in that lovingly forgiving work.

Our First Reading is perhaps one of the biggest and most amazing scenes of person-to-person forgiveness in the entire Bible. Our First Reading takes place way at the very end of the story of Joseph, the very end of the book of Genesis. It will help us to review what happened between Joseph and his brothers leading up to this event.

As a child, Joseph was inappropriately favored by his father, Jacob. This created resentment among his brothers. It also didn’t help anything that (perhaps as a result of this favoritism), Joseph was a touch cocky with his family.

There came a time when the brothers saw an opportunity for sin but what they thought would bring relief. Jacob sent Joseph to check in on his brothers as they were away from home, finding grazing areas for the flocks. Initially, the brothers hatched a plan to kill Joseph and dispose of the body, but eventually, they changed their minds. “Why shouldn’t we profit off of getting rid of him?” they reasoned.  So, instead of killing Joseph, they sold him to some nomadic slave traders.

Joseph was taken to Egypt and purchased by a man named Potiphar, a high-ranking official in the government. God blessed Potiphar’s house through Joseph’s work and soon Joseph was essentially in charge of the whole household because his master trusted him with everything. But, after Potiphar’s wife made false accusations of sexual assault after Joseph refused her advances, Joseph ended up in prison. He was in prison for years, for a crime that he did not commit; God still blessed everything Joseph did and he ended up as a trusted servant in the prison as well.

Fast forward a few years, and eventually, Joseph has the opportunity to be useful to the Pharaoh, the king of Egypt. As a result of God giving Joseph the ability to explain Pharoah’s dreams, Joseph is essentially made second-in-command in all of Egypt, storing up grain during seven good years so that they were well prepared for seven years of famine that were coming.

Later, there was a reunion as Joseph’s family came looking to buy grain from Egypt. After some back and forth, Joseph was able to bring the entire family—70 people—to Egypt to live with him. Joseph’s brothers were scared to learn that their brother was not only still alive but an immensely powerful person in what was perhaps the most powerful nation at that time. But Joseph assured them that he loved them and forgave them.

So, in the end, God saw to it that Joseph, even earthly speaking was blessed. But he suffered a great deal because of his brothers’ hatred which resulted in a whole string of difficulties: cut off from his family, forced to work in a Gentile’s home as a slave, thrown in prison though innocent, and being forgotten about in there until God brought about the opportunity with the king. His brothers did not forget this, and while Joseph was very kind and generous to them, they thought that might come to an end once their father, Jacob, died. And that’s exactly where our First Reading picks up: When Joseph’s brothers saw that their father was dead, they said, “It may be that Joseph will hate us and will pay us back in full for all of the evil that we did to him.” So, they fabricate a story to try to get Joseph’s love for his father to transfer to them: They sent the following message to Joseph: “Before he died your father commanded us, ‘You are to tell Joseph, “Please forgive the offense of your brothers and their sin, because they did evil to you.”’ Now, please forgive the offense of the servants of the God of your father.”

This request causes Joseph to cry, I imagine not because he’s thinking of his father, but because he knows this didn’t happen and that his brothers don’t trust that he’s actually forgiven them. His tearful response seeks to reassure them: “Do not be afraid, for am I in the place of God? You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring this to pass and to keep many people alive, as it is this day. Now therefore do not be afraid. I will nourish you and your little ones.” He comforted them and spoke to them in a kind way. Even though Dad was gone, Joseph’s attitude toward his brothers would not change.

We often use the phrase “forgive and forget” which I often feel is a real distraction from actual, God-pleasing forgiveness. Forgetting is really, really difficult. Maybe we don’t dwell on something, but that is fundamentally different than not remembering the event at all. Did Joseph forget what had happened? No! “You meant evil against me,” he said. It wasn’t as if Joseph’s forgiveness led him to ask, “What are you talking about? Slavery? Prison? I don’t remember any of those things…” No, he clearly remembered them, but the key is that Joseph was not holding this against his brothers.

Our forgiveness probably follows a similar trajectory. We’re not likely to forget something that someone did or said that hurt us, but we can work to not let it control our attitude toward that person, to not hold a grudge against them, to not harbor anger in our hearts because of this sin. Forgiveness means that I actively and willingly do not hold the wrong against that person and move on. Perhaps not forgotten, but certainly left behind in the past.

In our Gospel this morning, Peter was looking for the limit to this forgiveness with his question to Jesus: “Lord, how many times must I forgive my brother when he sins against me? As many as seven times?” (Matthew 18:21). But Jesus’ parable of the unmerciful servant essentially points to the goal of an unlimited forgiveness. The question that Jesus teaches with the parable could be summed up this way: “Have you forgiven someone else as many sins as God has forgiven you? No? Then keep forgiving.”

Jesus teaches us this principle in the Lord’s Prayer. When was the last time you slowed down and thought through the 5th Petition—“Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us”? Is that really what you want God to do? Do you want God to forgive you like you forgive other people? I would think probably no. I often hold grudges or don’t confront someone who has sinned against me. I find it easier to just be upset and push that down rather than addressing the problem and resolving it with forgiveness. Is that the way I want God to treat me? Hardly!

But is that the way God treats me? No. God’s forgiveness for us through Jesus is complete, absolute. It is ironic that while we, who have sin-corrupted memories, have great difficulty forgetting sins committed against us, God, who knows all things, says that for Jesus’ sake, he actually does forgive and forget. Through the prophet Jeremiah, God speaks about how he views us through the lens of the coming Messiah, “I will forgive their guilt, and I will remember their sins no more” (Jeremiah 31:34). That means every sin that we commit, even our refusal to forgive that brother or sister who has sinned against us, is forgiven in Jesus’ blood.

As you consider your relationships with other people, be it family, friends, neighbors, coworkers, classmates, or whomever else you might interact with on a given day, consider Joseph’s treatment of his brothers. There are not too many ways that his brothers could have wronged him more deeply or disrupted his life more completely than they did. But how did he treat his brothers? Forgiveness.

Maybe this leads us to think of someone in our life that we need to assure of our forgiveness; maybe this leads us to think of someone in our life that we need to apologize to very directly for past wrongs; maybe this leads us to think of both. Whatever side of the equation we find ourselves on, Jesus’ perfect life and innocent death in our place means the forgiveness of every sin and the relief of every penny of debt owed to God. It is with that confidence that we can approach these difficult issues in our earthly relationships. When I forgive someone, there’s no doubt that God forgives them as well; when I ask for forgiveness, I know that God has wiped that and every sin off my account. My ledger reads “Paid in full,” written in the scarlet blood of my Savior.

Whatever the sins are, brothers and sisters, no matter how great the hurt or long-lasting the wound, let us work toward forgiving one another like Joseph forgave his brothers. Let us see no limit to this forgiveness for each other and let us rejoice in God’s forgiveness for them and for us! Amen.

"Love Confronts Sin" (Sermon on Galatians 2:11-16) | September 10, 2023

Sermon Text: Galatians 2:11–16
Date: September 10, 2023
Event: Proper 18, Year A (The Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Galatians 2:11–16 (EHV)

But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly wrong. 12For before some people came from James, he ate with the Gentiles. But when those people came, he drew back and separated himself, because he feared those from the circumcision group. 13And the rest of the Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, with the result that even Barnabas was carried away by their hypocrisy. 14But when I saw that they were not acting according to the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas in front of all of them, “If you, a Jew, live like the Gentiles and not like the Jews, why do you compel the Gentiles to live like the Jews?”

15“We are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners. 16We know that a person is not justified by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ. So we also believed in Christ Jesus that we might be justified by faith in Christ and not by the works of the law, because no one will be justified by the works of the law.”

Love Confronts Sin

You can feel the knots in your stomach. You must have that uncomfortable conversation with that loved one. They’re probably going to be angry or ashamed; you’ll probably feel awkward and unsure of yourself. There are likely to be tears on both sides. So why go through that? Why force yourself into a conversation that you can predict is likely to produce difficult emotions and behavior?

Well, probably because whatever it is, it’s important. You wouldn’t go through that just to make someone upset. You wouldn’t address a problem just to feel superior. If you were doing that, you probably wouldn’t have knots in your stomach at all. You’d probably feel bold and maybe even a touch reckless. But what produces that sinking feeling? It’s probably because you care very much about that person and want the best for them—and this difficult conversation is a necessary step on that path.

This morning’s focus for our worship is about confronting sin, an immensely uncomfortable situation all around. Few people enjoy it—especially if they’re going about it for the right reasons—and even fewer people enjoy being the object of it. But today we’ll see God’s direction to us both a sin-confronters and those being confronted with our sins, and examining what the spirit and motivation should be on both sides of that equation.

In our Second Reading for this morning, we have Paul’s accounting of what was certainly a rather uncomfortable situation. Paul says that he had to confront “Cephas” in the city of Antioch. This is Peter, the disciple and apostle Jesus, one who had been following Jesus for far longer than Paul had and notably had never once persecuted Christians, something that Paul could not claim. So, this confrontation would undoubtedly been extremely uncomfortable for Paul.

To understand what the issue is here with what Peter was doing and Paul was addressing, we need to back up a bit. We know that in the Old Testament, God had given his people very strict religious laws to follow. There was a complex system of offerings and sacrifices; there was clean and unclean food and other items that they were to embrace or stay away from; there was circumcision as a sign and reminder of the covenant promises God had made to his people through Abraham.

Most of these laws had the purpose of either emphasizing the reality of sin and its need for death to bring out forgiveness (as would be the case in the sacrificial system) or as a broad reminder that God’s people were not to blend in and behave like the world around them. They were to be different, set apart, because God had called them to be different. They were to be the family line of the Savior of the world, so they had to be reserved for that purpose, to live as the chosen people of God.

But, when Jesus came and did his work, the need to preserve a special line of the Savior disappeared—he had already come! Likewise, the need for the sacrificial system vanished as well because the true sacrifice that all of those animals pointed towards had been offered when he gave his life on the cross. You don’t stare at someone’s shadow when they’re standing right in front of you; likewise, you don’t look to animal sacrifices to take care of sin when Jesus’ perfect and complete sacrifice is right here.

But then this was the rub—during these very early days of the Christian church, after Jesus completed his work and the gospel began to be spread by the apostles, we find believers in a time of transition. They need to change the way they think—less about rules to be kept while waiting for the promised Savior and more focus on the Savior who had come and kept all the rules in their place. God had to directly intervene for Peter early in the books of Acts to show him that there is no longer any distinction between clean and unclean animals; he could eat what he wanted. That all served as a reminder that they were no longer to stay separate from the rest of the world, but they were to embrace those who were not Jewish, the Gentiles, by clearly and directly sharing the good news about Jesus with them (Acts 10-11).

As you can imagine, it was difficult for people to transition from the way of life they had known from birth to something new—especially if some of this new system might have felt wrong. In this case, it would be necessary for the messengers of the gospel to make these shifts, but we can understand the friction they would feel, perhaps even some crises of conscience.

This led to a problem within the young Christian church. A group who came to be known as the Judaizers started warping the gospel message. Their message essentially boiled down to, “Yes, Jesus is good and necessary. But to benefit from Jesus’ work and forgiveness, you need to keep the law God gave to our ancestors.” This was most commonly brought up in regard to circumcision—that faith in Jesus as Savior was good, but in order for people to go to heaven, circumcision still had to be carried out. It was a teaching that made outward works done by people as important if not more important than what Jesus had done. This is a clear threat to people’s souls because if we depend on anything we do for any amount or portion of our forgiveness, we stand condemned.

These false and deluded messengers were traveling throughout the region of Galatia spreading this confusing and dangerous teaching. So, the letter to the Galatians, likely Paul’s earliest letter in the New Testament, addresses this head-on. As early as Chapter 1, verse 6, Paul calls out this false teaching for what it is: “I am amazed that you are so quickly deserting the one who called you in the grace of Christ, for a different gospel, which is really not another gospel at all. There are, however, some who are trying to disturb you by perverting the gospel of Christ. But even if we or an angel from heaven would preach any gospel other than the one we preached to you—a curse on him! As we have said before, so I now say again: If anyone preaches to you any gospel other than the one you received—a curse on him!” (Galatians 1:6-9).

So, this brings us to our Second Reading from midway through this letter to the Galatians and the events that were going on in Antioch. Paul says, “Before some people came from James, [Peter] ate with the Gentiles. But when those people came, he drew back and separated himself, because he feared those from the circumcision group.” The “circumcision group” are the Judaizers, those who demanded the people need to be circumcised to be saved. So, what happened? Peter was doing a good job being a messenger and missionary to the Gentiles, to the non-Jewish people, until some Jewish people came from Jerusalem to see him. After that, he withdrew from the Gentiles and spent time only with the Jewish visitors, and we’re even told his motivation: fear.

And you can see the confusion and damage Peter’s actions could have, right? If there is this false teaching that people still need to follow the Jewish laws to be saved floating around and then, once these Jewish folks show up, Peter withdraws to only be with them, does that not grant legitimacy to this false teaching? People could very likely think, “Well, if even Peter thinks this is the way to go, then we probably should follow his lead.” And Paul says that’s exactly what happened, that even a stalwart in the early Christian church like Barnabas was carried away by their hypocrisy.

Peter was wrong. He was leading people astray and at worst was endangering people’s faith with his sin. Someone had to do something, and that someone was Paul: But when Cephas came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he was clearly wrong. When Paul saw the sin face-to-face, he confronted Peter face-to-face. Why did he do that? Not because he wanted to gain notoriety among the Christians, not because he wanted to hurt Peter’s reputation or his feelings, but it was because of love. Paul didn’t want Peter led astray by his sin and threaten his faith, he didn’t want others led astray by this error and false teaching. Paul confronted the sin because he loved Peter and wanted to bring him back.

And that’s the same motivation we should have whenever we confront someone with their sin. We are not looking to “win” or prove how much better of a person we are than them (because we’re not!), nor are we trying to humble them and bring them down. No, Jesus is clear why you would go and show the fault to your brother who sins against you—to win him over, to win him back, to lead him to repentance.

When sin is out of control it divides us from God and can separate us from his forgiveness. We don’t want that to happen to anyone, so we talk to them about it. We don’t want that to happen to us, so we should look forward to someone speaking to us about our sins, as difficult as that conversation may be in the moment.

The end goal is not making someone feel bad but rejoicing together in the forgiveness of Jesus. That is repentance: not just sorrow over sin, but trust in the complete forgiveness that God freely gives and the desire to turn away from that sin in thanksgiving to God. No matter what the sin is, Jesus died for it. No matter how much control it may feel like it has over our lives, Jesus has forgiven it. And we can be there to support each other, not just in calling out and naming sin, but in helping each other fend it off, to avoid temptation, to support, care for, and encourage one another in this walk of faith through this world so thoroughly corrupted by sin.

So, it’s important to remember that all who are susceptible to sin may need this from us, even people we look up to or might assume should be beyond our ability to help. Parents and grandparents, spouse or sibling, friend or coworker, pastor or other church leader—all of us can fall into sin’s deceitful and destructive path, and all of us need our brothers and sisters looking out for us to call us to repentance and point us to Jesus as the assurance of our forgiveness. It is not disrespectful or rude to confront sin; when done in love it is perhaps the most loving thing a person can do for us, or we can do for someone else.

Nothing is going to make those conversations comfortable. I’m sure both Paul’s and Peter’s heart rates were high during and after that conversation. But when love motivates us, when the eternal well-being of all involved drives us, then we will see this as uncomfortable but important, difficult but necessary, stressful but overflowing with loving care and concern.

So, let’s work together to point out sin in love. Because when we point out sin in love, that means that we are also pointing each other to the Savior who loved us, died for us, and rose from the dead to assure us that our sins are gone. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"We Hope for Future Joy" (Sermon on Romans 8:18-25) | September 3, 2023

Sermon Text: Romans 8:18-25
Date: September 3, 2023
Event: Proper 17, Year A (The Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Romans 8:18-25 (EHV)

For 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. 20For creation was subjected to futility, not by its own will, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in the hope 21that even creation itself will be set free from slavery to corruption, in order to share in the glorious freedom of the children of God.

22For we know that all of creation is groaning with birth pains right up to the present time. 23And not only creation, but also we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we eagerly await our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body. 24Indeed, it was for this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is not hope, because who hopes for what he already sees? 25But if we hope for something we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with patient endurance.

We Hope for Future Joy

Think back to something you were really anticipating. A birthday or Christmas because you were hoping for a specific present? Maybe it was a wedding, anniversary, birth of a child or grandchild, a vacation, or anything else that you were really looking forward to. What were your hopes and dreams about that event? Were they met or exceeded? Were you left disappointed?

No matter how you felt about what you were anticipating, one thing was for sure—when the event was over and done, you weren’t anticipating it anymore. Good or bad, fulfilling or disappointing, meaningful or forgettable, you were not looking ahead to it anymore because it had already passed.

Now, that may seem painfully obvious, but it actually does factor into our faith life. Because faith, trust, is a lot of anticipating, it’s a lot of looking forward to what is to come, to what God has promised. That faith is challenged because the things around us don’t often seem to support what God said is coming. Our reason and emotions can fight against us as we struggle to go through this life but also look ahead to what is to come. So, let’s take a honest appraisal of the here and now and what God says will come after this life, and let us hope for the future joy he has promised.

While we will focus on our Second Reading for this morning’s sermon, Jesus’ words in the Gospel set the tone for us, and his words be a bit disheartening. We might want to think that, because we are Christians, things in this life should be simple and straight forward. Whole branches of supposedly Christian churches base their whole theology on the idea that if you really love God, then you will be happy and healthy and wealthy, because that’s what God wants for you and so that’s what he’s going to do. How does that so-called “prosperity gospel” sync up with Jesus’ words? “If anyone wants to follow me, let him deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me. In fact whoever wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. After all, what will it benefit a person if he gains the whole world, but forfeits his soul? Or what can a person give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:24-26).

“Cross bearing,” suffering, and even losing one’s life is probably not what we might naturally think should happen for people clinging to God’s promises. Yet, that’s what Jesus says is coming in this life. No promise of wealth or health or anything like that. Just “deny [your]self, take up [your] cross, and follow me.”

Humanly speaking, that doesn’t bode well for the future. If I look ahead to later today, later this week, the coming years should God grant them, I want those to be filled with joy. I want to know that I’m looking ahead to something good. But, that’s not necessarily what is going to happen.

On the one hand, that’s deflating. But on the other hand, maybe that’s comforting. Because if God had promised joy and peace and wealth and health and I was sad and uneasy and poor and sick, I would have good reason to wonder if God was telling me the truth. But, if I see hardship and misery in my life, the fact that God says this life will be filled with cross-bearing, well, at least he’s being honest with me, even if this is not at all what I would choose for myself.

But that takes us to Paul’s words in our Second Reading for this morning. Paul presupposes the idea of cross bearing and trouble and hardship and misery in this world of sin. The Christians living in Rome, to whom Paul wrote, certainly experienced their own shares of hardships either for being Christians or just because they lived in a sin-corrupted world. But Paul doesn’t make up promises of blessings that God never promised like so many prosperity gospel preachers do in our day—he points the Roman Christians and us as well ahead to what God has actually promised, to the real joy that is coming, not now but in eternity.

Paul begins, “I conclude that our sufferings at the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us.” What does that mean? Well, when you have the good that is coming you won’t even think about the bad that came before. Let’s put it in earthly terms. Let’s say you fell and bruised your arm and scraped up your knee; not horrible but not pleasant. But what if, while you were on the ground, you looked and you found that treasured heirloom that had been missing for a long time right in front of you? What if you discovered some money long-since forgotten about just lying there? What if your pet’s favorite toy that had been MIA for months was hiding just in sight and reach of where you fell? Your joy in finding that lost or forgotten item probably makes the scrape and bruise kind if disappear into the ether. Yeah, it happened, yeah it wasn’t great, but what ended up happening was so much better, it wasn’t even worth thinking about.

So, too, Paul says that for as miserable as life here can be and will be, what is coming is so much greater that the suffering becomes an afterthought, a footnote. Not unimportant, not silly, not laughable in the moment. They are real, difficult sufferings. But compared to what is coming? Don’t even bother comparing them because they are on such different plains.

Paul points out that sin has a negative effect not just on us, but on the whole of creation: Creation is waiting with eager longing for the sons of God to be revealed. For creation was subjected to futility, not by its own will, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in the hope that even creation itself will be set free from slavery to corruption, in order to share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. We can see this corruption of nature in fires, droughts, famines, earthquakes, hurricanes, tornados, floods. Natural disasters stand as a stark reminder that this world we live in is not the world as God originally designed it; the world around us is suffering under the load of sin that we have brought to it.

But even creation itself is looking forward to future joy. That will come when the sons of God [are] revealed. In this context, sons are the inheritors, as they were most commonly in Paul’s day. So, the revelation of the sons of God has nothing to do with gender and everything to do with blessing. Creation waits for the God’s heirs to be revealed.

And what does that mean? That’s the future joy we hope for. While we’re bearing crosses in this life, there’s not much that would show us to be the heirs of God, his children. But creation is waiting for the day when that will be made public that it too might share in the glorious freedom of the children of God. Because the last day of this world will be the last day of present-time sufferings, cross-bearing, and suffering for the sake of Jesus. When Jesus returns, everything will be different to a degree that we can’t even really comprehend.

Paul puts the focus back on us: And not only creation, but also we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we eagerly await our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body. Indeed, it was for this hope we were saved. If creation is waiting for that revelation with eager longing, what about us? Does that term Paul uses, “groan inwardly,” resonate for you? It’s a wildly fitting description of so much of this life. So much pull and press us: suffering at the hands of others, guilt over our failures and sins, missed opportunities and unfulfilled dreams and desires. All of that, and so much more, cause us to groan inwardly, to have these existential crises, and have us pleading to God for help, for relief, for something better…

I conclude that our sufferings at the present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is going to be revealed to us. My brothers and sisters, what is coming? What are we waiting for? What is the future joy that we hope for? We look to our Savior, the one who not just bore crosses in his life, but bore the cross, suffered hell in our place, and forgave our sin. That sin is the root cause of every problem and heartache that we have in this life. One way or another, everything that causes us to groan inwardly is traced back to sin.

But how can we know this hope is reliable? How can we know that we’re not clinging to fantasies and delusions created by our own grief-stricken minds? Paul says that we have the firstfruits of the Spirit. That firstfruits of the Spirit is the faith that clings to God’s promises as certain and trustworthy. Writing to Pastor Timothy in his last letter, Paul phrases it this way: “Through the Holy Spirit, who lives in us, guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you” (2 Timothy 1:14). The Holy Spirit’s indwelling and the faith he gives and strengthens is the deposit, the seed, the preview of what is to come.

So, we have a glimpse, a glimmer, of what lies ahead. This life may be full of sorrow and suffering, but what joy does it bring to your heart to know that your God loves you, that he’s forgiven your sins and rescued you from eternal death? Even if we had nothing beyond that as positive in our lives, it would point to the future joy that is coming, the future joy that God has promised, the future joy that we hope for as a certainty because God has said it is certain. Indeed, it was for this hope we were saved. (Note the past tense here—saved. This is not something that is yet to happen, but something that God has already accomplished for us.) But hope that is seen is not hope, because who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for something we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with patient endurance.

We already said that you don’t anticipate something that has already happened. Maybe you look back on it, think about it, and relive it, but you don’t anticipate it, you don’t hope for it. Paul is making a very similar point that he made when he wrote to the Corinthians: And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13:13). Faith, hope, and love are all amazing blessings from God. But why does love stand above them all? Because it is the one that lasts forever.

As Pastor Natsis in Livermore and I were studying this text this past Monday, he made an observation that I felt was really beautiful and profound. He said, “Hope has a glorious expiration date.” There will come a time where we will not have to hope for future joy because we will already have it. There will come a day when we will not need faith to trust what God has promised because we will be living that as reality. But in that day, in those glorious courts of heaven, when we have the full inheritance promised by our God for the sake of Jesus, love will remain. God’s love for us will reign over us without end forever. We will be perfect and living with him because Jesus took away our sins.

That is the future joy we hope for. In this life of suffering and pain, there will be times when the hope is difficult to hold on to. But we pray for God’s blessings to have that patient endurance as we go through this life, as we look forward to the perfect life to come.

Lord, keep our faith and hope in you strong as we navigate this difficult life until you bring us home to be with you forever in heaven. Amen.

"Who Is the LORD?" (Sermon on Exodus 34:5-9) | August 26, 2023

Sermon Text: Exodus 34:5–9
Date: August 26, 2023
Event: Proper 16, Year A (The Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Exodus 34:5–9 (EHV)

The LORD came down in the cloud. He took his stand there with Moses and proclaimed the name of the LORD. 6The LORD passed by in front of him and proclaimed: “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, and overflowing with mercy and truth, 7maintaining mercy for thousands, forgiving guilt and rebellion and sin. He will by no means clear the guilty. He calls their children and their children’s children to account for the guilt of the fathers, even to the third and the fourth generation.”

8Moses quickly bowed to the ground and worshipped. 9He said, “If I have now found favor in your sight, Lord, please let the Lord go along with us. Although this is a stiff-necked people, pardon our guilt and our sin, and accept us as your possession.” 

Who Is the LORD?

Earlier this week, I got a somewhat surprising email. It was inviting me to a speaker at a Christian conference in London in November. That would be interesting and a new experience, but I had one major question before I could even begin down the path of thinking about doing such a thing. The invitation was sent by a pastor whom I had never heard of before. Who was this person?

As I dug into the information, it became clear that this was probably a group that we were not in fellowship with, which would have made participating in such a thing probably a non-starter anyway. But as I dug in more and did some more reading, it appeared that this, like so many things anymore, was a complete scam. If I had expressed interest in participating, they would have let me know that I would need a temporary work visa to come and present, and time was running out to get that done before the conference, but if I would just pay a $400 fee to expedite it, they could get it set in time. If I were to send them $400, I would likely never hear from them again—unless they were trying to get more money from me.

When it comes to communication of any kind, you want to know who you’re working with. When PG&E calls and says there’s a problem with your bill—is it really PG&E or someone trying to take advantage of you? The more important the situation, the more sure you want to be who you’re dealing with right? What if your utilities were going to be cut off? What if a loved one was in physical or legal trouble? Was the information you were getting valid? Are you talking to who you think you are talking to?

This morning, our worship focuses on wanting to know who Jesus is. The crowds were confused as to who Jesus was and what he had come to do, Peter’s confession clearly professed Jesus as the promised Savior. In our First Reading, we hear God describe himself, and Moses’ reaction to it. When we’re dealing with God, who are we dealing with? What can we expect from him? What has he promised? What has he not promised? Who is the LORD?

The context of our First Reading is important. Moses had just been up on top of the mountain to receive the law from God. God cut out two tablets of stone and inscribed his words on both sides. He gave them to Moses to deliver to the Israelites to give God’s commands to them.

But as Moses and his assistant Joshua were coming down the mountain, they heard a commotion in the camp. Joshua initially thought it was the sound of war, but Moses’ ears noted that it wasn’t the sound of victory or defeat, but the sound of partying.

And sure enough, when they came down the mountain some more, Moses found many of the people going wild worshiping a calf statue made of gold that Aaron, Moses’ brother, made at the people’s request. God had just rescued the nation from slavery in Egypt working tremendous miracles including the plagues and the parting of the Red Sea,  but the people almost immediately jumped to worshiping a god they had just made—and Aaron, supposedly the religious leader of the group, was complicit in facilitating this idolatry.

Moses is so angry at what he sees that he takes those stone tablets that God made and carved his words into and smashes them on the ground. He took the golden calf, burned it, ground it up, and made the people drink it in the water. The next day, Moses announced that he would go up and plead for the people to God, “Now I will go up to the LORD. Perhaps I can gain atonement for your sin” (Exodus 32:30b). When Moses went up to meet with God, he told them to go on their way to the Promised Land, but God said that he would not be going with them.

Moses continued to plead the people’s case and appealed to God’s promises to be with them and take care of them as well as his reputation before the other nations of the world. God then promised that he would go with them as planned, and Moses made a bold request: “Please show me your glory” (Exodus 33:18). God is clear that Moses cannot see his full-fledged glory or else Moses would die, but he would give Moses a view of a lesser version of his glory.

And that’s what we have here. This is God showing Moses his glory. Before that could happen, though, God told Moses to cut out of the rock two new stone tablets for the law to replace the ones Moses had destroyed in anger—a bit of a chastisement and consequence for Moses’ sin in front of the people.

So, who is the LORD? We can find no better definition than God’s own description of himself. As the pillar of cloud and fire descended next to Moses and stood at his side, God defined himself: “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, and overflowing with mercy and truth, maintaining mercy for thousands, forgiving guilt and rebellion and sin. He will by no means clear the guilty. He calls their children and their children’s children to account for the guilt of the fathers, even to the third and the fourth generation.”

What do we learn here? God leads with his primary driver—his compassion and graciousness, slow to anger, overflowing with mercy and faithfulness. The word mercy that God uses to describe himself is very similar to the concept of grace that is fleshed out in the New Testament. This is God’s free and faithful love. This is love that forgives people who are not worthy—which is everyone, including you and me. First and foremost, God wants Moses, the Israelites, and you and me to know that he loves and forgives you.

However, it’s not all gospel. God is both loving and just. He will by no means clear the guilty. That sounds a touch scary, doesn’t it? Because who is guilty of wrongdoing? You and me, right? We are sinners. Does this unwillingness from God to clear the guilty mean that we are still in our sins? Is there no actual way to get out from underneath God’s justice, to avoid the punishment we deserve because of our sins?

We know the term justification or justified is a courtroom term where the judge announces that someone is not guilty. In the context of God’s promises and the faith he gives, God is announcing to you and me that though we have sinned, we are not guilty; though we deserve punishment, he does not hold us accountable. Why? Not because he ignored the sin or pretended it didn’t happen or somehow ceased to be a just God. No, but in his mercy, he sent Jesus to be our Savior. We are not guilty because Jesus took the responsibility for all our sins on himself. You might compare it to a credit card—you and I racked up the debt, and Jesus paid the bill. We owe nothing because Jesus paid it in full.

So then, the person who is guilty is not the person who simply sins (as we all do every day), but the one who rejects this forgiveness from God. Jesus died to pay for the sins of the whole world. We were reminded last week that there is no human being on the face of this planet for whom Jesus did not die when we saw and heard Jesus’ interaction with the Canaanite woman (Matthew 15:21-28). But if I reject God’s forgiveness, if I ignore it, if I tell God, “Thanks but no thanks,” I stand in my sin. I stand before God guilty of every wrongdoing because I’ve thrown away his free and complete solution to my sin. In that state, God has no choice but to hold us accountable. The guilty who spit on God’s forgiveness will not be cleared.

And what disastrous consequences this attitude has! It can trickle down the generations. If Mom and Dad value God’s forgiveness and teach his promises to his children, there’s a good chance that the children will grow up valuing these things as well. If, however, Mom and Dad don’t value these things, there’s an even better chance that the children won’t either, or perhaps, won’t even know about them. And so, the parent’s rejection can lead to the generations that follow to also reject God’s mercy and forgiveness.

Do you hear Moses’ concern, maybe fear, in what he does next? Moses quickly bowed to the ground and worshipped. He said, “If I have now found favor in your sight, Lord, please let the Lord go along with us. Although this is a stiff-necked people, pardon our guilt and our sin, and accept us as your possession.”  At hearing this description of the LORD, hearing God declare his glory in front of him, Moses’ reaction is to throw himself on the ground in God’s presence and plead for himself and the people.

And I want you to pay careful attention to the text in your service folder or your Bible this morning for our First Reading. Notice how when God uses the word “LORD” it is in small capital letters and how when Moses uses it in vv. 8-9, it is capitalized like a normal word? This is not a formatting quirk or mistake in the printing. This is an attempt to show us what is going on in the original Hebrew text.

When you see the small capital letters LORD in your English Bible, that is a special, personal, covenant name for God. It marks him as unique among anything else that someone might consider a “God” or “divine.” This is his reputation, what he longs to be known for. This name, likely pronounced Yahweh, is derived from the conversation God had with Moses at the burning bush where God told Moses that his name is “I AM WHO I AM.” (Exodus 3:14).

But when Moses pleads before God, he doesn’t use this name. He uses the more generic term translated as “Lord” with regular capitalization in our English bibles. This would be the term someone might use to speak to a governmental leader, a boss, or a parent with whom we might be very formal. In modern English, we might even say something like “Sir” instead of “Lord.”

This is not Moses being disrespectful to God—really, just the opposite. As he pleads for the people and for himself, Moses doesn’t even dare to address God by that beautiful, important, covenant name. Moses recognizes they don’t deserve good from God, but they need good from him. They need his forgiveness, and they need him to go with them to the Promised Land. They will never survive here or in eternity without him.

We throw ourselves before God in a similar manner. All of us gathered here are all too familiar with our sins. Not one of us should be here because we think we’re so much better than other people; we should be here because we know that we are not. We know that our sin is a stench in our Creator’s nostrils and that while we may not have run wild worshiping a gold statue of a cow, we certainly have our own idols in our lives. What things do we love more than God? What things in our life often take priority over him? Our work? Our money? Our children? Our schooling? Our social life? Our intimate relationships? Our entertainment? Our favorite sports teams? Truly, we too are a stiff-necked people.

Jesus asked his disciples “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” (Matthew 16:13), there were all sorts of answers, all of them complimentary, but not of them complete. Peter’s faith-spurred answer was a bright spot in what was kind of run of floundering faith for the disciples, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16). In other words, “You are the Savior that was promised.”

It is appropriate that Jesus’ name literally means “The LORD Saves.” Not “Our Boss Saves” or “My Master Saves” but “The LORD (Yahweh) Saves.” Who is the LORD? Who is Jesus? Who is he that saves? The compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, and overflowing with mercy and truth, maintaining mercy for thousands, forgiving guilt and rebellion and sin.

Yes, our sin seems to know no bounds. Yes, given the opportunity, we would dive headlong into sin and debauchery that make even the most morally loose person blush or be filled with disgust. Yes, we deserve nothing but punishment from our God. But the LORD saves. The one who did not destroy the Israelites in the wilderness for their unfaithfulness will not destroy us for our unfaithfulness, because he forgives our sins. Though we do not deserve it, he has mercy on us; he gives us his undeserved love, his grace.

Our plea to God is the same as Moses’ was, “Pardon our guilt and our sin, and accept us as your possession.” “Please,” we pray, “take ownership of us. Rescue us from sin and death and hell and make us your possession, your inheritance. Without you we are lost; with you we are safe.” And to this plea, God replies, “You ask for my forgiveness? I am the LORD. That is who I am: your God, your Creator, your Savior.” Thanks be to God, who frees us from sin through Jesus Christ! Amen.

"God's Promises Are for All" (Sermon on Matthew 15:21-28) | August 20, 2023

Sermon Text: Matthew 15:21–28
Date: August 20, 2023
Event: Proper 15, Year A (The Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost)

Matthew 15:21–28 (EHV)

Jesus left that place and withdrew into the region of Tyre and Sidon. 22There a Canaanite woman from that territory came and kept crying out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! A demon is severely tormenting my daughter!”

23But he did not answer her a word.

His disciples came and pleaded, “Send her away, because she keeps crying out after us.”

24He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

25But she came and knelt in front of him, saying, “Lord, help me.”

26He answered her, “It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to their little dogs.”

27“Yes, Lord,” she said, “yet their little dogs also eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

28Then Jesus answered her, “Woman, your faith is great! It will be done for you, just as you desire.” And her daughter was healed at that very hour.

God’s Promises Are for All

If you were hosting a barbeque at a park and you had more food than you knew what to do with and someone came up to you that you did not know and was not part of your group, but was hungry and wondered if he could have something to eat, what would you do? I would assume unless there was a really good reason not to, most of us would give him as much of whatever he wanted—maybe finding a way for him to take more home than he could multiple meals from your grilled abundance.

But does that change if you’ve made a very carefully proportioned meal for your family and there’s just enough of everyone’s favorite foods for everyone to have enough? What about a special meal celebrating a birthday or anniversary? What if someone came up and asked if they could have that food?

At that moment, while we would want to help the person certainly, maybe we would be hesitant to give up that specific food. Maybe you’d offer to order something else, take him to the grocery store, or do something else to help provide for his needs. But that special food prepared for a special purpose? Perhaps we would think that off limits, and understandably so.

It appears that we have something similar going on in our Gospel for this morning. We are picking up Jesus’ ministry just after the feeding of the 5,000. As we heard last week, Jesus met the disciples by walking out to them on the water. That was when Peter displayed bold yet fragile faith in asking to come out to Jesus on the water. After that, they landed at Gennesaret, on the northwest shore of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus healed many of the sick people in that area.

The Pharisees came to him from Jerusalem to try to accuse him of wrongdoing because Jesus did not have his disciples keep all the man-made traditions of the people. Jesus was clear with them about how some of the traditions they followed put them at odds with God’s actual commands, and so they were in error in thinking that the traditions needed to be upheld at all costs.

At the start of our Gospe for this morning, having finished the conversation with the Pharisees in Galielee he learn that Jesus left that place and withdrew into the region of Tyre and Sidon. Tyre and Sidon were cities outside of Judea and Galilee, northwest of Galilee right on the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, in Phoenicia. Depending on where exactly they were at any given time, they could have been 30-50 miles away from the cities around the Sea of Galilee. This was no small trek; the crowds would not follow this far. Perhaps now they would get the alone time they were all desperately craving after hearing that John the Baptist had been killed.

Not quite. There a Canaanite woman from that territory came and kept crying out, “Have mercy on me, Lord, Son of David! A demon is severely tormenting my daughter!” Can you feel it, deep in your bones? How must the disciples have been feeling, hoping that they would finally have time to rest after they make this trek, that surely no one here would recognize them—or Jesus? And then, not his name, but very specific titles ring out through the air: Lord, Son of David! These are titles that express clear faith in the promised Messiah, and they are identifying Jesus as the fulfillment of the promise of the Savior for the world. These are the words of a believer.

But which mouth speaks these words? Not the religious leaders from Jerusalem who were just accusing him of wrongdoing. Not the crowds in Galilee who were looking for the next free meal from Jesus. This is not a Jewish believer living in this Gentile area who happens to recognize Jesus. No, these words are spoken by a Canaanite woman—a Gentile herself. She was not a part of Israel or of the bloodline of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; in the parallel account in Mark’s Gospel, we learn that she was Greek (Mark 7:26).

How does Jesus respond to this amazing, faith-filled pleading of this Gentile believer? He did not answer her a word. That seems a touch out of character for Jesus, doesn’t it? Doesn’t the Bible emphasize time and again that God hears and answers the prayers of those who trust in him? God doesn’t say there’s a chance that he’ll ignore our please when we cry out to him. Even the disciples recognize that this is a bit weird for Jesus to literally say nothing and they encourage him, “Send her away, because she keeps crying out after us.” In other words, “Jesus, we’re not sure why you’re not helping this woman or acknowledging her, but if this is really the plan, can you do something to make this constant yelling stop?”

At this, Jesus does respond to the woman, but not in any way that we might expect. He doesn’t heed the call of the disciples and shoo her away, nor does he have clear compassion on her. In fact, he’s kind of… rude? “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Yet, despite this cold response, she is not deterred. Her daughter is not well with supernatural suffering and nothing will stand in her way to get the help she knows Jesus can provide. She came and knelt in front of him, saying, “Lord, help me.”

And if Jesus’ first statement was questionably rude, his second statement seems unavoidably in that realm: “It is not good to take the children’s bread and throw it to their little dogs.” How might you have responded? I know how I would have been tempted, were I in her shoes, “Oh, I’m a dog then? Who do you think you are to speak to me that way?!” Or at least, just throw my hands and seek another solution to my problems, because this guy clearly wouldn’t or couldn’t help.

But the woman knew who Jesus was and also knew that he was not really speaking falsehoods, was he? She had every reason to give up, to not trust what God had promised. She wasn’t Jewish, therefore not a part of the “chosen people.” She was being ignored and even rebuffed by Jesus, but still, she holds on, still, she clings to the promise and the object of her faith—that Jesus could and, in fact, would heal her daughter. “Yes, Lord,” she said, “yet their little dogs also eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.”

Can you see Jesus’ face? Can you see how wide his eyes get? Can you see the corners of his mouth, probably coldly stern for this whole scene, now curling into a delighted smile? Jesus knew her faith; as God, he could see it. But he wanted her to see her faith for what it is, and for his disciples to see as well. And if we’re thinking broadly enough, he also wanted you and me to hear this woman’s bold, persistent, confident faith.

Was it true that Jesus was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel? Hardly! Many times in the Gospels we see Jesus journeying into Gentile and Samaritan lands, teaching and working miracles for them as well. But even beyond that, we know that the promises of Jesus’ work beyond teaching and miracles were not for one group, but for the world. We heard this promise of God through Isaiah’s pen in our First Reading: Then the foreigners who join themselves to the Lord, to minister to him and to love the name of the Lord and to become his servants… I will bring them to my holy mountain, and I will make them glad in my house of prayer.… For my house will be called a house of prayer for all the peoples of the world.… “I will gather still more people to my house besides the ones already gathered” (Isaiah 56:6-8). The Messiah’s work of forgiveness of sins was always for all people, regardless of race or gender or ethnicity or anything else that might divide one group of people from another.

But does it always feel like that? Do you ever feel like an outsider looking in at church? Do you find yourself comparing yourself to what you know about the people sitting around here? Do you feel like you don’t measure up to others? Do you feel that you don’t deserve good from God?

Well, you’re right. You don’t deserve good from God; you don’t measure up to God’s standards of perfection. But God’s promises are thankfully not based on our merit but on his love and faithfulness. He doesn’t love you because you are loveable; he loves you in spite of your being unlovable by nature. He doesn’t forgive your sins because you’re so good (what a wildly contradictory statement that is!); he forgives you because you need him to, he’s promised to, and Jesus lived and died in your place to accomplish that.

As you sit here in a worship service, Satan is fuming. He can’t stand the fact that you’re, once again, putting yourself in contact with God’s Word. So, he’s got one trick up his sleeve even as you are in this space. Earlier, when we went through the confession of sins and the declaration of grace, did you hear him? Did you hear Satan’s whisper, the doubt he tries to place in our hearts? “Oh, yes, when the pastor says the congregation’s sins are forgiven, they surely are—for everyone except you. God could never forgive you for what you did and said. If these people here knew your thoughts, they would never let you set foot in this place.”

Does that sound or feel familiar? If not, I’m very thankful for you, but I can assure you that it feels all too familiar for me. This is powerful because it is, as Satan normally works, a half-truth. There are things there that resonate; he’s not just making things up whole cloth. Can you imagine the reaction you’d get if everyone here could read your thoughts? What if they knew everything you had ever done? Would they ever want to associate with you at all? Would they ever speak to you again? Would they ever listen to another sermon fumbled by these unclean lips?

The half-lie part of that doubt from Satan, though, is that it doesn’t matter what other people think of us, it matters what God thinks of us. And it’s true that if we compare ourselves to others, we come up lacking because we don’t know all of their faults and we’re very aware of our own. But Satan’s lie is that God’s promise of love and forgiveness could be rendered void because of who someone is are or what someone has done, as if we had the power to twist and change God. That does not happen.

What is the promise? That God loves you and forgives you and nothing can possibly change that. That was Jesus’ whole purpose—to live a life of perfection for us and to die on the cross to pay for the sins of the entire world—including ours. And that promise stands, unmovable, even if Jesus himself wondered out loud why he should give someone like you the blessings he’s promised. Faith clings to the promises of God and holds God accountable to those promises. And this, my dear brothers and sisters, is what God loves. So firmly trusting what he’s promised that we would even hold him responsible for those promises? Not letting anything deter us for calling out to him? That is not insolent or arrogant. No, rather, at this he says to you and to me, “Your faith is great!”

This has implications for us as a congregation as well. No one walks through those doors for whom Jesus did not die. Maybe someone walks through them not knowing that, or not believing it’s for them, or really doubting that there’s any possibility of this applying to them. But everyone who comes into this space, regardless of age, gender, languages spoken, or anything else, is a precious soul whom Jesus gave his life to save. We should be ready to share the love of our God with everyone—even the people who don’t look like us or think like us or have experiences like us.

And it’s not just true of people walking into this church. This is true of every single other people you ever meet. The greatest philanthropist, the most hardened criminal, the wealthy, the poor, the powerful, the weak, all of these groups from the world’s standards couldn’t me more different, right? But what is the commonality they all share? All are sinners in need of forgiveness, and all have that forgiveness freely given in the blood of Jesus shed for them.

So God’s promises are, in fact, for all. No one is left to be the starving dog outside, unable to eat and destined to perish. No, everyone is forgiven for Jesus’ sake. Everyone; the world. My dear brother, my dear sister, that includes you as well. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"God Comforts with Quiet Calm" (Sermon on 1 Kings 19:9-18) | August 13, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Kings 19:9–18
Date: August 13, 2023
Event: Proper 14, Year A (The Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost)

1 Kings 19:9–18 (EHV)

He came to a cave and spent the night there.

Then the word of the Lord suddenly came to him, saying, “Why are you here, Elijah?”

10He said, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of Armies, but the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant. They have torn down your altars and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking to take my life.”

11Then the Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is passing by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains and shattered rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.

After the wind came an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.

12After the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.

After the fire there was a soft, whispering voice.

13When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak, and he went out and stood at the entrance to the cave. Then a voice came to him and said, “Why are you here, Elijah?”

14He said, “I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of Armies, but the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant. They have torn down your altars and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking to take my life.”

15Then the Lord said to him, “Go back the way you came and go to the Wilderness of Damascus. When you get there, you are to anoint Hazael as king over Aram. 16You will also anoint Jehu son of Nimshi as king over Israel and Elisha son of Shaphat from Abel Meholah as prophet in your place. 17Whoever escapes the sword of Hazael, Jehu will kill, and whoever escapes the sword of Jehu, Elisha will kill. 18But I have preserved in Israel seven thousand whose knees have not bent to Baal and whose lips have not kissed him.”

God Comforts with Quiet Calm

The older I get, the more I find myself identifying with the prophet Elijah. His work was not easy and his response to those difficulties feels very familiar. Maybe they feel a bit familiar to you too. But the underlying truth is that over and over again, God comforted Elijah in his distress. He provided for him, took care of him in miraculous ways, and was exceptionally patient with his prophet. So, too, God is comforting and patient with us. Our Creator and Savior’s quiet calm brings peace and comfort when the world around us or inside of us is nothing but turmoil and upheaval.

Let’s spend just a couple of moments reviewing what led Elijah to the point that he was at in our First Reading for this morning. If you recall last week, our First Reading was from very early on his Elijah’s ministry. God had called him to be his prophet to the Northern Kingdom of Israel which had broken away from the Southern Kingdom of Judah after the death of King Solomon. And while both pieces of this fractured nation left a lot to be desired spiritually, the Northern Kingdom was in an especially rough place. Never did they have a truly believing king ruling over them, and eventually they would be completely wiped out by Assyria.

But before we get that far, we see God’s grace over and over again to his unfaithful and apostate people. The existence of Elijah’s ministry is proof of that. Despite the nation largely not caring about what God said or did, he continued to send messengers with his Word to call them back to himself. Whether it was to the individual people or to the rulers, God sought the souls of those people precious to him. He didn’t want them led astray by their sin; he didn’t want their devotion to false gods to be their eternal undoing. So, Elijah and others were sent to bring God’s Word to the people.

We heard that last week. One of the earliest things Elijah had to do was to go and declare to wicked King Ahab that there would be a massive drought—no rain until Elijah said there would be rain, and then God sent Elijah to the Kerith Ravine and provided for his needs there. Eventually, the drought got so severe that the brook dried up and God sent Elijah outside of Israel, to the nation of Sidon, to a town named Zarephath, where he miraculously provided for Elijah, a window, and her son with jars of flour and oil that never ran out.

Eventually, we make our way to one of the tent-pole accounts of the Old Testament: Elijah proposed a challenge to the prophets of the false god Baal at the top of Mount Carmel. He would make an altar on the mountain and place a sacrifice on it and the prophets of Baal were to do the same; then the contest would begin. Both the prophets of Baal and Elijah would call out to their respective deities, and the deity who answered by sending fire to consume the sacrifice would be shown to be the true God. Of course, the fictional Baal did not do anything, but when Elijah called on the Lord, he sent fire from the heavens which consumed the sacrifice, and even licked up the trench of water around the altar! After seeing this, the people proclaimed their faith in the true God, and the prophets of Baal were put to death.

What a victory for the truth! What a high point in Elijah’s ministry! Well, sort of. Because that event is really a direct lead-in to the events of our First Reading for this morning. Queen Jezebel, a devoted follower of Baal and the equally fake goddess Asherah, vowed to kill Elijah after the events at Mount Carmel. So, in fear, desperation, and likely depression, Elijah ran away. In the verses prior to our First Reading, we’re told that Elijah went on his own into the wilderness, “he sat down under a broom tree, where he prayed that he would die. He said, ‘I’ve had enough, Lord. Take my life, for I am no better than my fathers.’ Then he lay down and went to sleep under the broom tree” (1 Kings 19:4-5). An angel came and tended to Elijah, providing him with food and drink and then encouraging him to sleep more. Then empowered by the rest and another meal from the angel, Elijah was able to journey to Mount Horeb, where we meet up with him in our First Reading: He came to a cave and spent the night there.

Then the word of the Lord suddenly came to him, saying, “Why are you here, Elijah?” Can you hear the questions behind God’s question? “Why are you here, Elijah? Don’t you have other things to be doing? Didn’t I just work a great victory for you and the message I sent you to proclaim? Why are you afraid of the enemies I’ve conquered for you? Why are you here and not where I sent you to go?”

“I have been very zealous for the Lord, the God of Armies, but the people of Israel have abandoned your covenant. They have torn down your altars and killed your prophets with the sword. I alone am left, and they are seeking to take my life.” Now, Elijah’s assessment of the situation is not entirely wrong, but it’s also not entirely accurate. But this is how Elijah’s feeling. In his heart, he is alone; in his heart, God’s enemies have all but won the day (despite the reality of Mount Carmel); in his heart, Elijah sees his faithfulness and dedication to God coming to nothing.

Given the context, we would probably understand if God swatted Elijah like an insolent fly, right? God had given him so much—directly worked miracles to preserve his life time and time again, and here he comes whining about how bad things are? Good grief, Elijah, get a grip on yourself, open your eyes, and see what’s before you! Look at what God is doing!

But that is not God’s response in the least. “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is passing by.” “God is passing by” in this case could be a scary thing. What is he coming to do? What is going to happen? And the first senses that get triggered for Elijah really speak of possible doom, don’t they? Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains and shattered rocks before the Lord, but we are told that the Lord was not in the wind.

Ok, the wind didn’t take Elijah out, but the next event is an even more frightening natural force: After the wind came an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. Then came an even more powerful feeling a looking force—one that we know firsthand how awful it can be whether we think of situations around us in California or this past week in Hawaii: After the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.

Three things that could have led to Elijah’s destruction for his lack of faith and three times the Lord was not in them. But then, the Lord arrives.

The parent holding a crying baby tries to soothe the child. The child is upset; things are really bad from the baby’s perspective. Maybe he’s hurting because he needs to burp or maybe he’s scared because there was a startling noise. But does the parent say, “Stop your whining, there’s nothing to be upset about!” Hardly! The parent will speak softly and kindly, and cradle the child in their arms to calm them. While the parent has the perspective that things are ok and we’ll work through this, the baby likely doesn’t have that perspective, so the parent gently comforts the child, helps them through whatever is troubling them, and maybe even helps them get back to sleep or back to playing or whatever the plan is for that moment.

After the fire there was a soft, whispering voice. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak, and he went out and stood at the entrance to the cave. Then a voice came to him and said, “Why are you here, Elijah?” God is not in the powerful wind, the trembling earthquake, or the blazing fire. But this soft, whispering voice? This is where God reveals himself. His question for Elijah is the same as it was before, and Elijah’s answer is identical as well. Nothing has changed; Elijah’s perspective is the same; things are bad.

God knows they are not as bad as Elijah feels they are, but he doesn’t scold Elijah, he doesn’t rebuke him, and he doesn’t chastise him for feeling the way that he feels. He gently, lovingly reassures Elijah. He directs him to the work he had to do—he was to anoint royal and prophetic successors. God had work for him, and he empowered him to get it done.

And what of Elijah’s claim that he was the only believer left in the Northern Kingdom? It’s likely that that was hyperbole even on Elijah’s part, but maybe it didn’t feel like it was that much of an exaggeration. God addresses that too, “I have preserved in Israel seven thousand whose knees have not bent to Baal and whose lips have not kissed him.”

Was Elijah alone? No! There were seven thousand people in Israel who did not worship Baal at all. Was this common, though? No, not at all. Seven thousand out of a nation probably numbering in the millions? That’s a minuscule fraction. God often describes his faithful people as a “remnant,” and this would be an example of that. Numerous? No. But completely gone? Never.

So, what about us? To one degree or another, we probably identify with Elijah, seeing God’s greatness and yet finding ourselves unable to trust it. We probably identify with Peter, wanting so much to trust and rely on God’s power to save us, but then we see the effects of the wind and see the waves of the storms in our lives, and we lose our focus and begin to sink into our own personal stormy seas. So, what would God have us take away from these accounts?

We know what this lack of trust deserves. God would have been justified in wiping out his whining prophet. Jesus could have let Peter drown because he didn’t maintain his trust in him. But that’s not how God treats us. He doesn’t come with raging wind, earthquakes, and fire to destroy us. He comes with his quiet comfort.

It’s noteworthy that throughout Jesus’ ministry, he had plenty of opportunity to address people who had clear sin in their lives. Not once does Jesus say this sin doesn’t matter, but he is only harsh with those who are proud of their sin. Most of the time, Jesus gives quiet, gentle encouragement to leave the life of sin behind and instead begin to serve God with their lives.

His message is the same for us too. He quietly but directly points us to the truth—we deserve hell for our sins, but he has saved us. His life and death in our place mean that we have the forgiveness of sins and the assurance of eternal life in heaven. We are not abandoned to the elements, we are not lost to hell, because Jesus has saved us.

And so, when we note a lack of trust like Elijah or Peter, we know that this sin, too, is forgiven. Our God loves us and quietly, gently notes our sin, assures us of his forgiveness, and then points us in the direction that we should go. A quiet calm whisper assures you through his Word, “I love you.” A small piece of bread and a sip of wine that hide Jesus’ true body and blood quietly say, “I forgive you.” The splash of water and the name of Triune God spoken over us serenely reminds you, “You are safe with me—now and forever.”

When it feels like everything is crashing down around you, when you feel like you’re the only one who cares about what God has said and done, when you feel alone and abandoned, when guilt overwhelms you, seek refuge in your God who comforts you with his quiet calm. His still, small voice whispers this most amazing truth: neither death nor life, neither angels nor rulers, neither things present nor things to come, nor powerful forces, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 8:38-39). Amen.

"Do You Trust the One Who Provides?" (Sermon on Matthew 14:13-21) | August 6, 2023

Sermon Text: Matthew 14:13-21
Date: August 6, 2023
Event: Proper 13, Year A (The Tenth Sunday after Pentecost)

Matthew 14:13-21 (EHV)

When Jesus heard this, he withdrew from there in a boat to a deserted place to be alone. When the crowds heard this, they followed him on foot from the towns.

14When Jesus got out of the boat, he saw a large crowd. He had compassion on them and healed their sick. 15When evening came, his disciples came to him and said, “This is a deserted place and the hour is already late. Send the crowds away, so that they can go into the villages and buy food for themselves.”

16But Jesus said to them, “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.”

17They told him, “We have here only five loaves and two fish.”

18“Bring them here to me,” he replied. 19Then he instructed the people to sit down on the grass. He took the five loaves and the two fish. After looking up to heaven, he blessed them. He broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples. The disciples gave the food to the people. 20They all ate and were filled. They picked up twelve basketfuls of what was left over from the broken pieces. 21Those who ate were about five thousand men, not even counting women and children.

Do You Trust the One Who Provides?

The young child calls out from the back seat, “Can we get ice cream now?” “No, dear, we said we would get ice cream after we have dinner with Grandma. We still need to drive for another hour to get to her house and then have dinner and then we’ll go get ice cream.” “Oh, ok…” is the quiet reply. 10 minutes later the question rings out again, “Can we get ice cream now?”

For the parents, maybe this incessant questioning is obnoxious as they’re trying to make the drive to visit family. But it does point to something very positive. The child trusts that Mom and Dad will keep their promise and they will get ice cream. Maybe the child thinks that the timing is negotiable, but there’s no doubt that it will be coming. Because if the child thought her parents were lying to her, she wouldn’t even bother to ask. If it wasn’t real, if it wasn’t going to happen, why bother? But, because she knew the promise was trustworthy, the questions kept filling the car.

The theme for our worship service this morning and especially of our Gospel is the promise that God will provide for us. But when we hear God’s promises, are we like the child who trusts and continually pleads to God for what he’s said he’s going to do, or do we fret and worry and thus dismiss his promises as fiction and assume we’re on our own? Do you trust the one who provides?

Our Gospel begins with the phrase, “When Jesus heard this,” which doesn’t tell us what “this” is, but the “this” is very important. Because if you were to open your Bible and look through the verses that come before our Gospel for this morning, you would see the retelling of John the Baptist being beheaded by Herod. The beginning of our reading for this morning comes hot on the heels of Matthew 14:12, “John’s disciples came, took the body, and buried it. Then they went and reported this to Jesus.”

Let’s pause for a moment and consider what that would have meant for Jesus. John was his relative, perhaps even his cousin, as both John's mother Elizabeth and Jesus’ mother Mary were relatives. We don’t know exactly how close they were growing up, but certainly the family bond existed between these two.

Then there was the more important link that John and Jesus shared in their work. John was called to be Jesus’ forerunner, to get people ready for his work. His preaching and teaching addressed the people’s sin and pointed them to Jesus—the Lamb of God—as their Savior. John’s work, promised by several prophets in the Old Testament, was absolutely vital in the God’s plan to save the world from sin.

Never mind those close connections, we see time and again how grieved Jesus is at death because death was not part of his original design for the world. While Jesus came to solve death caused by sin by his innocent death in the place of all people, he still was hit hard by the fact that people suffered these horrible wages of sin. Perhaps most notable was Jesus’ time outside of Lazarus’ tomb where he wept—and in that case he knew he was going to raise Lazarus from the dead in just a couple of minutes! But Jesus knew the loss of death, he knew the unnatural separation of having someone dear to you ripped away from you. As a man, he felt that; as God, he despised it and had to fix it.

So, it’s in this context that Jesus is seeking a deserted place to be alone. This is not just Jesus being tired from his work (though surely, he was), nor was he needing some time off from the hustle and bustle of the crowds (though surely, he did). But this was much more pointed—Jesus wanted to be alone to grieve. As a man, losing his relative; as God, seeing his dear creation endure death; and as the Savior seeing the one who prepared the way for him suffer such an ignoble end all were cause for great pain of heart and soul.

What happens next for the grieving Jesus? When the crowds heard this, they followed him on foot from the towns. When Jesus got out of the boat, he saw a large crowd. Can you feel it? What would have made sense for Jesus to be feeling and thinking? “I just needed this little bit of time by myself. I have nothing to give you all. Please leave me alone.” But we don’t see the veins starting to pop in Jesus’ neck. In fact, shockingly, we see just the opposite. He had compassion on them and healed their sick.

Here we see the heart of our Savior on display. When you come to God in prayer, what attitude do you envision God having? Do you think he’s the stern old man who’s not interested in your whining? Do you imagine your prayers have to stand in line for a chance to be heard by God? I think our minds and hearts can create all sorts of pictures. But I would encourage you, as you pray, to think of Jesus as he is here. According to his humiliation and human nature, desperately needing some alone time, but having his heart bleed for the people coming to him.

Trust the one who provides for you. He cares for you; he has compassion on you. It doesn’t matter who you are, what you’ve done, how “good” or “bad” you feel like you’ve been. You need him and he wants to pour himself out for you. Whether it’s the smaller day-to-day things of this life, the bigger life-and-death issues around us, or the eternal needs that we have, Jesus is there to provide. From our daily bread to the forgiveness of our sins and rescue from eternal death in hell, he provides it all. And the event that follows Jesus’ outpouring of compassion shows just the same thing.

Matthew tells us, “When evening came, his disciples came to him and said, ‘This is a deserted place and the hour is already late. Send the crowds away, so that they can go into the villages and buy food for themselves.’ ” We are not told what the disciples’ motivation is here exactly for coming to Jesus with this problem. It’s likely that they just had a legitimate concern for the people. Jesus had chosen this place because of its remoteness; it’s not a surprise that there weren’t a lot of places to secure food for a huge crowd.

But also, let’s consider how are the disciples doing. Remember that many of Jesus’ twelve disciples had been John the Baptist’s disciples before they started following Jesus. How were they taking the news of his execution? How much time were they wanting to grieve, to be by themselves? Maybe that evening would work well. Maybe the crowds could go and they could finally have that processing time, though a few hours after they originally had hoped.

Jesus’ answer is a bit surprising. “They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.” Why is that his answer? He knew that they had few resources with them compared to the number of people. In John’s Gospel we learn a bit more about Jesus’ mind, “Jesus was saying this to test him, for he himself knew what he was going to do” (John 6:6). What would Jesus be testing them on? Perhaps, he was looking to see if they would trust him as the one who provides.

The miracle that Jesus performs here—feeding a group possibly numbering 10 or 15,000 when you add women and children to the count of 5,000 men—with just a few bits of food and then having twelve basketfuls of leftovers really points to the rest of his care. Jesus was concerned for the people’s well-being. He wanted them to trust him; he wanted his disciples to trust him; and he showed that he could provide even in miraculous, baffling ways. This miracle is really Jesus saying, “You do not need to worry. I will take care of you.”

Do we trust the one who provides? God has promised that you will have what you need. Do you believe that? God has promised that he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do you believe that? God has promised to be your eternal Helper, your Savior. Do you believe that?

Because the providence of God is not limited to a nice meal in a remote part of the Holy Land. His care is not limited to ensuring that we have enough clothing and food and a roof over our heads. No, all of these things are important and certainly the result of his love and compassion for us, but they point to a much greater providence. The crowds would get confused after this. They would want Jesus to be their bread king—someone to provide them with food they didn’t have to work for. But Jesus will need to be clear that he didn’t ultimately come to be the source of food that is consumed and then is gone. No, he came to give them the bread of life—to be the Bread of Life for them.

Jesus’ ultimate goal is not that we have what we need in the here and now (though that is very important to him). Jesus’ ultimate goal is that we have what we need for eternity. And so, Jesus’ work was not primarily about healing diseases or driving out demons or feeding the masses a nice miracle meal; Jesus’ work was primarily about providing for that greatest need—the need for the forgiveness of sins.

These miracles are all in service of and signs pointing to the one who promised to provide that forgiveness and eternal life. Do you trust him to provide that? All we need to do is journey with him a bit longer in his earthly ministry. The crowds will get smaller and smaller as people lose interest. But the greater miracle is to come, as God himself suffers hell on the cross to pay for our sins and then, three days later, rises from the dead to prove his victory over sin, death, and the Devil.

That’s where his compassion for us leads him. That is where his promise to provide for our needs and to take care of us ends up. He serves not as the provider of the temporary, but of the eternal, not of bread that we could buy for money, but of eternal life that is priceless and also given to us as a free gift.

My brothers and sisters, in all things, earthly and eternal, let us trust the one who provides, for he is trustworthy. He provides our daily bread now; we will have no more needs when he provides eternal life for us with him in heaven. He lived and died for us so that we will live with him forever! Thanks be to God for providing all we need! Amen.

"Seek True Treasure" (Sermon on 1 Timothy 6:17-21) | July 30, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Timothy 6:17-21
Date: July 30, 2023
Event: Proper 12, Year A (The Ninth Sunday after Pentecost)

1 Timothy 6:17-21 (EHV)

Instruct those who are rich in this present age not to be arrogant or to put their hope in the uncertainty of riches, but rather in God, who richly supplies us with all things for our enjoyment. 18Instruct them to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share. 19In this way they are storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.

20O Timothy, guard what has been entrusted to you, turning away from godless, empty talk and the contradictions of what is falsely called “knowledge.” 21By professing it, some have veered away from the faith. Grace be with you. Amen. 

Seek True Treasure

Can you distinguish between something valuable and something that is kind of worthless? Between something rare and something common? Maybe if you look through a handful of change, your eyes are tuned to be able to spot the differences between all those quarters that are just worth 25 cents and the quarters that are special and worth a lot of money. Maybe your ears are tuned to know the difference between a sedan driving past you on the street that is completely stock from the factory and the one that had an incredible amount of work done and new parts added under the hood that are not evident just by looking at the vehicle. Perhaps your eyes are sharp enough to be able to tell the difference between a luxury pair of shoes or bag and one that is a knockoff, made to look like the original, but made of far lesser materials and perhaps more likely to fall apart with use.

You probably don’t have an awareness of every difference in every field, but your expertise could be useful. If you know cars, perhaps you help a friend buying a car to buy something that is actually worthwhile and not a waste of time or a likely money-pit. Helping others with your knowledge and experience to make sure they are getting the most for their money or getting the most value out of something they already have is a real blessing, because it’s not evident to everyone what something’s value is or how to even determine that.

This morning, we are focused on the concept of the true value of true treasure. So many things in this world sparkle and glimmer and pull our eyes away from things that are truly worthwhile. These shiny things often turn out to be no better than fool’s gold. But as Jesus talked about doing everything possible to acquire a real treasure, so the Apostle Paul, in our Second Reading, encourages Timothy to help others to seek after real wealth, which he says is truly life.

Paul’s closing words in this letter to Pastor Timothy serve as a kind of summary of the work he is supposed to be doing: Instruct those who are rich in this present age not to be arrogant or to put their hope in the uncertainty of riches, but rather in God, who richly supplies us with all things for our enjoyment. There’s a couple of things that we can learn from this single verse which will be a blessing for us moving forward.

Let’s begin with Paul’s second point, God… richly supplies us with all things for our enjoyment. There is no mandate from God for asceticism, for getting rid of earthly blessings or needing to feel guilty for material things. In fact, Paul is clear, that if God has given you these things, he wants them to be enjoyed. That’s not to say that everyone will get the same number of things in this life, or that we should expect to have every wish fulfilled, but what God has given he’s given because he loves us and wants them to be for our good.

However, Paul does warn about enjoying these blessings to a fault. He said: Instruct those who are rich in this present age not to be arrogant or to put their hope in the uncertainty of riches, but rather in God. What is the danger with the enjoyable things of this life? They can take our hearts and eyes off true treasure, true wealth, and lasting comfort. Sure, a bank account with a lot of numbers in the balance may make you feel secure, but what happens if some economic disaster befalls the world and inflation destroys the value of that money? What happens if some bad actor gets access to your accounts and can siphon it all away so that you have nothing left and no way to get it back? What happens if you make a bad investment and the whole bundle of things you had saved disappears?

Has God disappeared? Do these situations mean that he is no longer willing or able to fulfill his promise of daily bread? Hardly! But if we recognize God as the source of those original blessings, and that our comfort and assurance come from him in whole not simply from the gifts that he gives, then those problems, while difficult to deal with, will not be impossible. We will know that the God who gave those blessings can certainly return them, give different ones, or see us through our earthly lives in a different if less comfortable way. If when we look at a bank statement or other expression of material blessings and see God as the source behind what is there, then if it disappears, we will find it easier to join Job in saying “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked I will return. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. May the name of the Lord be blessed” (Job 1:21).

So, when we have material blessings, Paul says, don’t let those produce arrogance in your heart. Instead, see them as an expression of God’s graciousness to you. He loves you and has provided those things for your temporary enjoyment and use. However, if he hasn’t given you much in that way, that is not an expression of what he thinks about you—that is, if you are barely making ends meet it’s not that God doesn’t care about you or love you. It’s simply that he chosen to bless you in other ways, because he always knows what is best for you and for me. What Goes knows is best for may not be exactly what we have in mind.

So, earthly treasures and blessings are certainly not sinful, but they should not dominate our hearts and minds. Instead, Paul says, that we should put our hope in God. What does a trust in God for now and eternity produce in our lives here? Paul goes on: Instruct them to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and willing to share. In this way they are storing up for themselves the treasure of a good foundation for the future, so that they may take hold of that which is truly life.

Rather than focusing on earthly things that have a tangible benefit now, Paul leads us to consider the more important things of generosity and a life filled with good works. Why? Because those good works are only possible with faith in Jesus as Savior. If you are doing things that God considers to be good, they are done in thanksgiving to God, not just for earthly blessings, but for the far more important eternal blessings, for the true treasure that he gives.

And that’s what Jesus was getting at with the parable of the treasure in the field. Even in earthly matters, if you have enough money to buy one piece of property, but you knew that once you bought that piece of property, you would be able to dig up a treasure worth 1000x more than what you paid for the land, wouldn’t you do it?

How much more than when we consider the temporary nature of this life and the eternal blessings that are coming in heaven! Shouldn’t Jesus and his forgiveness be our focus rather than the things of this world that will pass away? Shouldn’t the eternal be more important to us than the temporary? And yet, how difficult it is for us to keep that kind of perspective. We can’t see heaven—we can’t even see God—and so the things that we can see and hear and feel tend to dominate our thoughts and actions. We seek after treasure that passes away rather than true treasure.

This is why seeking the treasure of God’s Word and his promises in that Word are so very important. Without this revealed knowledge of God, we can’t see what is coming, we don’t know what he has done. But when we prioritize his Word above the other things in this life, things start to fall into place in a godly way in our lives. We are reminded of Jesus’ complete forgiveness that has been given to us without charge. And that, then, directs our lives to thankfulness to God and rejoicing in what is coming—while at the same time enjoying what is in front of us.

Jesus’ life and death in our place mean we have forgiveness for every sin, even those times when the earthly has been more important to us than the eternal. God forgives your sins and my sins of neglect of his Word, of materialism and greed, of dissatisfaction and malcontent. These and all other sins are washed away in the blood of Jesus. This assurance of forgiveness is the true, lasting treasure that we yearn for and seek after; this is the true treasure that God freely gives.

So, as we consider the treasure that we have been given in the gospel message, let us do what Paul encouraged Timothy: guard what has been entrusted to you. Don’t let the things of this world be more important than eternal life—and let us use the blessings of this world to share this good news with others. So many don’t know what God has done for them; let’s prioritize not only valuing that for ourselves but sharing it with the world! Amen.

"I Will Be Blameless...?" (Sermon on Psalm 19:9-14) } July 23, 2023

Sermon Text: Psalm 19:9-14
Date: July 23, 2023
Event: The Eighth Sunday after Pentecost, Year A [Proper 11]

Psalm 19:9–14 (EHV)
The fear of the Lord is pure.
It stands forever.
The just decrees of the Lord are truth.
They are altogether righteous.
10They are more desirable than gold,
even better than much pure gold.
They are sweeter than honey,
even honey dripping from the honeycomb.
11Yes, by them your servant is warned.
In keeping them there is great reward.
12Who can recognize his own errors?
Declare me innocent of hidden sins.
13Restrain your servant also from deliberate sins.
Do not let them rule over me.
Then I will be blameless.
Then I will be innocent of great rebellion.
14May the speech from my mouth
and the thoughts in my heart be pleasing to you,
O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.

I Will Be Blameless…?

Trying to escape guilt is a life-long endeavor for many people. Perhaps they feel bad about the things that they did years ago. Perhaps they feel bad about the good things they left undone. Regardless, feeling that you have messed up and can’t do anything about it is not pleasant. And we can work and work and work to try to find relief from that guilty feeling without any success.

If we use Jesus’ parable about the wheat and the weeds as a guide for our thinking, perhaps we struggle with the feeling of wondering, “Am I the wheat or am I a weed? Am I destined for the harvest or am I destined for the fire?” As we zero in on God’s words through David’s psalm here this morning, I pray that we will find peace in God’s work for us and his guidance for our lives.

If you were to read through the book of Psalms in order, you would find that Psalm 19 stands out from those around it. Before and after, we have many psalms by David that plead to God for help and deliverance. But Psalm 19 is different. Psalm 19 in whole is a psalm of praise to God. This arrangement is a good reminder for our prayer lives—God is certainly there to listen to and answer our prayers, hear our cries for help and grant that help that he knows is best. But we also do well to remember to thank God for the blessings he gives—even in (or perhaps especially in) times of other great difficulties.

But we don’t always handle difficulties so well, do we? I mean, let’s be honest, we don’t always handle good times so well either. Look at your life. You don’t have to go back far. How was this week? How was yesterday? How was this morning before church? If we’re honest, probably not great, right? Whether it was familiar sins that have plagued you for many years or something totally new and novel that you came up with freshly, we can all identify where we’ve been unkind and uncharitable to others, where we’ve been selfish or greedy, where lust has taken control, or where our thoughts and desires went down paths that were not appropriate. Whether these things actively hurt someone else or were just in our heads or our hearts, they were sins against God—the God who demands perfection.

And that realization can make David’s joy at the beginning of our reading feel like barbs tearing into our hearts and flesh: The fear of the Lord is pure. It stands forever. The just decrees of the Lord are truth. They are altogether righteous. They are more desirable than gold, even better than much pure gold. They are sweeter than honey, even honey dripping from the honeycomb. Yes, by them your servant is warned. In keeping them there is great reward. Ok, yes, I get it—fearing or respecting God is good. God’s laws are right and desirable to keep. They are honey-sweet to those who love them. There is great reward in keeping them.

That’s great, except that’s not me. That’s not you. Part of us agrees with David’s words here, but another part of us hates these things. Our sinful natures scream at God and accuse him of wrongdoing when he set his standards. That sinful nature hates God and defies him and scorns any praise there is for him—especially his law.

So, that’s where we are. We are fighting against God. Our sinful nature is furious with our Creator and wants to just rage at him until our last breath. And that rage—that sin—brings consequences, brings punishment, brings hell. Jesus said it in the Gospel—the weeds are thrown into the fire. Sin makes you and me weeds. It makes us worthless. We are to be cast out at the time of the harvest, never to be brought into God’s barn.

But, as we walk through these verses from Psalm 19, we do well to pay attention to the subject of many of the verbs for us to understand some things about David’s song. Consider just vv. 12-13: Declare me innocent of hidden sins. Restrain your servant also from deliberate sins. Do not let them rule over me. This is not the human being resolutely setting off to do right, to accomplish his forgiveness, or to resist temptation. No, this is God declaring innocence, this is God restraining deliberate sin, and pleading to God to not allow sin to rule over us.

Why? Because all of this is beyond our ability to do. I can’t make myself forgiven. I can’t fully restrain sin in my life. I can’t decide to be “good” and just have it happen. I know that you; you know that. That is our lived experience day in and day out, today. Sin has been here, it is here, and it will be here.

So then, how can David boldly say: Then I will be blameless. Then I will be innocent of great rebellion? How will he, a sinner, be blameless and innocent? After all, David was as guilty as guilty could be, just like us. But we cannot lose sight of the fact that this status of “blameless” and “innocent” is not something that we make happen; that change is God’s work, God’s declaration. That declaration of innocence is what we call justification. God looks at the adulterer and murderer David, he looks at you and all the things you’ve done wrong, he looks at me and all of my innumerable failings, and he says of us, “Not guilty,” which means no punishment for sin is placed on us at all.

But how? Is God senile and forgetful? Hardly. Has God decided he was too harsh and changed his plans? No, he is perfectly consistent. So, if God, who is consistent and does not change, has declared us innocent despite being worthless weeds, something had to happen to change everything. And that “something” is Jesus.

God declared that we deserved hell and surely, we did, but he was not willing to allow us to go with no hope. His love for us was so great that Jesus came to be our substitute. The life we should have lived, Jesus lived for us—perfect in thought, word, and action. The punishment that should have been on us for our sins—being abandoned by God in hell—was brought down on Jesus while he died on the cross. God has not chosen to just ignore our sins or say they are not a big deal or forget that they happened. He knows they happened, and he demands punishment for them, it’s just that he punished Jesus instead of you, me, or David. Jesus is the stable Rock on which we build; he is our Redeemer, the one who has bought us back from sin, death, and hell to be with him forever in heaven.

This, then, brings so much clarity to David’s words in this psalm because David is writing from the perspective of a believer, giving thanks to God for his mercy. When he speaks about loving God’s commands and being rewarded for keeping them, he is not advocating for an unbeliever to do good things to make God happy with him or her. Nor is this David campaigning for a works-righteousness mindset that seeks to earn God’s forgiveness by doing good things. Rather, this psalm speaks with the attitude of a believer who knows that he or she already has God’s mercy because that is what he has promised and done. The one speaking these words trusts their Savior—whether it was the Savior who was yet to come from David’s perspective or the one who has already accomplished his work from our perspective.

You are sinful, yet blameless. You are guilty, yet innocent. These contradictory truths find resolution in your Savior Jesus who lived and died to save you, who rose from the dead to prove his conquest and decimation of sin. And as a result of that, your faith, your new self, wants to keep God’s commands to thank him, knowing the gift he has freely given! Only after God has worked faith in your heart to trust your Savior Jesus and all that he did to save you can God’s decrees be known as truth and righteous. Only then can they be seen as more desirable than gold and sweeter than honey.

That is not to say that sin will be absent in your life or mine. It won’t be. We will wish it was gone rather than loving it. We will hate the parts of us that make us look like weeds in God’s field—but we will rejoice to know that he has made us wheat. We are blameless—not because of what we have done, but because of what Jesus has done for us. Thanks be to God! Amen.

"Where Do We Find the Lord?" (Sermon on Isaiah 55:6-11) | July 16, 2023

Sermon Text: Isaiah 55:6-11
Date: July 16, 2023
Event: The Seventh Sunday after Pentecost, Year A [Proper 10]

Isaiah 55:6-11 (EHV)

Seek the Lord while he may be found!
Call on him while he is near!
7Let the wicked man abandon his way.
Let an evil man abandon his thoughts.
Let him turn to the Lord,
and he will show him mercy.
Let him turn to our God,
because he will abundantly pardon.
8Certainly my plans are not your plans,
and your ways are not my ways, declares the Lord.
9Just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so my ways are higher than your ways,
and my plans are higher than your plans.
10Just as the rain and the snow come down from the sky
and do not return there
unless they first water the earth, make it give birth, and cause it to sprout,
so that it gives seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
11in the same way my word that goes out from my mouth
will not return to me empty.
Rather, it will accomplish whatever I please,
and it will succeed in the purpose for which I sent it.

Where Do We Find the Lord?

Have you ever had that moment where you need to find something, and you remember seeing it… somewhere? Perhaps you saw it sitting somewhere and even thought, “Well, that’s a weird place for that thing to be. I would never find that there; I should move that to a more logical place,” but then you didn’t? And then, the next time you were looking for that item, you could remember that you saw it in a place that didn’t make any sense, but you can’t remember where that place was?

Maybe you’ve had that experience or maybe it’s just me. Regardless, I can assure you that it’s not a great feeling. Trying to hunt something down that you know is around but is in a place you’re unlikely to come up with is frustrating, even if it’s basically in plain sight. Why were my keys on the bookshelf anyway??

If you’re looking for something, you want to know where to find it. That may be why you always put your car keys in the same place at home each time you return. Maybe that’s why you invested in a little tracking device to put in your wallet or on something else valuable and important so that if you can’t find it, you can hunt it down relatively quickly. Maybe that’s why you store those important documents like birth certificates or Social Security cards in that fire-resistant safe; you know where they are, and they are protected.

But, as important as your keys or wallet or documents may be, there are things that are more important than those. Chief among them is your God. Your relationship with God—or maybe more importantly, his attitude toward you—is what is going to determine not just a day or week or year, but eternity. Will you be in hell as just punishment for your disobedience toward him or will you be in heaven with him in unending joy and peace? And how do you know?

This is comfort and knowledge that we cannot have on our own. We can’t look around us and determine how God thinks about us. We can’t do some deep soul-searching and decide what our status with God is. We can make things up, we can tell ourselves stories, but we will always know that that is all those are—creations of our own minds. So, if we want certainty, we need to go to the source. If we want to know God’s heart, he has to reveal that to us. How do we do that? Where do we go? Where do we find the Lord?

Through the prophet Isaiah, God calls on people to act: Seek the Lord while he may be found! Call on him while he is near! Isaiah’s ministry took place at a very fraught time in Israel’s history. After King Solomon, David’s son, died, the nation split into two pieces, roughly 10 tribes in the Northern Kingdom and two tribes in the Southern Kingdom. Isaiah was sent as a prophet to the Southern Kingdom.

In both kingdoms, the leaders’ and people’s faithfulness to the true God was very poor. They often worshiped false gods in the hope of blessings that the true God was not giving or simply because the false gods’ worship was more “fun” and less strict than the law God gave his people. It had gotten so bad that during Isaiah’s ministry, God used the nation of Assyria to come and exile the Northern Kingdom, whom we never hear from as a unified group again. Assyria harassed and conquered cities in the Southern Kingdom as well, but God saved them from the Assyrian army before they could conquer the capital of Jerusalem.

But all this temporal chastisement came because the people had wandered so far away from God. They weren’t listening to him, they weren’t looking for him, they didn’t care about him. God didn’t want them to be destroyed eternally so he uses earthly barbs to wake them up. But he couples that pain and discomfort with calls through his prophets to return to him. So, it is in this context that God sends Isaiah to plead with his people, “Seek the Lord while he may be found! Call on him while he is near! Let the wicked man abandon his way. Let an evil man abandon his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and he will show him mercy. Let him turn to our God, because he will abundantly pardon.”

Despite all the negative things that the people were enduring, there is so much gospel in these words. First of all, it is not too late—the people could still seek after God. He is near to them and ready to be found. For all that they had done wrong—for all their sins that brought down God’s eternal punishment—there was mercy and pardon available from God. He would forgive their sins. He loved them.

We may think it would have been wise for God to clearly set up shop on earth at this time. That is, that God should have just made himself visible to all the people. The messages he had to share should have come right from his mouth and he should have made it inescapable if he really wanted people to listen. That’s a whole lot of “shoulds” coming from people who don’t have God’s perspective and wisdom. And it seems that God anticipated this line of argument. God continues through Isaiah’s pen: Certainly my plans are not your plans, and your ways are not my ways, declares the Lord. Just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways, and my plans are higher than your plans.

God rarely speaks directly to people. As you read through the Bible, it might appear that God was talking to everyone all the time during the time the events of the Bible were happening. The truth is, only a very tiny number of people have ever had a direct conversation with God—even considering those who spoke with Jesus during his earthly ministry. Instead, God has chosen to communicate through his Word, verbally recounted and written down throughout the ages. In what was probably a parable, Jesus recounts a rich man in hell begging Abraham to send the poor man, Lazarus, who had died, back to speak to his brothers. While this wouldn’t be God speaking directly, it would be a miracle that would hopefully cause those on Earth to stand up and take notice. Our natural sense is probably agrees with the rich man’s logic, but the words that Jesus put into Abraham’s mouth are alarming to us as we nod along with the damned man’s reasoning, “They have Moses and the Prophets. Let them listen to them…. If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead” (Luke 16:29, 31).  

God has always worked through his Word primarily shared through human messengers rather than through direct contact. So, if we’re looking for the Lord, if we are seeking to return to him, we need to look for him where he has chosen to reveal himself. As such, we will not find him in nature, we will not find him through pure meditation and introspection, and if we’re waiting for God to have a nice chat with us over a cup of coffee, we will probably be waiting our whole lives without it ever happening.

Where do we find the Lord? You may not find him in nature alone, but in his Word, you will learn the details of how he created the universe we call home. You may not find him through an emptying-of-your-mind meditation, but meditation that centers on the promises and truths of God’s Word will be productive. And no, God may not sit down with you at the café for a warm drink, but if you bring a devotion book with you or perhaps enjoy a beverage while sitting in Bible Study with your fellow Christians, there is where God will be found.

Word of God is not just sounds voiced into the air or scratches of ink on a piece of paper. God attaches promises and power to his Word—as unassuming and unimpressive as it might be at first glance: Just as the rain and the snow come down from the sky and do not return there unless they first water the earth, make it give birth, and cause it to sprout, so that it gives seed to the sower and bread to the eater, in the same way my word that goes out from my mouth will not return to me empty. Rather, it will accomplish whatever I please, and it will succeed in the purpose for which I sent it.

The Holy Spirit works through his Word to create faith in our hearts and to sustain it. When the Israelites were separated from God’s Word and promises, they were distancing themselves from the God who loved them so dearly. When you and I seek to fill our spiritual needs with things that do not include God’s Word, we do the same thing.

But, when we dig into his Word here at church, in our homes, even in our cars or as we go for a walk, as we read or listen to that truth, to those promises, there the Spirit builds us up; there faith is maintained and grows; there alone do we find return and remaining with our Savior God. Because there in that Word we hear God’s clear condemnation of our sins and his complete forgiveness in Jesus’ death in our place. We cannot learn about Jesus’ salvation apart from God’s Word. That’s where he’s chosen to reveal these eternally-important truths; that’s where we find the Lord.

So, my sisters and brothers, “Seek the Lord while he may be found! Call on him while he is near!” Where do we find him? Where he has chosen to reveal himself, in that Word that will not return to him empty. Value it. Cherish it. Use it, now and until that day when our Lord calls us home to himself in heaven! Till the soil of your hearts so that this Word, planted like seed, may grow and flourish into faith that trusts God’s forgiveness for eternity. Amen.

"What Are You Doing?" (Sermon on Romans 7:15-25a) | July 9, 2023

Sermon Text: Romans 7:15-25a
Date: July 9, 2023
Event: The Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Year A [Proper 9]

Romans 7:15-25a (EHV)

For I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not keep doing what I want. Instead, I do what I hate. 16And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17But now it is no longer I who am doing it, but it is sin living in me. 18Indeed, I know that good does not live in me, that is, in my sinful flesh. The desire to do good is present with me, but I am not able to carry it out. 19So I fail to do the good I want to do. Instead, the evil I do not want to do, that is what I keep doing. 20Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who am doing it, but it is sin living in me.

21So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is present with me. 22I certainly delight in God’s law according to my inner self, 23but I see a different law at work in my members, waging war against the law of my mind and taking me captive to the law of sin, which is present in my members. 24What a miserable wretch I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? 25I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

What Are You Doing?

The parent walks in on the child trying to expand her artistic talent with a large box of crayons and her bedroom wall as the canvas. “What are you doing??” The wife walks into the bathroom where her husband was going to “look at that dripping faucet” to see pipes and wrenches scattered all over the floor. “Um… what are you doing?” You see a person you don’t know skulking around your front door, just kind of hanging out there, and you feel the need to address them, “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

“What are you doing?” is a question that might come up in a lot of different contexts, with a lot of different tones, but the basic premise is the same. Whether in a happy way, a scared way, or an exasperated way, the person asking the question wants some insight to explain the other person’s actions. Why did this seem like the best thing to do at this time? What is the end goal? Or perhaps, when is this going to end?

We’re familiar with asking other people this question. We are perhaps familiar with someone else asking us this question. But how often do we ask ourselves that question? If you’re like me and talk to yourself all day every day when you’re trying to get things done, perhaps you ask yourself this regularly. Perhaps your thoughts don’t really go there during the day. But there is value in asking yourself this question, but not in the vapid way that I often ask myself throughout the course of the day, but in a probing, introspective way. “What am I doing? Why am I doing it? Is this a good idea? Does this bring glory to God?”

This is the very thought pattern that the apostle Paul is wrestling with in our Second Reading for this morning. He looks deep inside himself and tries to examine and explain his motives for his actions. We do well to follow in his footsteps to comprehend the motives behind our thoughts, words, and actions; to understand what those things mean for us and what they mean for God.

Before our reading, in the earlier part of Chapter 7, Paul had been pondering the purpose of the law. He notes that God’s law makes clear what is right and wrong. While we have some sense of that naturally, especially through the conscience, we can be wrong. We can call things that are not wrong “sin” and, much more often, call things that are wrong “good”—because we want to do them and might feel the need to rationalize them.

God’s law, then, corrects where our natural instincts are wrong, where our consciences are misguided. If I think it’s ok to steal or kill or engage in sex outside of marriage, God’s law, even as summarized in the Ten Commandments, very quickly corrects my misguided notions about what is good and bad, right and wrong. But Paul notes a curious quirk in how my natural self interacts with God's law.. Often, God’s law can actually produce the desire to sin inside of me. The fault here lies not with the law but with the way I consider what is good and bad.

We can see an example of this right here this morning. If, as you sat here listening to the sermon, I asked you all to not turn around and continue to face the front of the church, to please, please not look behind your pew for the next 10 minutes, what is the reaction that is produced inside of you? There’s probably some part of you that starts itching to look back there. “Why doesn’t he want me to look at the back of the church? What is going on back there?” Maybe you don’t think that so clearly, but maybe suddenly your neck just a little bit stiff and you know what would bring relief to that? Just a quick twist of the head—oops, I saw the back of the sanctuary.

Now, to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with looking at the back of the church, other than perhaps making the ushers feel a bit uneasy with everyone looking at them. But if I was serious and you still did it, how would you feel? There’s likely to be a moment of guilt—especially if you did see something you shouldn’t have and wish you hadn’t seen. And this proves Paul’s point: For I do not understand what I am doing, because I do not keep doing what I want. Instead, I do what I hate. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. Guilt signifies that I agree with the law in forbidding that action. Acknowledging that I did something I shouldn’t have—or didn’t even want to do—shows the value of the law. I need something to tell me the difference between right and wrong because, on my own, I always veer toward the wrong.

However, the issue runs deeper than mere mistakes or poor decisions. There's something inherent in each of us that actively seeks the wrong. We have a lot of names for this part of us—the sinful nature, the sinful flesh, the old Adam, the fallen human nature—but they all name the same problem: each of us is born into this world with a propensity and even a desire to do wrong. We are naturally inclined against God; we are feuding, at war, with God from our very conception.

However, Paul has an interesting way of describing this nature within each of us as he examines himself: But now it is no longer I who am doing it, but it is sin living in me. Indeed, I know that good does not live in me, that is, in my sinful flesh. The desire to do good is present with me, but I am not able to carry it out. So I fail to do the good I want to do. Instead, the evil I do not want to do, that is what I keep doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who am doing it, but it is sin living in me. Notice how Paul attributes his doing of what he knows is wrong—what he doesn’t want to do—to sin living in him, to his sinful flesh, his sinful nature. Paul's description almost portrays sin as a parasite dwelling within him. He doesn’t identify with his sinful nature, he doesn’t embrace it, but he does acknowledge that it is real.

Paul does not do this to avoid accountability—after all, he calls himself a miserable wretch and says that needs to be saved from his body of death—but he’s doing it to show where his identity is. He doesn’t identify or see his true will embodied in his sinful nature. The things that are evil are not what he truly wants to do. Why?

This is the reality of every believer. You have a war going on inside of you right now. Your sinful nature yearns to fight with God. Everything God loves, your sinful nature hates; everything God hates, your sinful nature loves. But this is only part of you. When God worked faith in your heart to trust him as Savior, he created something new within you—a new man or a new self—that yearns for the direct opposite of what the sinful nature desires. The new self is the beginning of the restoration of the image of God, the perfect harmony with God mankind had when he first made us. That new self only wants to do what God wants, not to earn his favor, but to thank him. For what?

The new self knows the answer to Paul’s rhetorical question: Who will rescue me from this body of death? Jesus has done it. Jesus lived a life without this conflict, without sin. Never once did he catch himself in the middle of doing something wrong; never once did Jesus have to ask himself “What are you doing?” to course-correct his life. No, he did everything he should have all the time, perfectly obeying God’s law. But he didn’t do that to show us how or to shame us for our failures. He did it as part of the rescue we so desperately needed.

Jesus gives us his perfection. And he paid hell on the cross for every sin you and I have ever committed—whether it’s something we’ve done once in our lives or those sins that continually rear their ugly heads daily. Jesus rescued us from this body of death so that, like Paul, we don’t have to find our identity in sin. Sin doesn’t define us; Jesus does. We are not sinners doomed to death; we are the redeemed children of God, baptized into his name and rescued by his blood.

Paul concludes our reading, “I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” What a fitting and simple way to describe our goal for our lives moving forward. We don’t avoid sin because we don’t want to feel bad. We don’t avoid sin even because it is objectively wrong. We avoid sin to thank God for rescuing us from that sin, from death and hell. This is the easy yoke and light burden that Jesus described in our Gospel. It is easy and light because we are not earning anything by our work, nor do we have the responsibility to fix the things we have broken. No, it is light and easy because our work is simply thanking God for doing all the difficult—impossible for us—work. We thank him because he has already rescued us and given us everything that we need for eternal safety with him.

But on this side of eternity, you and I will be in the same boat as Paul. We will know and rejoice that God loves us and rescued us. And then we’ll look at our lives and ask ourselves, “What are you doing?” With Paul, we will see that we fail to do the good [we] want to do. Instead, the evil [we] do not want to do, that is what [we] keep doing. In those moments, we will come to the same conclusion that Paul did: Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who am doing it, but it is sin living in me.

We do well to not embrace or love sin, but this realization should not lead to despair. Rather, when we see that we keep doing what we don’t want to be doing, we come back again to Jesus with Paul’s realistic observation and plea on our hearts: What a miserable wretch I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Jesus’ answer is always, “My dear daughter, my dear son, I lived for you and died for you. I rose from the dead to prove that I have forgiven you. You are mine; your sins are gone.” And the result of our time of repentance in Jesus is the same as Paul’s was as well: I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord! Amen.

"Fight the Good Fight" (Sermon on 1 Timothy 6:11-16) | July 2, 2023

Sermon Text: 1 Timothy 6:11-16
Date: July 2, 2023
Event: The Fifth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 8, Year A

1 Timothy 6:11-16 (EHV)

But you, O man of God, flee from these things and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, perseverance, and gentleness. 12Fight the good fight of faith. Take hold of eternal life, to which you were called and about which you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses. 13I charge you in the presence of God, who gives life to all things, and of Christ Jesus, who made a good confession as a witness before Pontius Pilate, 14that you keep this command without spot and without fault, until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ, 15which he will make known at the proper time—the blessed and only ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords, 16who alone has immortality, who lives in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or is able to see. To him be honor and power forever! Amen.

Fight the Good Fight

One of the things that I’ve had to learn over and over again is that most problems only last for a season, but in the moment, they often seem like they will never end. For example, when you have a newborn and you’re getting barely any sleep, there are moments where it can feel like this your entire life now—you will never sleep again. Or more nonsensically and melodramatically, as your flight is delayed over and over again it can feel like you’re never going to get to leave that place and, in fact, perhaps you will have to live in the airport forever.

But what is true about those situations? Eventually, the flight will work out (or at least you’ll get out of that airport, even if it means driving away in a rental car). The kiddo will get bigger, and whether it takes weeks, or months, or even years, eventually the new parents will get something approaching normal sleep again. Bad things are rarely permanent.

As the apostle Paul wrote to young pastor Timothy, he was encouraging him toward faithfulness in the work God had put in front of him. With what attitude should he approach his ministry? This section addresses church leaders, but it also applies to all Christians. What does it mean to carry out the work God has given us in this world? What does it mean to function as forgiven sinners in a world still corrupted by sin? How does a Christian appropriately understand their role and task as “fight[ing] the good fight of faith”?

Our reading began in the middle of Paul’s line of thought. He said, “But you, O man of God, flee from these things.” The “these things” that Paul mentions here are false teaching, greed, and the love of money and material wealth in general which he had addressed earlier in Chapter 6. These things are not to be tolerated among pastors or other leaders in the church; they are not to be tolerated among Christians at large. But we can’t fully escape from them; we can’t be shielded from their influence or temptation. So, in part, the life of a Christian is literally running away from sin and its lies.

When we’re running away from sin, we’re not simply escaping, but we are running toward something. Paul’s encouragement to Timothy continues: flee from these things and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, perseverance, and gentleness. The life of a Christian involves not only avoiding sin but also pursuing good works that please God. This effort of avoiding sin and prioritizing God’s will is fight[ing] the good fight of faith.

But… how? We know that we will never be perfect, which is what God expects. We know that we will continue to fall short. No matter how well we run, sin will at least nip our heels. No matter how intensely we strive for those good, God-pleasing things, we will fall short.

Paul leaves some of this implied but encourages Timothy to what his motivation and strength in this fight will be based on: Take hold of eternal life, to which you were called and about which you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses. How can you take hold of eternal life? What is the good confession that Timothy and Christians for millennia have made? It has nothing to do with how good we are. We don’t earn this; we don’t deserve this. Fight[ing] the good fight of faith always presupposes saving faith—trust that Jesus lived and died to take away my sins. It includes the comfort and assurance that in Jesus’ resurrection, we have the certainty of our own resurrections and of eternal life with him.

That means we no longer love sin—though it is still present with us on this side of eternity. Our joy in God’s free and full forgiveness motivates us to seek those things that please him and thank him for all he has done for us.

But this pursuit of God’s will may put us at odds with those around us. Family may dislike our actions; friends may mock our priorities; perfect strangers may insult us for our beliefs and thoughts (or at least, their perceptions of them). Jesus had some stark words about this conflict in our Gospel for this morning: “Do not think that I came to bring peace to the earth. I did not come to bring peace, but a sword. For I came to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. A man’s enemies will be the members of his own household. Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me, and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. Whoever does not take up his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 10:34-39).

Now, it is important for us to note what Jesus and Paul are saying and perhaps more importantly what they aren’t saying. When Paul talks about the good fight of faith, this is purely a defensive fight, not an offensive one. We do not seek battles and conflict; we aim to protect the truth of God’s words and deeds from those who try to distort them. This is not a call for some sort of crusade that seeks to force people to confess Jesus as Savior. The good fight of faith is not really a battle against anyone else—it challenges the Christian internally to hold on to Jesus’ work for us.

When Jesus says that he brings conflict between the members of a family, maybe you can feel that. Maybe your faith divides you from some of the members of your immediate and extended family. But Jesus’ words are not meant to tell the Christian to seek conflict with those people or to cut them off. Jesus used even stronger language in the parallel account of this conversation in Luke’s Gospel when he said, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, even his own life, he cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26). But even then, Jesus simply means that he must matter more to us than anything or anyone else. If there is a conflict between Jesus and any other part of our life, we must prioritize him over that conflicting part of us. We don’t compromise what we believe and share for peace in our homes. We do not alter our preaching and teaching here to appeal more to those who may disagree with it. No, we hold fast to the truth and, in love with gentleness and respect, share that truth with those around us.

Divisions may come, people may hate us, and we may lose freedoms or suffer hardships because of God’s truth. So be it. Fight the good fight in you, not with them. Stand boldly and lovingly on the truth for those who oppose you, not to prove yourself right and them wrong, but to show your care for all people, even those who resist God. You want everyone in heaven, and so you fight the good fight to persist in the truth and be a loving witness to those who reject this gospel message but still need it desperately.

The Christian will bear crosses in this life. Fight[ing] the good fight does not evoke peaceful images of days at the beach or in a hammock among the redwoods. The Christian will not have peace all the time in this life. In fact, peace may be rare. But this time of cross-bearing will end, like the horrid day at the airport or the sleepless nights with a newborn. Individual crosses may ease or end, but the real relief will come when the season of cross-bearing is over. That will happen when Jesus calls us home to himself and brings us into heaven because he forgave us and prepared a place for us graciously.

We long for and yearn for that day. But until that happens—fight the good fight of faith. Hold on to the truth of God’s Word. Hold on to your Savior as more important than anyone or anything. The one who made his confession to the truth before Pilate, rather than turning away to save his own skin, will bring you to his eternal mansions. For he endured not just crosses, but the cross for you and me. By him, we are freely and fully forgiven. Thanks be to God! Amen.