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Sermon for Trinity 25

Isaiah 49:12-17  +  1 Thessalonians 4:13-18  +  Matthew 24:15-28

The Apostle Paul took us into the future in today’s Epistle, to what will happen on the Last Day when Jesus returns. He comforts us about our fellow Church members who have fallen asleep in faith. He assures us that they, together with all believers who are living on earth when Christ returns, will be raised to new life and will spend eternity with the Lord Christ. That’s a vision of the future that God always holds before our eyes, so that we’re thinking about it, focusing on it, and drawing comfort from it.

There’s another vision of the future that Jesus holds before our eyes in today’s Gospel, and it’s less pleasant. It’s about certain future events and circumstances leading up to His second coming, and He describes that time as a time of “great tribulation.” But as always, Christ gives us this information and these instructions, not to scare us or worry us, but to help us get through those difficult times, so that we can persevere in faith all the way up to His coming and be included in that joyful number of the elect, being caught up to the sky with Christ and His whole Church of believers on the Last Day. For now, we’re waiting in the mountains for Jesus’ return.

Our Gospel begins with a warning from Jesus about the “abomination of desolation.” An abomination is something disgusting, something that God hates and His true Church should find despicable, deplorable, detestable. This particular abomination is “of desolation.” It lays waste and causes destruction. It “stands in the holy place,” which, at the time of Jesus, was centered in the Temple in Jerusalem. The prophet Daniel had referenced the “abomination of desolation” in his Old Testament book, and Jesus says, Daniel’s prophecy will certainly be fulfilled.

He was referring, first, to the events leading up to Jerusalem’s destruction in AD 70. God would give Jerusalem time—about 40 years! — to repent of their rejection of Jesus the Messiah, and of their crime of crucifying the Son of God. But God knew the Jews would not repent, for the most part. And so He would bring His wrath down on the Jews, as He warned them throughout the Old Testament and again through the words of Jesus. God would rain down wrath on Jerusalem, not at the hands of His Christians, but at the hands of the pagan Romans, who came in to squash the Jewish Revolt that took place between 66 and 70 AD. The Jews themselves turned bloody violent against one another, and then against the Romans. The rebellion reached Jerusalem and even the Temple, until eventually the Romans came in and burned it all to the ground.

Jesus told His disciples, when you see the ‘abomination of desolation,’ standing in the holy place, then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Jesus warned His Christians about the impending doom of Jerusalem, giving them time to flee after they saw the Jewish Revolt reach the holy place. They were to flee quickly, without looking back. Jesus didn’t call on the Christians to stay and fight for Jerusalem. Even though it had so much history for God’s people, so much significance for the kingdom of heaven leading up to that time, it lost its significance when it finally and permanently rejected Jesus as the Christ. The Christians were not to stay and defend Jerusalem. No, Jesus said. Get out. Leave it. Abandon it. Don’t try to save it. And don’t worry about its history. Don’t worry about it as the place where you grew up, or as the place where your fathers grew up or as the place that God once chose to reveal Himself. As soon as you see the abomination of desolation take its place in the holy place, don’t wait. Get out. Flee. Or you will perish.

Jesus saved His disciples from physical death with that warning, and with Jerusalem’s destruction in A.D. 70, Jerusalem ceased to exist as the Biblical city of God. How strange, then, that modern Americans in the Evangelical camp seem to think the city of Jerusalem or the nation of Israel still has some special connection with God or with the Holy Christian Church. These false-teaching Millennialists or Dispensationalists will say things like, “If you stand against Israel, you stand against God.” Or, “God will bless those who bless Israel.” They’ll make a big deal about the Jewish religion or about Jerusalem, as if it had some Biblical purpose yet to fulfill or some special place in God’s kingdom. It doesn’t. It’s filled today with the same unbelief and the same rejection of Christ, and thus, the same idolatry, as it was in 70 AD. And it stands as a perpetual reminder of the coming judgment against the apostate Christian Church.

That’s the other part of today’s Gospel. Jesus wasn’t just talking about the city of Jerusalem. In the New Testament, the Israel of God is the Christian Church. The City of God, the New Jerusalem, is the Christian Church. The holy place, God’s Temple, is the Christian Church. And from within the Christian Church, according to Scripture, there will come another “abomination of desolation,” the Antichrist, who pretends to be a follower of Christ and a spokesman for Christ, but in reality teaches against Christ and leads many astray, to the point that the outward, Visible Christian Church becomes apostate.

The Roman pope is the most prominent representation of this abomination of desolation. He stands in the Church and pretends to rule over it. He sets up manmade traditions and exalts them above Scripture and above Christ. He robs Christ of His glory and steals it for himself and for others, like Mary and the saints. He robs Christ of His glory by teaching works-righteousness. He sets up a blasphemous sacrifice on the altar of God as he turns the Mass into a re-sacrificing of Christ and as a human work that’s designed to earn God’s favor and make payment for sins, which is why the Lutheran Reformers often referred to the papal Mass as an “abomination.”

When you see the ‘abomination of desolation,’ standing in the holy place, then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains. Get out! Flee! Don’t try to stay and save Jerusalem! Don’t try to stay and hide out in Jerusalem. And don’t hesitate. Leave.

When Luther and the other Reformers identified the pope and his false doctrines as the Antichrist, they did flee to the mountains; they left the fellowship of the Church of Rome. They left the safety and the comfort of that great and glorious Church. They separated themselves from it and simply preached the Word and administered the Sacraments here and there and wherever they could, without the pope’s consent or approval. Thank God they did! They heeded Christ’s warning.

So have we tried to do, up to this point, too. In our generation, in our time and place, we continue to flee from Rome. We also continue to flee from the Reformed doctrine of Calvin, from the Revivalist doctrine of American Baptists, from the liberal immorality and godlessness of the ELCA, and from the synodicalist sectarianism of the WELS with its official rejection of the chief article of the Christian faith, justification by faith alone in Christ alone. We continue to shun the glory and the pandering of the megachurch and of the “One Big Synod,” as a wise man once referred to it. Here we are in the mountains, as it were, in our tiny congregation, in our little diocese, mourning over the great city perhaps, mourning over the corruption of the Visible Church and over its imminent destruction, but glad and thankful to have escaped. We’re like spiritual fugitives, the Church’s refugees. All of this is part of the “great tribulation” Jesus spoke of.

But that’s just it. Jesus spoke of all this ahead of time, this corruption of the Visible Church, this spreading of idolatry and false doctrine within the walls of the New Testament Jerusalem, and this refugee-lifestyle that Christians in the last times will be forced to live as we flee from the glorious Church with its corruptions and abominations. This is not out of the ordinary. This should not be unexpected. So it must be in the days leading up to Christ’s return. Rejoice as you see Christ’s words being fulfilled all around you!

But also, remain vigilant. There will still be false teachers telling you to go looking for Christ in the desert, in the inner room, in this place or that. There will still be the threat of idolatry all around us and the evil desires of the sin that lives within us, and the temptation to look back with longing at the great city, the glorious Church, with all its history, with all its splendor—and its bigger numbers!, where, maybe, some of you even grew up and enjoyed all the nice things the glorious Church has to offer. And we can’t grow comfortable or overly secure here, either, in our congregation or in our diocese. It’s not as if we’re immune to false doctrine or idolatry. We, too, could allow ourselves to be led astray.

As always, only Christ can save us. Only Christ can help us and fortify us and defend us during this great tribulation, and He promises that He will. For the elect’s sake those days will be shortened. Or elsewhere, I will build My Church and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. He is our mighty fortress. He is the Church’s one foundation, and His Word is our sure and certain guide. His blood shed for our sins, and given to us in His Holy Supper for the forgiveness of our sins will continue to plead for us before the throne of God, keeping us safe from sin, death, and the devil, even in the midst of this great tribulation.

There’s no room for pride here, no room for hatred, no room for self-pity, no room for despair. There’s only room for humility on our part, and for daily repentance, and for devotion to God’s Word and Sacraments, and for thanksgiving, and for loving one another, here in the mountains, as we wait for Jesus to come again, as the lightning comes from the east and flashes to the west, as the Lord gathers all His elect to Himself in the sky on the Day of Resurrection. Let us live for that day. Amen.

Source: Sermons

Sermon for All Saints’ Day

Revelation 7:2-17  +  Matthew 5:1-12

Dear saints of God, made holy by Holy Baptism and by faith in the holy, precious blood of Christ, and called to lead holy lives here on earth: Today is All Saints’ Day. What does that mean? It means that we take a moment today to praise God for all the saints, for all the Christian believers who have ever lived and have now fallen asleep and entered the Church Triumphant. And we give special thanks today for those saints who were willing to suffer death on account of their faith in Christ—the ultimate witness or testimony to the truth of the Gospel. We call them Martyrs.

We have much in common with the saints who have gone before us. No matter what nationality they are, no matter what language they speak, no matter how much wealth they have, how old they are or what their background may be, all the saints have some common traits and characteristics, and they’re set forth for us today by Christ Himself in the Sermon on the Mount, in the Beatitudes, that series of nine short “Blessed” statements. These are the kind of saints Jesus seeks.

Blessed are the poor in spirit. “Blessed” means happy, fortunate, people who are privileged in the sight of God. These are the ones God seeks. These are the ones God smiles upon and the ones to whom God will give entrance into the kingdom of heaven: the poor in spirit. Not sinless people. Not “good people” who have earned a place for themselves in God’s kingdom. But the poor in spirit, those who have nothing to offer God and who are well aware of it. You will not hear from these saints things like, “Well, I’ve lived a pretty good life, so I think I’ll be OK on the Last Day.” No way! It’s a characteristic of the saints that they acknowledge their sins and do not try to earn their way into heaven. Instead, they flee for refuge to Christ and hope to be saved only by trusting in Him who was crucified for them and who paid for their sins with His holy, precious blood. To them and only to them does the kingdom of heaven belong, while all those who are “rich in spirit,” all those who think they have something good of their own to offer to God, are not blessed, but cursed.

Blessed are those who mourn. Everyone on this earth mourns. But not everyone is blessed. Jesus is talking about the mourning of His people, His disciples. And the Scriptures present two main reasons for the mourning of the saints.

First, the saints mourn over their own sins. David in the Psalms or St. Paul in Romans 7 give us some examples of how the saints see how grievously they have sinned against God, how they have not done the good they want to do, but the evil they do not want to do, this they keep on doing. And they don’t excuse it or justify it; instead they mourn over it and seek to be rid of it. They shall be comforted, Jesus says. Comforted here in this life with God’s word of forgiveness, in Baptism, in Holy Communion, in the absolution that releases sinners from the guilt of their sins and reconciles them with God. Comforted also in the next life, when their sinful flesh is finally sloughed off and they are finally free from the sins that so entangle us here in this world.

There’s another kind of mourning of the saints described in Scripture. It’s the mourning caused by the enemies of God’s people, by sin, death, and the devil. David says in Psalm 6, I am weary with my groaning; All night I make my bed swim; I drench my couch with my tears. My eye wastes away because of grief; It grows old because of all my enemies. Death is an enemy, as we face our own mortality or the mortality of our loved ones. The devil is a ferocious enemy as he attacks us both directly and indirectly, through all the evil that surrounds us in this world. That evil—the evil of injustice, temptation, violence, immorality, and godlessness—torments the souls of the righteous, even as the evil of ancient Sodom tormented Lot’s righteous soul. But here on earth they will be comforted, because here and now the Lord Christ still reigns over the world, holding evil in check and turning it to His good purposes, and then in eternity, all evil will be cast into hell, and the saints will be free from it forever; Christ will wipe away every tear from their eyes.

Blessed are the meek. This blessed meekness isn’t a personality trait. St. Peter didn’t have a meek personality, nor did Martin Luther as he pounded those 95 Theses onto the church door in Wittenberg 498 years ago yesterday. Again, this meekness—it’s a spiritual trait. It’s a voluntary gentleness, lowliness, humility. It’s the same word used for how Jesus entered Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, “lowly” and riding on a donkey. It’s the opposite of conceited, the opposite of overbearing, the opposite of selfish or self-seeking. The saints are intentionally lowly, intentionally humble, like Christ Jesus, from the heart looking out for the interests of others ahead of their own. The meek will inherit the earth, Jesus says. These are the kind of saints He seeks for His kingdom.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. The saints in Christ’s kingdom here on earth are not apathetic or indifferent to the Gospel. They hunger for it. And they know where righteousness comes from—not from within themselves, but from Christ, the Righteous One—His righteousness which the Holy Spirit applies through the Means of Grace. That means the saints on earth are characterized by eagerly seeking out the Means of Grace. They seek it first in Baptism, and they are filled. They seek it continually in the preaching of the Word of God, and they are filled. They seek it often in the Holy Supper, and they are filled with the righteousness of Christ here on this earth until they fall asleep in death. And when those saints pass over into the Church Triumphant as their bodies are laid in the ground, they shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore, for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters.

Blessed are the merciful. Mercy is an attribute of God. God is merciful. God is moved by man’s misery and wretchedness and neediness. He shows mercy to those who deserve to be punished for their sins. He showed mercy by sending His Son into our flesh and having Him put to death so that sinners could live. Now those who have been brought to faith in the merciful Christ are characterized by mercy, too. God expects it from the saints and will not tolerate it if those who have been shown mercy by Him refuse to show it to their neighbor.

Blessed are the pure in heart. The saints have pure hearts. How did they become pure? “Pure” is the same word in Greek as “clean.” What do we sing after the sermon, quoting Psalm 51? “Create in me a clean heart, O God.” It is God the Holy Spirit who purifies and cleanses the hearts of His saints. He does it through daily repentance on the part of the saints, as they recognize the evil of their heart, confess it, receive forgiveness for it, and then strive, with the Holy Spirit’s help, to get rid of the evil from their hearts. It’s a daily battle for the saints here on earth, but the struggle has an end, and then they will see God.

Blessed are the peacemakers. Again, this isn’t referring to political or secular pacifism. Not all those who lobby against war are blessed in the sight of God. But saints, in their daily lives, seek reconciliation wherever possible. Where feelings have been hurt or offense has been given, the saints seek to make it right. They apologize if they’ve sinned against their neighbor and seek to repair what they broke. Or, if they’ve been sinned against, the saints are ready and willing to be reconciled with the guilty party, to forgive those who trespass against them, just as they have been forgiven by God for their trespasses. In this way they are acting like true sons of God, because God is the ultimate peacemaker, who gave His Son into death in order to make peace with His enemies.

Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake. And to this saintly trait Jesus adds a double beatitude, a double blessing: Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all kinds of evil against you falsely for My sake. Now, being persecuted isn’t a trait. It’s something that is done to you by someone else. What is the trait that God seeks here? It’s the willingness to suffer persecution for Christ’s sake. It’s the steadfast confession of Christ that attracts persecution like a powerful magnet, because the world hates Christ with a passion, and the more Christ is found in the confession of your lips and of your life, the more the world will identify you with Christ and will turn its hatred toward you. It’s part of what we call the blessed cross, the suffering a Christian willingly and patiently endures for the sake of the Gospel. And, contrary to all human reason and logic, the cross is a cause for great rejoicing, because when you bear a cross for the sake of Christ, you are simply following Jesus along the path, and you know where that path ends—not in shame and death, but in glory and resurrection from the dead.

In the eyes of the world, none of these traits is cause for happiness. In the eyes of the world, the saints are the most wretched, pitiful people who have ever lived. But in the eyes of God, the saints are precious. The saints are blessed. All believers in Christ are blessed.

Now maybe, in the picture Jesus has painted for us today of the saints, of the blessed, you have a hard time recognizing some of your Christian loved ones who have died. Maybe you have a hard time recognizing yourself in some of the beatitudes. Here’s something Luther once wrote: This life is not godliness, but growth in godliness; not health, but healing; not being, but becoming; not rest, but exercise. We are not now what we shall be, but we are on the way; the process is not yet finished, but it has begun; this is not the goal, but it is the road; at present all does not gleam and glitter, but everything is being purified. All the saints on earth are repentant believers in Christ, or else they are not saints. And all believers in Christ strive to grow in all the blessed traits that Jesus described, or else they are not believers in Christ. Jesus genuinely seeks these traits in His people, but He also is the one who sends His Spirit and who works through His Spirit, through His Means of Grace, to create these traits in you, even as He has given you new birth through the Word. Even today, through these words from the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus is molding you, His saints, into the kind of saints He seeks. What was lacking in the believers who have died has now been perfectly fulfilled in Paradise. What is still lacking in you, God will continue to fulfill as long as you live on this earth, until you join that blessed cloud of witnesses in the Church Triumphant. Amen.

Source: Sermons

Second Sermon for Reformation Sunday 2015

Revelation 14:6-7  +  Matthew 11:12-15

This morning in Las Cruces we focused on the Gospel for Reformation Sunday. This afternoon we turn to the Epistle from Revelation chapter 14. This Epistle for Reformation Sunday was chosen for a reason. It was chosen because the early Lutherans of the 16^th and 17^th centuries saw God’s Word being fulfilled before their eyes. They read the words of John’s prophecy about that angel flying in the midst of heaven, having the everlasting gospel to preach, and they saw a special fulfillment of those words in the preaching of Martin Luther. Why?

Luther was no angel, not in the literal sense. He was just a man who lived 500 years ago. But that man, like all pastors and priests of God’s Church, was called and ordained to the office of the Holy Ministry. And in the figurative, symbolic language of Revelation, pastors and teachers of the Church are referred to as “angels,” God’s chosen messengers. For example, Jesus instructed John to write seven letters to the seven “angels,” or pastors, of the seven churches. So this angel in Revelation 14 appears to be a symbol of a notable teacher in the Christian Church.

And the timing—the timing of this angel’s appearance is important. In the chapter before, Revelation 13, John had described the coming of the two beasts—the beast from the sea and the beast from the earth, a secular Antichrist and an ecclesiastical Antichrist (an Antichrist within the Christian Church). The secular Antichrist appears to be a reference to the Roman Empire that persecuted and killed Christians. Rome’s opposition to Christians was open and public.

The ecclesiastical Antichrist comes in secret. He pretends to be Christ, but his words come from the dragon, the devil. He sits as lord of the Christian Church on earth, and also has political power. He insists on being worshiped as God, and he puts his own word above the Word of God. And he has his throne in Rome.

Now, what was going on at the time of Luther? The pope in Rome was selling indulgences, so that people could purchase the forgiveness of sins with money. He claimed to be the Vicar of Christ on earth—the lord and master of all Christians. He set up human traditions in the Church and taught Christians to earn God’s favor by following those traditions. He insisted that Christians pray to the saints and look to them for help. He taught that Jesus didn’t pay for all sins with His holy precious blood, but that sinners have to work off some of their own sins, both here on earth and in the purgatory that he invented. And he took the Mass, where God gives us the body and blood of His Son for the forgiveness of our sins, and turned it into a good work that we have to perform in order to earn the forgiveness of sins.

Martin Luther helped to unmask the Roman Antichrist. He saw how the Roman Pope fits the Biblical description of the Antichrist, how the pope had tried to silence the voice of the Gospel that proclaims faith alone in Christ as the only way for sinners to be justified before God. So Luther studied the Scriptures. He found the Gospel there, the Gospel that proclaims salvation by grace alone, through faith alone, for the sake of Christ alone. And he spoke up and he spoke out loudly, like an angel flying in the midst of heaven, publicly and boldly proclaiming the everlasting Gospel.

And Luther’s simple Gospel proclamation, his restoration of the truth of Holy Scripture, has now gone out to every nation, tribe, tongue, and people, so that men are without excuse. The Antichrist, the Roman Pope, held people captive for long enough with his false doctrine. Now the truth of Christ and His Gospel is plain to all, and yet so many still cling to Antichrist and his lies.

Fear God and give glory to Him, Luther proclaimed, for the hour of His judgment has come. Don’t fear the pope. Don’t fear councils and Cardinals. Fear God! And don’t give glory to man or to the Virgin Mary or to sleeping saints. Give glory to God, whose grace alone moved Him to send His Son into the world, to suffer and die and to pay the penalty for all our sins. Give glory to God, who raised His Son back to life for our justification. Give glory to God, who sends His Holy Spirit to turn us from unbelief to faith, and who justifies us by faith alone in Christ.

Whether or not God had Luther specifically in mind with that “angel flying in the midst of heaven,” the everlasting Gospel has reached your ears, and Martin Luther was certainly one instrument, one angel of God among many who caused that to happen. Rejoice in the Gospel today and give thanks to God that He has opened your eyes to see through the lies of the Roman Antichrist, so that you have a firm foundation for your faith, now and on the Day of Judgment: Scripture alone, which points to Christ Jesus alone, who, by His death, has made satisfaction for all your sins, and who, by His Spirit, has brought you out of the darkness of unbelief into the glorious light of Christ. Amen.

Source: Sermons

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Sermon for Reformation Sunday 2015

Revelation 14:6-7  +  Matthew 11:12-15

On this Festival of the Reformation, Matthew’s Gospel turns our thoughts to violence, of all things. In the words of Jesus, from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force. What kind of violence is He referring to?

There has always been a bad kind of violence in the world, since the days of Cain and Abel when Cain, out of jealousy and hatred, violently laid hands on his brother and killed him. That was the first act of violence this world saw. From there the violence spread, until the days of Noah, when we read that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every intent of the thoughts of his heart was only evil continually, when the earth was corrupt before God, and the earth was filled with violence.

Things didn’t improve after the Flood. The rest of the Old Testament tells the story of one war after another, one kingdom invading another, the powerful taking advantage of the weak, the wicked bringing harm against the innocent.

The violence ramped up at the time of John the Baptist as the devil and the world raged against the light of Christ. It turned toward John, until he was thrown into prison and finally beheaded. It turned toward Jesus, until He was crucified and laid in the tomb. It turned toward His apostles and His Christians under the Roman Empire. It turned toward Christian Europe at the hands of Muslim invaders. It turned toward Martin Luther and the Catholics—also known as Lutherans—who followed him out of the Antichristian Church of Rome, with its Antichrist Pope.

And as you well know, all this violence still goes on to this day and will continue until the end of the world. It’s the terrible result of sin. It comes from a hatred of the one true God and a loathing of one’s fellow man, especially when that fellow man is a Christian, a believer in the one God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Violence is a symptom of the sin that dwells in all people—in all of us by birth.

But something changed at the time of Jesus, at the time when John the Baptist began his ministry, his ministry of pointing people to Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, preaching a baptism of repentance for the remission of sins. From that time on, to this very day, a different kind of violence began to emerge—Jesus likes to do that, take an earthly concept, turn it around and give it a heavenly meaning—a good kind of violence, not physical, but spiritual, not the violence of harming another person, but the forceful entry into the kingdom of heaven, the kingdom of Christ. This violence overcomes all obstacles—the devil, the world, our sinful flesh. It even overcomes the just judgment of God’s Law. It fights against it and defeats it, by God’s own gracious plan and purpose. It is the “violence” of faith. And it was that violent faith that characterized the beginning of the Christian Church, that fueled the Reformation of the Church at the time of Martin Luther, and that still lays hold of the kingdom of heaven today.

Since the days of John the Baptist, the power of the Gospel has been saving sinners and rescuing them out of Satan’s kingdom and away from the condemnation of God’s Law. Sinners who have earned a place for themselves in the devil’s kingdom have dared to believe the unbelievable—that God loves sinners and sent His Son into the world, not to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved. People all over Judea and Galilee, all over Europe, Asia, Africa, Australia, and the Americas, have found in Christ a good and merciful Savior, so that they have dared to stand against the Pharisees and teachers of the Law, against kings and emperors and popes, because they have found in Christ Jesus—in His obedience, in His wounds, in His death—all that God requires for sinners to be justified in His sight. These “violent” Christians have stood, in some cases, against family and friends, against their society and culture, even against their own doubts and fears and guilt, in order to know Christ, to follow Christ, to die with Christ, and then to rise again victorious. They have been streaming into the kingdom of heaven as they follow behind Jesus, taking hold of eternal life in Christ and refusing to let go, clinging only to the Word of God that promises forgiveness of sins, life and salvation to all who believe in Christ crucified. This is the violence of faith.

How else could prostitutes and thieving tax collectors dare to be baptized and enter the kingdom of heaven at the preaching of John the Baptist? Only with the violence of faith. How else could Saul, the persecutor and murderer of Christians, dare to imagine that God would forgive him? Only with the violence of faith. How else could a lowly priest like Martin Luther dare to contradict the pope and all his high ranking cardinals and bishops and theologians in the Roman Church? Only with the violence of faith. How else could you, who are poor, miserable sinners, dare to come here today, in the presence of God, expecting Him to forgive you your sins, hoping for the care and compassion of a loving Father in heaven? Only with the violence and determination of faith—the Lutheran faith, which is nothing else than the Christian or catholic faith, faith that takes God at His Word, that He wishes to be merciful to you, not because of anything you’ve done, but only for the sake of Christ.

So, here we are again this year, by the grace of God, standing on the truth of the Gospel revealed in God’s Word. It isn’t easy, because to stand for the kingdom of Christ is to stand against the kingdom of Satan, who is a ruthless enemy. To stand for Christ is to stand against Islam, against Judaism, against the doctrine of evolution and the religion of tolerance, against all the godlessness of our society, and against the pope and all false teachers who use the name of Christ to deceive people and to corrupt the truth of the Gospel. We stand against all these things, wielding not a single weapon, except for the sword of the Spirit, the living and enduring Word of God.

And with this kind of violence, this mighty forcefulness that presses through all obstacles into the kingdom of God, we cannot fail, because everything, including this Gospel and this faith, is God’s doing, God’s work, God’s gift to you. Christ has promised to build His Church, and that the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. He has promised to keep sending His Holy Spirit through the Means of Grace, to call people to repentance and to build us up in love. This is the “good fight of the faith,” the violence of faith, and the victory that overcomes the world. Let us not be ashamed of the Gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to all who believe. Amen.

Source: Sermons

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Sermon for Trinity 22

Deuteronomy 7:9-11  +  Philippians 1:3-11  +  Matthew 18:23-35

As you probably remember, four months ago there was a terrible massacre at a church in South Carolina. That deranged young man, Dylann Roof, shot and killed nine people in cold blood. Immediately afterwards, after Roof was apprehended and put in jail, the members of that church came forward, one by one, including many of the family members of those who were shot, and they sent a message to Mr. Roof: “I forgive you.”

Many people, many Christians applauded those family members for that. It certainly took a lot of courage on their part. They should be commended for their lack of bitterness and hatred toward the shooter who killed their family members. But were they right to forgive him? Were they following Jesus’ instructions in today’s parable? Is that what Jesus is calling on His people to do—to pronounce forgiveness on our impenitent enemies?

In all the Scriptures, you will not find a single instruction to do that, nor a single example of any believer ever doing it. But didn’t Jesus forgive those who crucified Him? No, He prayed for them. “Father, forgive them!” Didn’t the first martyr, Stephen, forgive those who were stoning him to death? No, he prayed for them, “Father, forgive them!” It’s not the same thing.

God surely has guidance in His Word for how we are to treat or think about our enemies who hate us and sin against us. In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus said, “Love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you.” Love, bless, do good, pray for those who intentionally do you wrong and are happy about it. But “to forgive someone” is different. Forgiveness, in the Biblical sense, doesn’t work that way. When Jesus specifically addresses the circumstances of when and whom you are to forgive, He says (Luke 17), If your brother sins against you, rebuke him; and if he repents, forgive him. And if he sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, ‘I repent,’ you shall forgive him.

I wanted to begin with that, because there’s plenty of instruction for us in this parable about forgiving our debtors. You can see how serious God is about our Christian duty to forgive our brother who sins against us, as we see the king’s anger toward the servant who refused to forgive his fellow servant. But it won’t help us at all if we have a twisted understanding of forgiveness. Jesus’ parable is all within the context of the Church. It’s directed toward Christians and how Christians are to treat, not all people in the world, but fellow Christians, our “brothers,” our “fellow servants” in God’s kingdom.

Now let’s take a look at the parable. The parable is told in response to Peter’s question: “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? Up to seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven.” So the parable’s main point, right from the beginning, is that there is no limit to how often we are to forgive our fellow Christians. As Jesus explains further in Luke 17, If your brother sins against you seven times in a day, and seven times in a day returns to you, saying, ‘I repent,’ you shall forgive him.

How can we possibly do that? Why should we do that? Consider how you have been treated by the King.

The King called in His servant to call the enormous debt owed by His servant: 10,000 talents, 10,000 years worth of wages. It’s an astronomical figure. The servant had no way of repaying the debt. So the King ordered that everything the man had should be sold and the man himself be sold into slavery, together with his family. That’s what the man rightfully deserved.

So also God comes in the preaching of the Law and says to each one, here is what you owe Me: perfect, devoted love for Me and for My Word, and perfect, sacrificial love for your neighbor. But you have not done it. You have managed to cram 10,000 years worth of sins into your short life. So you must suffer for all eternity, in payment of your enormous debt. That is what justice requires.

The servant stood convicted before the King. He acknowledged his debt and the King’s righteousness in his condemnation, but yet he begged for leniency, for time to repay.

So the sinner who takes God’s Law seriously, who takes it to heart, who is honest with himself and with God, stands convicted before God’s judgment. He begs for mercy. God, be merciful to me, a sinner. But he doesn’t foolishly ask for more time to pay. He doesn’t bargain with the Judge and make promises of repayment—promises of future obedience. God, be merciful to me, even though I don’t deserve it. That’s the penitent confession.

And see how merciful the King was with His servant! He forgave His servant his huge debt, right there, on the spot.

So, too, the Gospel proclaims forgiveness. Not, forgiveness if you pay. Not, forgiveness if you work off your debt. Not, forgiveness for a portion of your debt. No. Full and free forgiveness, based on nothing but God’s pity and mercy in Christ.

Now, this parable isn’t intended to give a full and complete picture of God’s forgiveness. It mentions neither the price of forgiveness, which is the obedience, suffering and death of Christ Jesus, nor the means of forgiveness, which is the ministry of Word and Sacraments and faith that lays hold of Christ in the Word and the sacrifice He made for sin. The parable isn’t intended to teach every aspect about how God forgives sinners. Its focus is on the enormous amount of debt that God has forgiven you for the sake of Christ and the corresponding fruit that God seeks from those who have been forgiven such a great debt by Him.

The fruit God seeks: that you should go forth, forgiven, set free, justified from your many sins, and from now on be generous with your fellow Christian whenever he sins against you, because no matter how many times he may sin against you, it will never come close to how many times you have sinned against God and been forgiven by Him.

But what often happens? See how the first servant treated his fellow servant in the parable. He went out and found his fellow servant who owed him a hundred denarii, a few months wages, and took him by the throat and demanded payment. And his fellow servant begged for mercy and for time to repay, just as the first servant had done with the King. But now the first servant, unlike the King, refused to have mercy on his fellow servant, refused to forgive him his debt, and instead had him thrown into debtors’ prison.

Anyone can see how wrong that was. And the rest of their fellow servants did see it and reported it to the King, who was furious with that servant. You wicked servant!, He said. I forgave you all that debt because you begged me. Should you not also have had compassion on your fellow servant, just as I had pity on you?’ And his master was angry, and delivered him to the torturers until he should pay all that was due to him.

Jesus applies this to His Christians: So My heavenly Father also will do to you if each of you, from his heart, does not forgive his brother his trespasses.

It’s not as if you were earning God’s forgiveness by forgiving your fellow Christian. Just as the King first forgave the huge debt of the first servant, so God has first forgiven you your huge debt in the waters of Holy Baptism. And He continues to forgive you your sins in the Absolution and in Holy Communion, not because of any past, present, or future works you have done or might yet do, but freely, for Christ’s sake.

But now Christ commands you to do this relatively small thing, to show mercy to your fellow Christian, to forgive your brother his trespasses against you. And, like the unforgiving servant, you will forfeit God’s forgiveness if you refuse to forgive your fellow servant who comes to you in repentance, because if you refuse to forgive, you show that you yourself have already fallen away from faith. You despise God and His forgiveness toward you.

So be very careful how you treat one another. You’re not free either to go around sinning against your brother in Christ or to go around holding a grudge or refusing to forgive your fellow Christian. If you’ve gotten angry with your fellow Christians, if you’ve harmed them in some way or spoken carelessly to them in a way that is unkind, take responsibility for it. Go and beg for mercy, like the servant did. When you have sinned against someone, offer a real apology.

Likewise, if your brother sins against you, rebuke him, but rebuke him humbly, with the goal, not of lashing out at him or giving him an earful or making yourself feel better, but with the goal of forgiving him. And when your rebuke works, or if your fellow servant comes to you on his own in repentance—your spouse, child, father, mother, sister, brother, fellow church member—you remember, God is the great Judge, not you. God has forgiven you more than you can imagine, more than you could ever repay. Be imitators of God, therefore, as dear children. Forgive your brother from the heart, no matter how often, no matter how great the offense. Even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do. Amen.

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Sermon for Trinity 21

Hosea 13:14  +  Ephesians 6:10-17  +  John 4:46-54

Driving back from Ruidoso on Friday, we saw a billboard along Hwy. 70. It had nothing on it but a single word in big bold letters: BELIEVE. Amy and I both commented on it, what a huge waste of money it was to put up that billboard. Believe what? Believe whom? Believe in whom? Our emotions-based, me-centered culture seems to think that there is something noble or useful in the act of “believing,” holding a sincere belief, whatever that belief might be. It’s supposedly sacred. It’s supposedly life-changing. Bah.

It matters what you believe. It matters whom you believe. It matters in whom you believe, in whom you trust and for what.

God sets before us in the Gospel an exercise in believing, an exercise in faith, and it’s vitally urgent that we learn this lesson, because, of all the pieces of the armor of God that St. Paul described in today’s Epistle, he says, above all, take the shield of faith with which you will be able to quench all the fiery darts of the wicked one. If faith is to serve as a shield, as a protection against the deadly darts of the devil, then it had better be more than a generic believing in something. See how Jesus forms our faith in today’s Gospel, how He molds it and strengthens it and gives it focus.

The nobleman from Capernaum came to Jesus in faith. He believed that Jesus could and would heal his dying son, if only Jesus would come close enough to where his son was. That much faith he had, and it’s a lot more faith than many other people had. It was good that he believed in Jesus that far. Already his faith had a solid object. He didn’t just believe in something, or in some god of his own making. He believed in Jesus for the healing of his son, if Jesus could get close enough to his son.

So why does Jesus rebuke his faith? “Unless you people see signs and wonders, you will never believe.” Didn’t he already believe? Yes, but not yet as he should and as he needed to. His faith was feeble and weak. And, what’s more, Jesus’ words weren’t only directed at the nobleman. “You people,” he says. His words were meant for all those who heard Him that day, and also for us who hear Him in this Gospel today. It’s a common fault among us sinful human beings, that we tend to tie our faith to miracles and to signs and to feelings and to experiences.

What was the problem with the nobleman’s faith? There were two problems, actually, two weaknesses. First, faith—the faith that serves as a reliable shield against the darts of the devil—cannot cling to signs or to sight or to anything on the inside of you. Faith must cling only and entirely to the Word of God. Not what you think God would do or should do, not what you want God to do, but what God says He will do, that you must believe, no matter what your eyes tell you, no matter what your reason tells you.

Jesus addressed that flaw in the nobleman’s faith very directly. The nobleman pleaded with Jesus, Sir, come down before my child dies! Jesus said to him, “Go your way; your son lives.” Jesus refused to do what the man specifically requested—to go down with him to his house, and yet at the same time He gave the man all that he ever wanted, the promise of healing for his son. He gave him nothing to see, nothing to experience or feel. Only a word, a spoken promise. Your son lives.

And against all logic and human reason, it says that the nobleman believed Jesus. He took Him at His Word, without having to see a single thing, without having to feel anything or experience anything.

This is how God deals with faith. He exercises it. He works it. He stretches it, sometimes so thin you would think it had to break. But God knows what He’s doing. Faith is His Spirit’s creation, after all. So He knows what it can take and what it can’t. He knows what it needs to grow. Because faith has to grow. It has to increase so that it clings only to God’s Word. Otherwise, it will fail as a shield against the devil’s darts, because the devil is crafty. His lies are convincing. And only the Word of God can defeat him.

The second problem with the nobleman’s faith was this: he believed in Jesus to heal his son on this occasion. He believed in Jesus for earthly healing. But that’s all. Faith needs to go beyond trusting in God to fix an earthly problem for you. Yes, your earthly problems matter to God. Yes, He is concerned about your body and your life on earth, and He has promised to provide for you here on earth, until your days on earth come to an end. But if Jesus is your Helper only for this life, or even primarily for this life, then, as St. Paul writes to the Corinthians, you are to be pitied above all men. If you think your biggest, most urgent, most pressing problem in this life is sickness or pain or poverty, then you are living under an illusion. If you think that Jesus’ greatest work for you would be to extend your life or your family member’s life on this earth for a few more years, then you’re missing the whole point of His coming.

Jesus didn’t come to give you a fairytale life on earth, or to make your life on earth happier or longer. He came because you’re a sinner, born under God’s wrath and doomed to die. He came to succeed at keeping God’s Law where you have failed. He came to bear your sin and suffer the consequences of your sin. He came to reconcile you with God, to give you peace and hope and life after death.

As God promised through the prophet Hosea, I will ransom them from the power of the grave; I will redeem them from death. O Death, I will be your plagues! O Grave, I will be your destruction! That! That is the Word of God to which faith must cling, God’s promise to forgive you your sins for the sake of Christ and to give you victory over death.

The nobleman finally got it. He believed Jesus’ word that his son would live, and so he went home, and his servants met him and told him that his son had recovered at the very time that Jesus said, “Your son lives.” Then it says, he himself believed, and his whole household. Believed what? He already believed Jesus’ word that his son would be healed. So what does he now believe? What does his whole household now believe? Now they believe in Jesus to be their Helper in every need, in every future crisis, in the face of sin, death, and the devil. They know Jesus to be their Savior, who will never disappoint them, who will never let them down, who will be their Advocate before the throne of God and a strong Refuge in every time of trouble.

In a world that is constantly changing and changing for the worse, where the people around you are floundering like drowning men at sea, searching for anything to hold onto, anything to believe, you have been thrown a lifeline, the one certain thing that will hold you up for time and for eternity: the living and enduring word of God, whose promises are all “yes” in Christ Jesus. You have His Word to you in your Baptism, promising you remission of sins. You have His Word to you in Holy Absolution, promising you continual remission of sins. You have His Word to you in the Sacrament of the Altar, promising you forgiveness and strength, communion with the Son of God, and a share in His resurrection and eternal life. Believe! And in believing, you have a reliable shield with which you will be able to quench all the deadly darts of the devil, a shield built by God’s Holy Spirit, a shield of faith that will never fail. Amen.

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Sermon for Trinity 20

Isaiah 65:1-2  +  Ephesians 5:15-21  +  Matthew 22:1-14

There’s an awful lot of darkness in this world. The days are evil, St. Paul wrote to the Ephesians almost 2,000 years ago. And they haven’t gotten any less evil. If anything, the darkness around us is growing, thriving, consuming everything. There is violence in our world like there has never been, violence in general, violence toward Christians, violence toward innocent children in their mothers’ wombs, and so many people defending the violence. Wickedness in all its forms is praised and promoted, and truth and righteousness are rejected and attacked on all sides. Such darkness all around.

But you have been called out of darkness into the wonderful light of Christ. Not that you have been brought out of the world yet, but you have been made citizens of God’s nation, which is not America, but the Holy Christian/Catholic Church. You are now in the world, but not of the world. The darkness that is around you cannot touch you, cannot consume you, because God has called you into the well-lit wedding feast of His Son.

Many are called, of course. But few are chosen. What does that mean? What’s the difference between the called and the chosen? Between the called and the elect? You’ve heard of the doctrine of election. Elect and chosen are the same word in Greek. The doctrine of election is the Biblical teaching that God has chosen beforehand those who will finally spend eternity with Him in His kingdom of light. It’s a doctrine that can be confusing, but not if we stick with the simple explanation that Jesus gives us in today’s Gospel.

This parable of the wedding feast isn’t hard to understand at all. A King arranges a marriage for His Son. God the Father, in eternity, before the world’s foundation is laid, decrees that He will send His Son into the world and shed His blood to redeem fallen mankind from sin, death and the devil, and will unite His Son to a Bride, to the Holy Christian Church that He will purify by the washing with water through the Word, through Holy Baptism, as Paul writes to the Ephesians. Already in eternity, God the Father chose those who would be incorporated into the Bride of His Son.

Throughout the Old Testament, God spoke to people about this wedding and specifically invited the Jews, the people of Israel, to be ready for the coming of the Christ, so that, when He arrived, they could be the first to come and meet Him, to come to the wedding feast and be saved.

Then Christ came. The wedding was ready. And the word went out, from John the Baptist, from the apostles, from Jesus Himself. Word would keep going out after Jesus’ death and resurrection. All things are ready. Come to the feast! Repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus Christ for the remission of sins! But those who were invited, the Jews especially, mostly refused to come, refused to be baptized and come to God through the reconciliation made by Christ. The King sent out other messengers, but still, the people mostly refused to come. Some were too busy or too uninterested to worry about the Word of Christ, while others got so angry at the messengers that they mistreated them and put them to death.

This is still the reaction most people have to the true Gospel. Either they’re uninterested in it, or they persecute it, because it calls their deeds evil and insists that they repent of their sins, acknowledge the God of the Bible as the only true God, and turn to Christ in humility, for forgiveness. It’s no secret how unbelievers have persecuted the Church, from the Old Testament Prophets to John the Baptist, to Jesus Himself, to His apostles, and down through the ages to the present time, as we continue to hear in the news. So it does us no good to worry about people rejecting the Gospel. It does us no good to wring our hands when the Gospel of Christ goes out and not many come into the Church. And it certainly does us no good to whine or complain or get angry when Christians are persecuted or killed. That’s the way it is in this dark world. That’s why we were called out of it in the first place to the wedding feast of Christ, that we may not perish with the unbelieving world. Let God get angry about it. He does, as Jesus says in the parable that the king was furious. Let God do something about it, as Jesus says in the parable that the king sent out his armies, destroyed those murderers, and burned up their city. But those armies are not Christians. They are the angel armies who will gather the wicked on the Last Day and throw them into the fires of hell. As for us, let us continue to simply be messengers of the truth.

Through the Gospel that has gone out into the world, through God’s servants who proclaim it, the King invites many more people. Go into the highways, and as many as you find, invite to the wedding. Come to the feast! Come and dine with the King in His house! Repent and be baptized for the remission of sins! And many have come, including many of the least important people in the world. Weak, sick, poor, sinful, of every nation, tribe, language and people, the good and the bad. Whoever hears this Gospel of Christ is being called by the Holy Spirit to come into God’s kingdom. Because the worthiness for attendance at this feast does not come from the invited guests, but from the Bridegroom Himself. He offers His worthiness in the baptismal waters, to cover the guests with it as with a garment, so that they may attend the feast in the house of God. As St. Paul says to the Galatians, You who were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.

But there is a guest in the house when the king comes who is not dressed with the wedding garment. He has entered the house. He has entered the Church. He has been baptized. He calls himself a Christian. But he is not dressed with the garment of faith. He calls himself a Christian, but has no trust in Christ alone as the only God and Savior. He doesn’t believe what the Holy Spirit teaches about Christ in the Word of God. He may be able to hide that lack of faith from his fellow guests, but he can’t hide it from God, the King. God knows those who are His. And so, when God comes on the Last Day, that Christian-in-name-only is bound and cast outside into outer darkness together with all those who were once invited and refused to come.

Many are called, but few are chosen. The Jews boasted that they had been called. We are Abraham’s children, they cried. God has called us by name. And to be called by God into His kingdom is, indeed, a very great gift. No one can be saved without being called by the Gospel.

But hearing the Gospel does no one any good if they don’t combine the hearing with faith. The Holy Spirit is working through the Gospel to bring people to faith in Christ whenever the Gospel is preached, but many of those who hear stubbornly resist the Holy Spirit, as the Martyr Stephen accused the Jews of doing as they were about to stone him to death for daring to invite them to receive forgiveness through Christ. Not all who are called are chosen to enter eternal life, but only those who hear the Gospel and believe it and persevere in that faith until the end.

But when does this “choosing,” this “election” take place? We learn from the Scriptures that it took place before the world was made. The chosen, the elect, were chosen in Christ in eternity, chosen by God’s grace; called here in time through the Gospel; justified through faith in Christ; and persevere until the end wearing the garment of Christ’s righteousness by remaining in true faith in Christ until the arrival of the King on the Last Day. Or, if they fall away from faith for a time, which can certainly happen, they are called again by the Gospel, brought to repentance, and justified by faith.

So what do we learn for our correction and edification from this Gospel?

First, we learn that God’s invitation to come into His Church and His eternal kingdom does not depend at all on the worthiness of the guests, but only on God’s grace and the merits of Christ.

Second, we learn that God’s invitation to come into His Church and His eternal kingdom is always sincere. God truly wants all those who are invited to come, to believe in Christ, to receive forgiveness of sins, and to have eternal life. This is where Calvinists and the Reformed get it so terribly wrong. Calvinists teach that God does not truly desire that all people should be saved, and that the Holy Spirit does not intend the Gospel invitation for all those who hear it. But Christ teaches that the King eagerly desired that all the invited guests should come. So you can trust that when you hear the Gospel, when you are told to repent of your sins and flee to Christ for refuge, God intends that message for you to take to heart and believe.

Third, we learn that it’s man’s own fault when he turns down the Gospel invitation. It was entirely the fault of the invited guests when they refused to come or refused to wear the wedding garment. This, too, is against the Calvinists, who teach a “double predestination,” that God, in His sovereign will, made an absolute decree in eternity that some would be saved and some would be damned, that some would be created for heaven, while most people would be created for hell. But Jesus does not teach that anyone was chosen by God to be condemned. He says that “few are chosen,” referring to those who are chosen to eternal life. He doesn’t say that the rest were “chosen” for eternal death.

Fourth, we learn that it’s all God’s doing when people are saved. From the election of grace, to the sending of the Gospel invitation here in time, to the faith that is given as a gift by the Holy Spirit from the hearing of the Gospel, to the justification by faith, to the preservation of our faith through the Means of Grace, to our final glorification in heaven, it’s all from God.

And finally, we learn how urgent it is that we hear and take to heart the Gospel invitation, to make our calling and election sure, as St. Paul says. God doesn’t send us back into eternity to search to see if your name is written in Christ, the Book of Life. He sends you to this ministry of the Word, to Baptism and to the Holy Supper. Listen to His Word now that tells you of the goodness of Christ, His atoning sacrifice, His resurrection, and His will that all men should believe in Him to be saved. Those who are not baptized should not put it off any longer. Those who are baptized should use the means God has provided for our salvation. Hear the Word of God. Receive His Sacrament. Be steadfast in prayer, in godly living, in struggling against the flesh, and in bearing the cross patiently. God has provided and will continue to provide all that is necessary for your salvation. Take it as evidence of your election that God has called you through the Gospel into fellowship with His Son, and be assured that your faith and your salvation is no accident. It was planned by God in eternity. You were chosen in Christ from eternity, and neither Satan nor death nor any of the darkness of this world will be able to snatch you out of Christ’s hand. Amen.

Source: Sermons

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Sermon for Trinity 17

1 Samuel 2:1-10  +  Ephesians 4:1-6  +  Luke 14:1-11

Today is the Sabbath. But not because it’s Sunday. Today is the Sabbath, even for us New Testament Christians. Time to rest. Time to take a much-needed break. But a break from what? Rest from what? Rest for what? What was the purpose of the Old Testament Sabbath? What is the New Testament Sabbath? Our Gospel provides some answers to those questions.

Our Gospel took place on a Sabbath Day, possibly on a Friday evening after sunset, or, more likely, on a Saturday before sunset. Remember what the Old Testament Sabbath requirements were. First, it was not for all people on earth to observe. God said through Moses, “The Sabbath Day is a sign between Me and the children of Israel forever.” Not a sign between God and all flesh or all people, but between God and Israel. Why? Because He had special things to teach Israel about the coming of Christ, until the coming of Christ. The Sabbath Day was from Friday sunset to Saturday sunset, and the people of Israel were to do no work. They were to take the day completely off. Not to go out and play games. Not to go on a trip or a journey or to get some chores done around the house. But to rest. To let their servants and workers and animals also rest, and to gather with other Israelites in sacred assembly around the Word of God.

There was nothing wrong with having a meal together with friends and guests on the Sabbath Day, as we see in our Gospel, as long as the preparations for the meal were done ahead of time. But at this particular meal, the Pharisees who were there had an agenda. They were watching Jesus closely. What would He do on the Sabbath, this man who claims to be a teacher sent by God? Would He slip up? Would He break God’s commandment? Could they catch Him in some kind of sin and so try to prove to the people that He hadn’t come from God?

As we heard in the Gospel, there was a man present at that Pharisee’s house who had dropsy, a disease that causes pain and swelling. He must have heard that Jesus was kind and merciful and had the power to heal and to help, so he went to where Jesus was.

Jesus knew they were watching Him. So He put the ball in their court. He put the question to them, Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath? They didn’t answer. So Jesus gave them the answer by healing the man. The Sabbath Law was never intended to prevent the Israelites from doing good for one another. It was intended to force them to rest, not from service, but from self-service. In other words, it was about faith and love.

It was especially about faith. Faith in God means resting from doing work to earn God’s favor. It’s a Sabbath rest. You’re not allowed to do any work, because your works—even your best works—are sinful and not good enough to satisfy the strict requirements of God’s holy Law. As Jeremiah says in Lamentations, It is good that one should hope and wait quietly For the salvation of the LORD. As the Psalmist says, Be still, and know that I am God. Or as God says through Isaiah the Prophet, In returning and rest you shall be saved; In quietness and confidence shall be your strength.

Faith is confidence in God to save you without your works, but solely by His grace, for the sake of Christ Jesus and His works. In fact, if you try to work for your salvation, if you try to merit God’s favor, you’ll never get it, because that’s not faith in God. It’s faith in you. And, no matter what anyone tells you, you should never believe in yourself, because you’re not God. Believe in God, who tells you in His Word that He wants to save you through rest, through faith, and not through any merit or worthiness on your part. The Sabbath Day was to be a weekly object lesson in faith that rests in God’s grace and mercy.

It was also about love. The Israelites were to be thinking about their neighbor and his need to rest, too. It was a day for the Israelites to stop working to earn money for themselves, to stop working to take care of their own property, their own family, their own needs, so that they could look up from their self-service and see how they might serve their neighbor, to have a chance to love their neighbor without worrying about themselves, especially in times of emergency or great need. The Sabbath Law was not there to be a burden to Israel, and it certainly wasn’t intended to give them an excuse to sit back and watch their neighbor go hungry or die, because they were so busy resting that they couldn’t lend a hand to help.

Jesus made that point to the guests at the Sabbath meal. Which of you, having a donkey or an ox that has fallen into a pit, will not immediately pull him out on the Sabbath day? Of course they would pull their animal out of the pit! As well they should! How much more should they help their neighbor on the Sabbath, if he needed their help. And, of course, the greatest Helper of all helpers was present on that day. The Pharisees should have been overjoyed that Jesus was there to help the man with dropsy on that Sabbath—not to mention that He was also there to help them, to be their Savior from sin and death.

So the Sabbath was always about faith and love—faith toward God that rests and offers Him nothing to earn His favor, and love toward the neighbor that seeks to serve the neighbor and not the self.

The rest of the Gospel is an illustration of this very thing. There the guests were at this dinner, on the Sabbath, serving themselves, choosing the best seats at the dinner for themselves, the seats of honor, because at that time it was the custom to arrange the seating at such events to show whom the host of the banquet held in greater or lesser esteem. So choosing your own seat of honor, as if you could determine how highly the host should think of you, was an act of great arrogance toward the host, and of great disdain for your fellow guests.

That’s not the thing to do, Jesus says. It’s precisely the opposite of what the Sabbath teaches. But it’s not the seating at a wedding banquet that matters. It’s the attitude of your heart toward God and toward your fellow man. It’s your position in the kingdom of God that truly matters. And if you seek to serve yourself in God’s kingdom, if you seek to grab a position of honor in God’s kingdom, if you think of yourself as being better or more worthy than your fellow guests in God’s kingdom, then God will not be happy with you. He will come and shame you publicly on the Last Day and cast you down.

Instead of choosing the highest place for yourself, Jesus says, choose the lowest place for yourself. Consider your own sinfulness before God and recognize that you deserve no honor from Him whatsoever, only wrath and punishment. And, as Paul writes to the Philippians, in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. In your heart, choose the lowest place, the lowest seat, and then sit there and wait. Sit there and trust. Sit there and rest. So that when he who invited you comes he may say to you, ‘Friend, go up higher.’ Then you will have glory in the presence of those who sit at the table with you. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.

The truth is, you were invited into God’s great wedding feast by grace, not because of your worthiness. God honored you, not because you were honorable, but because He intends to make you honorable. You weren’t chosen above other people because you’re better than other people, but only because of God’s grace in Christ Jesus. By faith in Him, God counts you as honorable in His sight, and you can be sure that He will honor you on the Last Day. There’s no need to serve yourself or to work for yourself. God has come to serve you and to work for you. The Son of God came and shed His blood for you, that you may be told on the Last Day to “go up higher,” higher than you deserve, higher than you think you deserve, to sit at the table with Christ Jesus Himself, and with all those who, by faith, have received their worthiness from Him.

He invites the humble to the Table even now, to go up higher, to kneel in the presence of Jesus and to share in this communion with the Most High. Here is your honor! Here is your worthiness! This is what makes today a Sabbath Day for us New Testament Christians. Not the fact that it’s Sunday, but the fact that the Word of God is preached to you and the Sacrament of Christ is administered to you. It’s time to rest. It’s time to take a break from self-service. Let God serve you with His forgiveness. Let Christ honor you as a guest at His Holy Supper. And look around at your fellow guests, not to think of ways in which they may serve you, but for ways in which you may serve them, until all believers enter that eternal, heavenly Sabbath rest in the glorious kingdom of God. Amen.

Source: Sermons

Sermon for Trinity 16

Deuteronomy 32:39-40  +  Ephesians 3:13-21  +  Luke 7:11-17

Our Gospel today turns our attention to sorrow, weeping, coffins and death—and resurrection! — as if the Holy Spirit, through His Church, were preparing us for a funeral. In effect, He is. That’s exactly what He’s doing, preparing you for a funeral, your funeral or the funeral of a loved one. He’s preparing you for death, which can come for any of us at any moment, expectedly or unexpectedly, slowly or quickly, painfully or painlessly. We know that too well. Death seems distant most of the time, but when it strikes, everything stops.

So, how does God prepare you for the funerals you will take part in? Not by pretending death isn’t real, or by distracting you so you don’t have to think about it. He prepares you for death by surrounding death with hope—the hope of a compassionate Lord Jesus who will come, unexpectedly, and do something about death, even as He did in our Gospel.

A young man in the city of Nain had died. Had he been sick? Was he in an accident? Was it sudden, or was it a long, slow process? We don’t know. It doesn’t matter. He died too young. Of course, in reality, everyone who dies dies too young. The 93 year old who dies dies too young, because we weren’t supposed to die at all. God didn’t create us to die. Sin brought death upon our race, and we’ve gotten very used to death over these past 6,000 years.

Still, it’s especially hard when a mother loses a son, and even harder when the woman is left all alone, without a husband, without other children, when she was counting on her son, not only to keep her company, but to support her and care for her in her old age. Instead, here she is, burying her boy.

But then Jesus appears and meets the funeral procession as it’s proceeding out of the gates of Nain. And what it says about Jesus speaks volumes about the heart of God. When the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her. Pay attention to those words. They tell you about Jesus, and therefore, they tell you about God. The widow hadn’t done anything to earn God’s compassion. God’s compassion is aroused, not by a person’s goodness, but by a person’s misery, by a person’s hopelessness and helplessness. And even though you will not see Jesus coming up to anyone’s coffin at a funeral, this Gospel text allows you to see what your eyes can’t see, that God is not indifferent to our loss, that God isn’t cold or heartless or forgetful. He has compassion on the bereaved. That compassion is unseen when a person a dies. But what’s hidden at our funerals is revealed in St. Luke’s Gospel. So again and as always, cling to the Word of God, and not to what your eyes can see.

Jesus approaches the widow and says to her, “Do not weep.” It’s not a rebuke, not a, “Stop crying. You should be happy that your loved one is dead!” Or, “Death is no reason to cry!” No, no you shouldn’t be happy when someone dies, even a Christian who you know is only sleeping until the resurrection. Not happy, but hopeful! “Do not weep” is not a divine commandment that forbids you to weep at a funeral. It’s a word of deep sympathy from Him who can and does sympathize with us in our weakness, from Him who bore our griefs and carried our sorrows. More than that, it’s the assurance that, “I am about to remove the reason for your weeping.”

That happened immediately in the widow’s case. Jesus walked up to the open coffin as they were carrying it, touched it, halting the funeral procession, and said to the dead man, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” And the dead man sat up and began to speak. Such is the almighty power of the Word of Christ.

This is the first of the three Gospel accounts of Jesus raising the dead. And we ask, why only three? Were there no others widows in Israel who lost a son during Jesus’ time on earth? Were there no other deaths, no other coffins, no other funerals? What about all the death that has taken place from the time of Adam to the present day? If Jesus can do something about it, why didn’t He? Why doesn’t He?

He did. And He does. But His solution to death is not man’s solution. Man’s solution is, “Well, OK, sure, I rebelled against God, even though He threatened me with death if I did. But now it’s God’s fault if He actually follows through with His threat and kills me. If He were a good God, He wouldn’t punish me or anyone else with death. If Jesus were the Messiah, He would rid the world of death immediately.”

That’s man’s solution. See how arrogant it is, how idolatrous? God says that the wages of sin is death, but man says, “God has no right to punish sinners with death. It’s God who’s unjust. It’s God who’s mean and unloving and uncaring.”

You can’t overlook the seriousness of sin, including the nature-sin that infects the soul from birth. Death is God’s doing, He’s in charge of it; but it isn’t God’s fault. The soul that sins shall die, God says. And He is righteous in His judgment.

So what is God’s solution to death? It was to send His only-begotten Son into our flesh in order for Him to suffer death, in order that He, by the grace of God, might taste death for everyone. But by His death, the Righteous for the unrighteous, He conquered death. And so He rose from the dead, never to die anymore. That’s what He did.

What He does—God’s solution to death in the present time—is not to stop people from dying or to raise the dead immediately. His solution is to speak His Law that exposes our sin and brings the impenitent to acknowledge their sins, so that they feel the sting of death in their hearts. And then, through this ministry of the Word, He speaks His Gospel of peace, calling sinners to flee to Him for refuge, for the forgiveness of sins, for life instead of death. He sends ministers to baptize people and attaches the promise of everlasting life to it. He gives His body and blood in the Sacrament as the medicine of eternal life, so that whoever believes in the Son has eternal life even now, so that, when a Christian dies, death is surrounded by hope. Not the hope of an immediate resurrection, but the hope of a resurrection that will take place “soon,” when Christ returns, when He will raise your sleeping ones who were baptized into Him and remained faithful until death.

So between now and your funeral, or the funeral of your loved ones, what could be more urgent than Baptism and remaining faithful until death? It’s not in your power to force anyone to be baptized or to remain faithful until death. It is in your power to speak the Word of God, to urge your unbelieving family and neighbors to turn to the true God and the Christian faith, and to urge your believing brothers and sisters to stay close to God’s Word and Sacraments and to remain faithful until death, trusting that the Holy Spirit will be in charge of the outcome.

There will still be weeping on this earth, for many reasons, including death. Remember the picture St. John paints for us in Revelation 7: it’s only after death that Christ, the Lamb of God who sits on the throne of God, will wipe away every tear from our eyes. Our Gospel isn’t intended to turn death into a happy event, but into a hopeful event for Christians. It’s here to prepare us for death ahead of time, so that when it comes, your weeping may be accompanied by hope. Soon, and unexpectedly, the God of all compassion will remove the reason for your weeping. Soon the Lord Christ will return and put an end to funerals for good. Amen.

Source: Sermons

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Sermon for Trinity 15

Deuteronomy 6:4-7  +  Galatians 5:25-6:10  +  Matthew 6:24-34

Jesus identifies an idol for us in today’s Gospel, the idol called Mammon. Money. Wealth. But the problem with Mammon isn’t what a lot of people today think it is. Oh, there are lots of wealth-related problems: Bribery. Greed. Extortion. Fraud. Stealing. Trampling your neighbor under your feet in order to get ahead. But the problem isn’t having wealth, even a lot of wealth. Money isn’t the root of all evil. But the love of it is, as St. Paul writes. And specifically, in our Gospel, the trust in it is the big problem.

As Jesus explains it, trust in money or wealth is behind most of the worrying we do, or at least the worrying we do about material things and financial things, which is what we’re focusing on today. Will I have enough food for tomorrow? Will I have clothes to wear tomorrow? What do I have to do to make sure I have enough food and clothing for tomorrow?

At least, that’s what the disciples of Jesus were worried about. But when was the last time you had that specific worry? We live in a strange time in world history, and in a strange place called America. When was the last time you worried about putting food on your table for the next day? When was the last time you worried about having clothes to wear tomorrow? Some people do worry about those things, but I think most of us spend more time worrying, not about tomorrow, or next week, but maybe a year from now, or five years, or 50. Because, well, we have enough of a cushion to see us through for at least a little while.

And, for that matter, I don’t think most of us worry about having enough to stay alive, but about having enough to maintain a standard of living—and even a comfortable standard of living that might include a bigger house than we need, or an extra car, or gourmet food, or many changes of clothing, or a cable bill, internet bill, cell phone bill, trips to the restaurant, a college fund, and other items that are nice to have, but not essential to life.

Now, don’t imagine that I’m shaming anyone for anything on that list. What I’m saying is this: if you find yourself worrying about things like that—standard of living things or things that you may not need for six months or for five or ten years, what would you do if you were truly living paycheck to paycheck just to fulfill your most basic needs of food and clothing for the next week, as many of Jesus’ disciples were in our Gospel? You would live in a state of continual panic. And so would I. Or at least, the faithless, idolatrous sinful flesh in us would be screaming at us to panic. To be anxious. To worry, pretty much all the time. How will we get the things we need for tomorrow? Or will we starve?

It’s that your flesh doesn’t trust God. Ever, from the moment you were conceived. It doesn’t trust God to know your needs or to provide for your needs or to care enough about you to provide for them. Your flesh won’t be satisfied until you have enough money to feel safe, enough wealth. But I’ll tell you a secret: there will never be enough money for that. Money is a poor master. The more you have, the more you need, the more you need, the more you worry about how much money you don’t have.

At times, your faith may be strong enough, that is, firmly resting on God’s faithful promises of love and fatherly providence and divine goodness, that you’re able to mostly drown out the voice of your unbelieving, idolatrous flesh. But at other times, faith becomes little, which means that God becomes little in your heart, in your thinking, and money starts to grow and take’s God’s place in your heart as that thing that you need so much, that thing that you trust in so much, that thing that, if you only had it, you would finally feel safe. What will you do to get it? What will you do if you don’t get it? That’s worry, fueled by a trust in faithless mammon.

You cannot serve both God and Mammon. So recognize the idol. Call it by name. And turn again to the true God, to your Father, who knew you in eternity, chose you to be His, sent His Son into our flesh, crucified Him to make atonement for your sins, raised Him from the dead, called you by the Gospel, adopted you in Holy Baptism, and committed Himself to see you safely through this earthly life, all the way into His heavenly house.

Do you want a sign that your Father will care for you and provide you with enough food so that you don’t have to worry? Look at the birds, Jesus says. They neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? It’s that last phrase that really offers comfort. God provides food for the birds. You are much more valuable than the birds to your Father in heaven. He didn’t send His Son to become a bird or to save the birds. The birds do not have eternal souls. But man was made in the image of God. Mankind has been redeemed by the blood of Christ. And you have been washed in that blood and brought into Christ’s Holy Catholic Church. So count on your Father to do much more for you than He does for the birds.

Do you want a sign that your Father will care for you and provide you with enough clothing so that you don’t have to worry? Consider the lilies, Jesus says. They neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? The Lord rightly rebukes us for not trusting in Him to provide. Now, you can either take His rebuke and go sulk in a corner somewhere, or you can take His rebuke to heart and learn from Jesus’ words and turn to your Father in faith. As Jesus says in the book of Revelation, As many as I love, I rebuke and chasten.

The Gentiles—the pagans, the heathen—run around searching for ways to provide for themselves, because they don’t have a Father like you do. But you who have a Father in heaven who has made you His sons through faith in Christ Jesus—to you Jesus says, seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.

What does it mean to seek the kingdom of God and His righteousness? It means faith toward God and love toward your neighbor: faith that looks up to God with empty hands, ready to receive everything from Him, from the forgiveness of sins to the needs of your body; and love that is busy and active, that is anxious, not to provide for yourself or to serve yourself, but to serve your neighbor in his need. You want to worry about getting more money? OK. Just don’t worry about getting it for yourself. You’re taken care of, right? Worry instead about using money to help your neighbor with it.

All this has been said about worrying over money and financial needs. But it applies to your other worries as well—health worries, relationship worries, and whatever other things you think you need to worry about. You have a good and gracious Father who has promised to provide you with your daily bread and all that is included together with daily bread. Put your today and your tomorrows in His faithful hands, and let Him worry about it. Cast all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. Amen.

Source: Sermons