Monday, February 17, 2025

Sermon - Epiphany 6 - 1 Corinthians 15:2-20; Luke 6:17-26



The Epiphany Season continues to set before us the question – “who is this Jesus who has appeared and manifested among us?”  He’s the True Bridegroom at the Wedding at Cana.  He’s the preacher who is rejected in his hometown of Nazareth.  He’s the one who teaches with authority and casts out demons and heals the sick.  And he’s the one who calls people to follow him, making fishermen into fishers of men. 

Like the facets of a diamond, we can continue to observe the many aspects of his Epiphany, and see him as both God and man, prophet, priest, and king.  The savior, the redeemer, the one who makes atonement for sin.  The Messiah of the Jews and the Christ of the Gentiles.  It really is all about Jesus. 

 

Today, Luke gives us a bit more of Jesus’ preaching ministry in what is called the “Sermon on the Plain.”  It is similar to his probably more famous “Sermon on the Mount” from Matthew’s Gospel.  Here, he also begins with a poetic piece known as the Beatitudes.  Only this time he not only mentions those who are blessed, but also those who are cursed, or objects of woe.  It’s a study in contrasts as Jesus paints a picture of life as a believer in him. 

 

For the first three blessings, Jesus speaks metaphorically, about the poor, the hungry and those who weep.  Three sad states of affair in this earthly life that most everyone wants to avoid.  The poor lack money to buy what they need.  The hungry lack food to sustain their very life.  And the mourners are deeply grieving some sad state of affairs, most likely someone’s death.  The poor, the hungry, and those who weep – are three pictures of people the world would say are decidedly not favored, not well off, and certainly not blessed by God. 

But Jesus doesn’t think like the world.  In fact he comes to turn the things of the world upside down and inside out.  The poor, he makes rich, even kings, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  The hungry he fills with good things, and they are satisfied.  And those who weep see their tears turned to joy and laughter.   

 

At the end of the book “The Lord of the Rings”, the hobbit Samwise Gamgee wakes up to the bright sun and see his friend Gandalf the wizard.  He thought Gandalf was dead, for the last time he saw him he had fallen down a great chasm.  Sam says, “I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself! Is everything sad going to come untrue?” 

 

With Jesus, that’s just how it is.  In the end, everything sad comes untrue.  For great is your reward in heaven. 

 

It’s not simply being poor or hungry or sad, however that saves you.  Nor is it enduring the hatred of the world, in and of itself.  Faith in Christ alone saves. 

 

But for the one who trusts in Christ, all of this world’s woes are nothing compared to the blessings we are promised.  This world is passing away, it has an expiration date.  But the reward of heaven is forever.  And the blessings in store for us far outshine any woes of this life. 

 

Conversely, those who find their fulfillment only in this world are in a bad way.  Woe unto them.   If your master is your money, you cannot serve God and money, and you will see it all come to nothing.  If your god is your stomach, and all your cares are for the pleasures of this life, then that is all the consolation you will see.  If you laugh now – that is if you find your happiness and joy only in this life – you will find mourning and weeping ahead of you, even gnashing of teeth.   

 

The world may look at wealth and pleasure and all the desirable things of this world as blessings, but the true blessings are not so flashy, not so shallow, and not so easily seen.  True blessing is in Christ, and him crucified for sinners.  True blessing is in his resurrection from the dead, which gives us the hope of the resurrection. 

 

Today we also have a portion of the Great Resurrection Chapter, 1 Corinthians 15.  Here Paul indicates that some were saying in Corinth that Christ didn’t really rise from the dead, and that Christ only gives us hope for this world.  What a horrible lie!  If Christ isn’t raised from the dead then our faith is in vain – it’s all for naught – the whole thing comes tumbling down.  If Christ didn’t conquer death, then how could we have any hope?  If Christ is not raised from the dead, then our future prospects are quite grave.   

 

For as Paul rightly shows us, Christ’s resurrection and our own resurrection are connected.  Ours depends on his.  And his guarantees our own.  Christ’s resurrection is the first-fruit.  He’s the early harvest.  But much more is yet to come.  He’s the first born of the dead, and his brothers and sisters will surely follow. 

 

We confess this in the creeds, of course.  I believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting. That’s your body, raised from the dead to live in the kingdom of glory forever.  Great is your reward in heaven! 

 

Here is hope also for our loved ones who have died in the faith.  Paul speaks of them as having fallen asleep.  Yes!  Because they will wake up, they will arise, with all the faithful dead at the trumpet call of God on the last day.   

 

If our hope in Christ was only for this life, Paul says, we are most pitiful.  Then poverty and hunger and weeping and persecution would be the end of the story.  Then there would be nothing but woe for us.  We would be without hope.   

 

But Christ has been raised from the dead, and he lives forever.  And you will be raised from the dead, also to live forever!  Blessed are you, indeed!  For in that day, everything sad will come untrue.  And all the blessings now hidden will be revealed.  Fortunes are reversed, the mighty are brought low, and the lowly raised up.  And even death itself must give way to life.   

Monday, February 10, 2025

Sermon - Epiphany 5 - Isaiah 6:1-6

 


Sometime or another, we’ve all been caught in a lie.  It’s not a fun experience.  You dishonesty is exposed.  You stand convicted.  What will the other person say or do now?  Will they ever trust you again?  Do you try to double down and grow the lie with more deceit? Or do you fess up and humbly ask for forgiveness?

But what if it’s not just a white lie that snagged you, but a big one, a whopper?  And what if it’s not just another person that is calling you out, but a judge?  In fact, what if it’s the heavenly judge of all, the one who sits on the throne?  The one from whom there is no hiding, who cannot be fooled, who knows our every darkest, deepest sin, and by rights could call us to account.

That’s where Isaiah found himself in his vision of Yahweh, the Lord.  Sure it was an awesome sight – God himself enthroned over the temple, his throne, his robe filling up the whole building with its train.  The angels flitting about and singing a thunderous song that shook the foundations of this great building.  You might think Isaiah would leap for joy to see such a sight.  But that is not his reaction.

He realizes this is his doom.  For as much as God is, as the angels sing, “holy, holy, holy”, Isaiah is “sinful, sinful, sinful.”  He immediately becomes acutely aware of his own sin, his own unworthiness, especially to stand in the presence of Yahweh, that his eyes have beheld such a sight.  And dread seizes him.

“I am a man of unclean lips, and I live in the midst of a people of unclean lips.”  Isaiah is caught in his lie, and it’s a big one.  There’s no talking your way out of this one.  Isaiah knew it well. 

We can sympathize.  At least, we should.  For we too are people of unclean lips.  From the same mouth pour blessings and curses, and this should not be!  From our lips come all sorts of lies and deceits, disparaging of neighbor and prideful boasting.  We do not speak well of our neighbor as we should.  We do not defend his reputation as we ought.  We find countless and creative ways to sin with our lips, our words, and our failures to speak as we ought. 

Unclean lips.  That’s just scratching the surface.  Our whole lives are a lie.  We live day to day as if we aren’t unclean – putting on a show for ourselves and others that everything is just fine and we’ve got it all together and life is good.  Sometimes the truth peeks through here and there.  But Isaiah’s vision tears back the curtain, rips off the façade, and lays bare the truth for him – and for us – we’re doomed.  Woe is me!  Woe is you, too, fellow sinner.  Woe is us all.

One thing Isaiah’s lips do get right, however, is to confess this miserable situation.  He rightly speaks when he admits and owns his uncleanness.  As do we.  Confessing our sins is one of the best things we can do with these unclean lips.  A bit of honesty about ourselves prompted and moved by the Holy Spirit, who convicts our unclean hearts by his law.  Then, when we are brought low, when faced with the stark reality of it, how dire our sinful situation is, we are ready for cleansing, for grace, for restoration, for atonement.

As holy, holy, holy as he is, God is also merciful, merciful, merciful.  He doesn’t let Isaiah languish long in his guilt, but he sends forth one of these holy angels to perform an important task.  A glowing coal from the altar, the place of sacrifice, is taken and touched to Isaiah’s lips.  And the angel speaks the good news:  “This has touched your lips.  You sin is atoned for.”  The thunderous voice that shook the doorposts now speaks a kind and gentle word of pardon.  And it came so swiftly, so fully, and so freely.  God is merciful.

That altar is the place of sacrifice, and it is a shadow itself of the great sacrifice to come.  The Lord who sits enthroned above the temple would himself come down and assume our human flesh, take on our unclean lips and hands and hearts, and carry them with all their sin and guilt to his cross.  There, at the cross, atonement is made for Isaiah, for all his people, and for all people of unclean lips, even those here today.  The fire of God’s wrath consumes Christ, and not us.  The woe that was us, he faces in our place.  The just sentence of death that should have been upon us, falls upon him, and he bears it graciously.

In many and various ways God spoke to our fathers of old.  In burning bush and fiery pillar, in cloud and smoke and awe.  In dreams and visions, like this one seen by Isaiah.  But now in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son.  Jesus has come.  And we have his word.  We have preachers who bring that good news to us, much as the angel did for Isaiah.  But we have even better.

In the vision, God forgave Isaiah with the glowing hot coal that touched his lips.  But in these last days, he forgives us also by means of the Sacrament.  Here, he touches our lips with bread and wine that deliver us Christ’s body and blood, and our sin is atoned for.  Here, the holy, holy, holy One makes us holy by the forgiveness of our sins. Here the “woe is me” becomes, “how greatly blessed I am!”

But that’s not the end of the story, either.  Isaiah, now forgiven and at peace, is given an opportunity to serve.  “Whom shall I send?” God asks, and Isaiah responds in faith, “Here am I!  Send me.” No more is he wallowing in woe, paralyzed by fear of judgment.  The forgiveness of God empowers and frees us to serve.

It wasn’t going to be a picnic.  God was sending Isaiah as a prophet to a people unwilling to listen.  But just as Isaiah couldn’t have cleansed himself, but God provided for him, so does he also equip people for service that they couldn’t otherwise imagine they could do.

See also our Gospel reading, where Jesus similarly calls his disciples to leave their nets behind and become “fishers of men.”  Surely they had no idea what was to come.  But they trusted the one who called them, and he was faithful.

God has forgiven you, in Christ.  Your sin is atoned for.  And you, too, are called to serve.  You may not be called to the divinely instituted office of the public ministry.  But you may be called to serve as father or mother, wife or husband, son or daughter, teacher or student, employee or employer, citizen or friend. 

Wherever God has placed you, whomever he has placed in your care, however he has called you to serve, do so in the courage and confidence of a Christian.  Your lips and hands and hearts are clean in Jesus Christ, the once-and-for-all sacrifice.  When God comes calling, “whom shall I send?”, join your voice to Isaiah’s and cry, “Here am I!  Send me!”

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Monday, January 27, 2025

Sermon - Epiphany 3 - Luke 4:16-30

 


We learn from the Gospels that Jesus’ primary mission, apart from going to the cross to die for our sins, was to preach.  He did some miracles along the way – healing, casting out demons, even calming the storm, multiplying the loaves, and turning water to wine.  But his real interest, his true purpose in the three years leading up to the cross… was to preach.

We learn this also today from our reading in Luke, where Jesus visits his hometown of Nazareth.  And we are told that on the Sabbath day he went to the synagogue, “as was his custom”, read from the scriptures, and sat down to preach.

So the church continues to this day the practice of public reading of scripture and having someone preach on it.  This goes at least back to the time of Ezra, as we read in our Old Testament lesson, where the entire Law of Moses was read before the people (and it took half a day to do so!)  And they also had someone preach on the scriptures, or “give the sense of it” as Nehemiah puts it.

So also, faithful pastors today preach the word of God, and faithful Christians do well to hear it.  But what makes for a good sermon?  What should we be looking and listening for?  We can learn quite a bit about all this from the best preacher of them all – our Lord Jesus Christ, as he visits Nazareth and preaches on Isaiah.

There’s plenty of bad preaching out there.  But we are concerned primarily with substance over style.  Of course you want sermons that are well-delivered, but far more important is the content.  Luke therefore reports to us the “what” of Jesus’ preaching, and very little about the “how” of it.

So along that line….one thing we preachers learn, by way of contrast, is that we do not preach ourselves.  Jesus did – as he told them that Isaiah’s prophecy was fulfilled in him, and as the content of his preaching was about himself and his own work.  That in him, the kingdom of God had arrived.  Watch out for any other preacher who preaches himself!  Rather, we would preach Jesus.  Some pulpits even have a little plaque, affixed right up here where only the preacher can read it – a plaque that reads, “sir, we would see Jesus!”

For preachers, like all sinners, face temptations even in our preaching.  We may be tempted to preach our own agenda or some worldly “ism”.  That’s not Christian preaching.  Or we may be tempted to seek the approval of man.  To satisfy the itching ears of our listeners.  To preach sermons that feel good but may not proclaim the truth.  And all of us, as hearers, are likewise tempted to hear what we want to hear, and not what we need to hear. 

Just look at how fickle the congregation was in Nazareth.  At first, they spoke well of Jesus and his gracious words.  But when he challenged them, they changed their tune!  In wrath, they tried to throw him off a cliff!  Preaching can be a dangerous business, it seems.

But let’s not kill the messenger, nor close our ears to the uncomfortable word of God.  We all need to hear that word of law that convicts us of our sin.  We need the hardness of our hearts to be tilled by the law of God, to make ready for the seed of the Gospel.  The people of Nazareth were not having it.

Another lesson for preachers (and hearers) from this example of Jesus is this:  We preach the scriptures.  Jesus could well have spoken on any topic, for of course anything he says is de facto the word of God.  But notice, he bases his message on a reading, a text of Scripture.  He read from the prophet Isaiah and sat down to explain and proclaim it.

Just as he defeated the devil in the wilderness by reference to the written word of God, three times saying, “it is written…” So Jesus, in his preaching, also references the written word of God.  And we ought to take careful note of it.  Pastors who wander off into their own opinions and ideas, or who simply string together a bunch of entertaining stories, and congregations who go for that sort of thing, should take note of Jesus’ own preaching.

As a professor once told a group of pastors. “Gentlemen, the Scriptures are far more interesting than you are.”  Just so.  We want to hear the word of God, not the opinions and ideas of any man.

And finally, we preach Christ crucified.  Now, Jesus didn’t get to the crucifixion yet, but it’s sort of hidden in this text.  For when the crowd tried to put him to death, they couldn’t.  He mysteriously passed through them.  It wasn’t yet his time.  But that time would come, and the Gospels spend many pages telling the details of his arrest, trial, suffering and death.  Jews and Romans came together for it, the crowd cried out with one voice, “Crucify!”  And even the thief on the cross next to him joined in the mockery and hate.

But Jesus would not be deterred, and even from his cross he preached, seven precious words – not for himself, but always for us.

Therefore, Paul tells us in 1 Corinthians 1:

For Jews demand signs and Greeks seek wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles, but to those who are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.

It was true in Nazareth, too.  The Jews demanded signs, like Jesus did in Capernaum.  That’s what got them so mad – he called them out about it.

And doubtless others, even today, others look for wisdom: helpful hints for living, 5 keys to a health marriage, 12 steps to raising a healthy teenager, and on and on… preaching anything but Christ crucified.

But here’s a good rule of thumb.  A sermon without Christ is not really a Christian sermon.  And a sermon with Christ only as example is really not a good one either.  We want to no longer be blind, but to see Christ, and him crucified for sinners like us.  We want to hear about the Jesus who died for our sins to set us free from captivity to death and hell.  We want the preacher to proclaim the year of God’s favor. We want to hear about Christ who shed his blood for us to make us heirs of eternity. 

That’s the good news that he was anointed to preach to the poor.  Himself, and the work he was about to accomplish.  That’s the good news that we are given to preach and blessed to hear.

Scriptural preaching focused on the written word of God and proclaiming Christ crucified for sinners. 

Some may not like it.  Some may find it scandalous or foolish.  But preaching Christ crucified for sinners – it’s the very wisdom of God and the power of God.  So, hear it, dear Christian, and believe it.

For Jesus’ sake.  Amen.

Monday, January 20, 2025

Sermon - Epiphany 2 - John 2:1-12

 


For years Messiah has, like many faithful Christian churches, observed an annual “Life Sunday”.  Although a primary focus has been the battle against abortion, we’ve also highlighted the broader idea that all of life is a gift from God and is to be treasured, supported, and nurtured.  It’s also a big reason why Messiah operates a Swaddling Clothes ministry, and supports a local crisis pregnancy center. 

And while the issue of defending life remains, and in some form or fashion probably always will, today let’s broaden the scope of this emphasis even a little more to include another gift of God that has been under assault in our world, the family.  After all, marriage and family are the framework in which God desires to bring forth new life.  From a father and mother, united in marriage, God establishes the family, and through their one-flesh union continues to bless us with children.

Now, I don’t need to tell you that the family is under duress these days.  Marriage, as an institution, has been devalued and deconstructed for decades among us.  Divorce has become increasingly acceptable and easier to obtain.  Marriage has also been re-defined, less a sacred union of a man and a woman, but now a simple contract between two consenting adults, or maybe more, no matter their sex or gender. 

Even the foolish gender ideology that has run rampant these days, especially among many young people, is a twisting up and confusion of God’s intention for our life – that we are created male and female, that we are blessed to be fruitful and multiply in the bounds a sacred marriage union.

But sermons are not meant to be preached for us to feel morally superior to all those bad people out in the culture and the world.  Let’s not get on our collective high horse and just say, we love babies and families and marriage and shame on those who don’t.  We’re not here today to wag our collective finger at others.  Rather, let’s consider our own sin and how God deals with us graciously in Jesus Christ.

We come, today, to the wedding at Cana.  Here our Lord performs his first sign, turning water into wine.  The messianic implications of this are pretty clear.  John calls it a “sign” not just a miracle, to indicate it’s meant to point us to Jesus, a calling card or indication of who he truly is.

And the backdrop of a wedding for this first sign also implies a deep truth – that he, Jesus, is the true bridegroom, come to woo and win his bride.  He is the true host of the celebration, the one who invites others to the party.  He is the one who provides the best wine, without cost to the partiers. 

We aren’t told much about this occasion, who the people are getting married, or why Jesus and his mother and disciples are invited.  We know a little about the wedding customs of the day, but not much.  And we don’t know why they ran out of wine, although we know enough to know this was more than a minor problem.  A social gaffe of a pretty large scale on the most important day in someone’s life, the embarrassment before family and friends and the awkward position – well it’s not the end of the world, but it is a problem.

Mary somehow finds out, and reaction teaches us by example.  What do we do when there’s a problem, big or small?  Bring it to Jesus.  She simply reports the situation, the need, to her son, and seems to trust that he will know what to do. 

Do we bring our problems to Jesus in prayer?  Or do we try to handle everything ourselves?  Do we, mistakenly, think we shouldn’t bother Jesus with trivial matters, and only lean on him when the going gets really tough?  Ah, but the old hymn says it well, “what a privilege to carry everything to God in prayer.”

Some problems seem too small, but he is not bothered by our requests.  Even his gentle pushback to Mary doesn’t stop him from hearing her, and helping out.  It reminds us of when he seemed, at first, to turn away the Syrophoenician woman, “it isn’t right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs…” and yet he ended up helping her, too.  Perhaps he’s giving Mary an opportunity to exercise her faith here.

And some problems seem too big for us, with no possible solution or fix.  These, too, we must always bring to Jesus.  Like Mary, we can trust that he knows best, and will deal with us according to his love and kindness.

Mary then gives the servants the best advice, and it stands for us as well, “Do whatever he tells you.”  If only we could.

This is the same Jesus who summarized the entire law with two commands:  Love God, and love your neighbor.  If only we could do what he tells us.

We have a hard enough time loving even our own family members as we should, let alone loving God with all of our heart, soul and strength.  The commandments give us particular trouble, too, don’t they?  For who really can say that she honors her father and mother as she ought?  And who can really say he hasn’t committed adultery, if not in deed, then in word or thought? 

There’s plenty of evil out there in the world – disregard for life, and despising of marriage and family. But, no, we don’t do whatever he tells us, either.  According to his law, we are sinners.  We are like disobedient children or an unfaithful spouse – and God uses both of those pictures throughout Scripture to teach us. 

But our disobedience to his law is only part of the story. He is our ever-loving Father.  He is the faithful husband to his people.  For his word creates faith in us, and we are baptized into him. We are crucified with Christ.  We are buried and raised with Christ.  We are not only the sinner, but also the saint.  We therefore receive his instructions with gladness.  We joyfully do whatever he tells us.

He tells us to trust him, to believe in him.  To come to him for rest.  To abide in his word.  To hear his voice and follow him.  Faith comes by hearing his word, and that faith, itself, a gift from him, by his Spirit.

He tells us, also, to receive the blessed Sacrament.  “Do this,” he says, “in remembrance of me.”  Not so much a command but a gracious invitation, for these, his body and blood, are given and shed for you.  And here, my dear brothers and sisters, the wine he provides is far greater than that of Cana.  It is the best wine, saved for you, flowing freely, and forgiving your sins.

And thus he receives you, again and again, like the prodigal son.  Thus he reconciles you to himself, again and again, as part of his beloved bride.  Thus he gives you life, abundant life, rooted in him and bearing the fruits of faith – love for God, and love for neighbor.

“Do whatever he tells you,” Mary tells them, and for us, forgiven in Christ our true bridegroom, it’s a joy so to do.

Monday, January 06, 2025

Sermon - Christmas 2 - Luke 2:40-52

 


Maybe you have a scrapbook or a photo album with memories of your children as they grew up (or maybe your parents have them of you).  These days, it seems like a lot of our memories are hosted digitally on social media services.  But it’s always nice to walk back down memory lane and wonder at how the years fly by, and oh, how much our children have grown.

The New Testament doesn’t present us with Jesus’ baby book, however, or serve as a biography of Jesus with all the milestones in his life for us to ponder. 

Instead, today we have that one precious story of Jesus’ life as a child of 12 years old, the only episode Scripture details about his life between the visit of the Wise men and the beginning of his public ministry at age 30.  Perhaps this, in itself, teaches us something – that Jesus holy work of perfect living didn’t require anything noteworthy or special for many years.  That he simply did what he was given to do.  He grew.  He learned.  He was an obedient son to his parents.  We assume he followed in his father Joseph’s business as a carpenter and did all the other usual things a Jewish young man would do.  And we might take note and model our lives after that – a godly life is fulfilled simply in our God-given vocations.

And then we also see, from Luke, that Jesus’ family was religiously observant.  They participated every year in the Jewish Passover feast, and took the trip down from Nazareth to Jerusalem, according to the custom.  It’s not exactly the same thing as being regular church-goers, but there’s some similarity here.  The whole family, it seems, quietly and simply did what their faith asked of them.  It was just a matter of course. 

The real action begins when the feast is over, and the family heads home.  Scholars believe such journeys were often made by larger extended families as a group, partly for safety in numbers.  And so it wouldn’t have been too unusual for Mary and Joseph to lose track of Jesus for a short time.  But after about a day’s journey, they notice they haven’t seen him, and their distress and anxiety grow as they begin searching for him in the traveling group.  He was nowhere to be found!  And so back to Jerusalem they went, ever more frantic to find their beloved son.

And when they do, it’s sort of anti-climactic.  He’s just there, sitting in the temple, of course.  He’s just been in his Father’s house, visiting with the teachers, probably both learning from them and teaching them a thing or two.  Mary gently berates him, and Jesus kindly answers her, “Why were you looking for me?  Didn’t you know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

As St. Luke records everything so carefully, here again we have more of Jesus’ story that likely came from the treasures of Mary’s heart.  She pondered these things deeply, and Luke, inspired by the Holy Spirit, invites us to do the same.  What exactly is the meaning of all this?  What does Jesus teach us with his staying behind and his answer to his mother?  What does it mean that he bust be in the Father’s house?

On one level, it’s a confession of his identity as the Son of God.  Yes, he is also the son of Joseph, as even Luke here refers to Mary and Joseph as “his parents”.  But we’ve read the back-story and we know he is conceived by the Holy Spirit.  We’ve also read John’s Gospel and we know he’s the eternal Word that was with God, now made flesh and dwelling among us. 

And yes, again, by example, we can say Jesus is teaching us something here about the centrality of God’s house in our lives.  We, too, ought to be in our Father’s house.  We, too, ought to be engaged in the study of his word, that we, too, might grow in wisdom and stature.  That this passage comes at the beginning of a new year might serve us as a reminder to re-commit to studying the Scriptures this year.  We have so many opportunities here at Messiah, and as your pastor, of course, I invite you to join one or more of our Bible studies, in addition to your own private reading and study of Scripture.  Notice even Jesus made use of the teachers of God’s word, however…

And one more point of comparison we might draw is that of anxious Mary – looking for Jesus.  I’m reminded of the cartoon with the missionaries at the front door asking the woman, “have you found Jesus?”  And on the other side of the frame we can see his robe and sandals peeking out as he stands behind the window curtains.  Jesus is not lost.  We don’t need to find him.  Rather, we are lost, and he finds us.  Mary shouldn’t have worried.  Jesus answer to her gives the same sense, “why were you looking for me?”  Didn’t you know?  Wasn’t it obvious?  He’s the one in control, and we are the ones so often frantically searching about, if not for him, then for answers and for solutions to all our lives problems, and to the consequences of sin in our world.  But Jesus calmly goes about his business.

And then, of course, there’s the deeper theological meaning of the Temple.  The house of God.  Really, this is Jesus’ house, too.  Last week we heard a little about the glory of God dwelling there in the Old Testament times, and then being revoked.  But that in the person of Jesus, God returns to his temple, the glory of God comes home.  Of course Jesus had to be in his Father’s house.  Of course he’s always about his Father’s business.

But it wouldn’t always be so peaceful.  At least once, and maybe twice, he cleansed the temple, turning over tables, making a whip, driving out man and animal.  His Father’s house is to be a house of prayer, not a den of thieves.  But we take the good things of God and misuse them, don’t we?

And then, many times, Jesus would teach in the temple.  Openly and freely, he would preach the word of God to the people of God in the house of God.  So, his word goes forth from his house today – not one temple, but in pulpits all over the world, where Christ is preached for the benefit of his people.

And once, standing in the temple, Jesus would say, “Destroy this temple and I will build it again in three days.”  But he wasn’t talking about the brick and mortar on that occasion, was he?  He was referring to his own body, his own life, which would soon be laid down as the sacrifice to end them all.  Thus the temple curtain was torn in two, access to God was no longer mediated through the priesthood of Levi, but through the priesthood of Christ, and by the sacrifice of God’s own Son. 

And soon that temple would be torn down, not one stone left upon another.  But the word of the Lord endures forever.  And the salvation of Christ is freely offered to all.  And the work of the Father is accomplished by the Son and proclaimed with the power of the Spirit to all nations, the Father’s business continuing to the very ends of the earth.

Did Mary know all this?  Surely some of it.  She pondered all of it in her heart.  She lived to see the words of Simeon fulfilled, the sword that pierced her heart at the cross.  But also to see the temple of Christ’s body rebuilt in his resurrection. 

And the boy Jesus, who grew to the man Jesus, who died as our substitute and rose as our firstborn of the dead elder brother, has also gone before us into heaven.  And one day he will bring us there, too.  He has done all things well, for us, on our behalf.  And he has even greater things in store for us in the heavenly dwelling of God.  There, no temple is needed either, for God will dwell in our midst directly, and we with him forever.

So, Christian, be in the Father’s house.  Be about the Father’s business.  And that is this:  Hearing his word, growing in his word, receiving his gifts, as is the custom.  Come to his table this day, and lay all your worries and anxieties aside.  Receive again the forgiveness of your sins, for the sake of Christ.  For Jesus is always here, for you.