Sermon - Pentecost 19 - Matthew 20:1-16

Matthew 20:1-16
Pentecost 19
“A Very Different Kingdom”

“My kingdom is not of this world” Jesus once said. And if you had any doubt, take a look at the parables he tells about his kingdom.

Here we have another. The parable of the Workers in the Vineyard. As a story it's simple enough. Even the meaning is easy to determine. But fully appreciating the mysterious sense of Divine justice that lies underneath - this is something that takes great faith. For our Lord and Master is generous with us, and in Christ has given us more than what is fair.

The kingdom of this world is a kingdom of rules and laws. We live under them and know them well. You stand in line at the grocery store and get a ticket at the deli counter. First come, first served. When you get to a stop sign, the person there first has the right of way. And when you do your job, you expect every two weeks or so, for that little piece of paper you can take to the bank. It's the way the world works – you earn something, it's yours. Those are the kinds of rules we live by every day.

From the earliest child who utters those words, “hey, no fair!” to the citizen pursuing legal recourse in the courts of law – we have a keen sense of what is fair and what is not – especially when we feel we are bearing the brunt of injustice.

“It's not fair” we say, when a neighbor sins against us, and we are right. But Father always told us, “life isn't fair”. Is Jesus saying the same thing about life in his kingdom? Sometimes life treats us unfairly, people treat us unfairly, we should just toughen up and take it? Stop whining? Is that the point?

Our Heavenly Father is the Master who gives generously. The vineyard is his kingdom, the church, and we are the workers. What's important isn't so much how much or how long we work, but that we are his employees. We belong to him. He pays a wage we could never earn standing around outside his kingdom. It's really not a wage, you see, it's a gift. And while we all think we're the ones that have worked the longest and hardest, we should all see ourselves as the ones coming late and working least.

Scripture tells us what our good works are worth before God – filthy rags. No one is righteous, not one. We can't earn it, deserve it, or have it coming to us. We have incurred a debt of sin, but instead we often act as if God owes us! How foolish and arrogant. How like the sinner.

The only one whose work in the vineyard amounts to anything is the owner's own Son. In another vineyard parable, Jesus tells how the tenants mistreated the messengers and bloodied the servants, but when the owner of the vineyard sent his very son – they murdered him.

Yes the wages for the workers were won at the cross. Jesus' own precious blood, shed there for the world, worth far more than gold or silver or denarius or dollar.... he paid the price for the wages we really deserve- the wages of sin – the penalty of death.

And here's the secret of the vineyard, that really is no secret – Jesus does it all! He plants the vineyard, calls the workers, makes the fruit grow, and provides the harvest. He gives us strength for our tasks through his Spirit, wisdom to accomplish them, and a reward at the end we don't even deserve.

To which someone might say, “hey, not fair”. Not fair that he does it all, all the work of fulfilling the law, all the work of dying for sins, all the work of bringing us to faith, even, by his Spirit. In fact, our old sinful nature is always trying to take part of the credit for all this, trying to do the work, at least in part. But that's not the work we are called to do.

We are called to work, though. In this vineyard, there is the work of sowing seeds and tending vines. Teaching, preaching, showing mercy, encouraging, singing, cooking, cleaning, caring for children. What are your talents and abilities? In Christ's church there is always lots for us to do.

And outside of this church building, the church is still at work – we do what we are called to do in everyday life as service to God and neighbor. Fathers and mothers, employees, coaches, students, volunteers, whatever. Whatever God has given us to do, the Christian does in faith, and the work is done for God.

But none of it earns the reward. Not the heavenly reward, anyway. Here's another strange way of God's kingdom – the workers work for free. We do it because we've already been paid well more than we could hope to earn. Such is life in the vineyard, so is the way of his kingdom.

A very different kingdom. Where you don't earn your pay. Where you don't get what you deserve. Where God serves man. Where death brings life. Where the last are first and the first are last. And where sinners are made righteous because the righteous one took all sin. A kingdom not of this world – a kingdom not of fairness, but of grace.

All praise and thanks to the king, the Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, for calling us to faith and service. For his is the kingdom and the power and glory forever and ever. Amen.

40's

Students of scripture have long observed the significance of the number 40 - a time of testing or preparation, a sojourn of sorts, after which something good usually happens. 40 years in the wilderness, 40 days/nights of rain to start the flood, Moses life divided into three segments of 40 years, etc...

My clever wife, thinking like a mom, heard a pastor making the point about the number 40 when she realized - "Pregnancy is 40 weeks! Hey, Jesus was 40 weeks in the womb, too, huh!" Not only did she see that after the 40 "something good" happens, but my lovely Lutheran lady connected it to Christ too. What a fun insight...

Sermon - Pentecost 18 - Matthew 18:21-35, Genesis 50:15-21

Pentecost 18 – September 14th, 2008
Genesis 50:15-21 (Matthew 18:21-35)
“Forgiving in the Place of God”

If you've ever had anyone hurt you in life, you probably know what a grudge is. When you hang on to that hurt and hold it over that person who hurt you. When you bear anger for them and desire to see them suffer. Our memory is short when it comes to love, but a grudge can last a lifetime...

Joseph's brothers had hurt him. They sinned against him. They sold him as a slave, off to a foreign land, cut off from his family and everything he knew. They might as well have killed him.

But God was good to Joseph, and despite slavery, an unjust imprisonment, and against all odds, Joseph ascended almost to the throne of Egypt – second in power only to Pharaoh. His dreams and wisdom had insured Egypt would be well fed when the drought and famine came. God watched over Joseph, and blessed him beyond imagination.

So when his brothers came begging for food years later, when Egypt had much and Israel had little... Joseph tricked them into bringing the whole family to Egypt, especially his beloved father Jacob.

So far Joseph, a powerful man now, had not sought revenge against his brothers. But now that their father had died, they feared the gloves would come off. Perhaps he was holding his anger out of respect for Dad. But now dad's gone, and he'll give us what we deserve. In great fear, they sent word to Joseph with a mixture of deception about their dying father's wishes, and perhaps even genuine repentance for the wrongs they had done to their brother.
They even fell down before him in humility, asking for forgiveness.

And in a dramatic moment, Genesis concludes with this story of brotherly forgiveness and reconciliation.

Last week we heard from Jesus in Matthew 18, telling us “if your brother sins against you go and tell him...” Today our reading in Matthew continues with a parable about a servant unwilling to forgive, even after he himself is forgiven. That unmerciful servant stands in contrast to Joseph, who shows great mercy to his brothers. If the man in Jesus' parable is the example to avoid, Joseph is the example of forgiveness to follow.

But it hardly ever works out so neat and clean, does it? Life is messy, forgiveness is messy. We are not immune to grudge-bearing and miserly mercifulness. Too often we are like the unmerciful servant who wants to exact the price from his debtor, rather than Joseph who shows mercy to his brothers. Or we say we forgive but we won't forget – qualifying forgiveness in a way that Christ would never support.

There is the good example of forgiveness which shows us the model. Then there is the bad example which gives us stern warning. But then there is Jesus. And while some would make him into just another example, he is so much more than that.

Jesus, of course, is the fount and source of forgiveness. Without him, we have no forgiveness. With him, we have perfect forgiveness. Without him all we have is our outrageous debt of sin. With him – we have all the riches of God's grace. His cross and tomb and resurrection do not show us the way to act, they are the actions that win God's favor for us. When it comes to forgiveness, it's not so much “what would Jesus do” as “what DID Jesus do?”

For we are all the servant with the great debt. We are all the brothers who have offended the other. We deserve the retribution and the punishment of our Lord and Master. But the Master and Lord is merciful and kind, and he pays the debt himself, by sending his Son to suffer and die. And when we come before his throne, and beg, “have mercy on your humble servants”, he is quick to grant mercy, and more.

This forgiveness changes the heart. So where the sinful nature wants to avenge itself, the new man first seeks forgiveness. Where the Old Adam wants his own warped justice, the New Adam knows grace and acts in mercy. It couldn't be different than night and day. But it's a struggle that goes on within us, isn't it? And so we need forgiveness every day, as we ourselves struggle to trust in the promises of the gospel, and live according to it.

Not only are we the ones to ask for forgiveness, yes, but we the ones to give it on God's behalf! Joseph asks an interesting question: “Am I in the place of God?” The answer of course is no! (and yes!)

No – when it comes to God's judgment, “ vengeance is mine, says the Lord.” We are not the judge of souls or judge of faith. We are not the ones to mete out the punishments for sin, acting on our own accord to determine its consequences.
But yes! When it comes to sharing and declaring the forgiveness of Christ, we are most certainly in the place of God. For Jesus gave us this charge. When he appeared to his disciples on Easter Sunday, breathed on them and said, “receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any they are forgiven”. This is why the pastor forgives, “in the stead and by the command of” Christ. This is why the Christian consoles his brother with the promises of Christ, and forgives trespasses when others trespass against us.

So, more about forgiveness today – and as we learn from the bad example of the unmerciful servant, and the good example of Joseph, we see also the source of all forgiveness and life. Jesus Christ – the Lord and Master, who forgives his servants, and gives us, his servants, the charge to forgive others. For the forgiveness we need, we thank him. And for the hearts to forgive others, we pray his strength and Spirit.

Sermon - Pentecost 17 - Matthew 18:1-20

Pentecost 17 – September 7th, 2008
Matthew 18:1-20
“Jesus on Sin”

Today's reading really has four segments, each of which could be a sermon in itself. So as I struggled to choose a direction for our sermon today, I found myself looking for the common thread throughout this reading. And one word seems to stand out here: sin.

Whoever causes a little one to sin – it would be better for him to have a millstone around his neck and be cast into the sea.

If your eye causes you to sin – pluck it out.

The one sheep out of a hundred is lost, because of sin. And the master seeks him out.

And if your brother sins against you, go and tell him.

Sins bound on earth are bound in heaven. Sins loosed on earth are loosed in heaven.

Yes today Jesus is talking about sin. And if one thing is clear from all this, it's that sin is a big deal. It's a big deal for Jesus, and that makes it a big deal for us.

It's a serious matter. One of the things we sinners like to do is minimize the seriousness of sin. It makes us feel better to think that our sins aren't really so bad.

We minimize sin by comparing ourselves with other people, even with famous people. If they can get away with it, why can't we? If they're not so bad, then I'm ok too. Or – I'm not as bad as that person and my sins aren't as bad as her sins. But Jesus says the sinner should be concerned about his own eye, and the log there, rather than the speck in his neighbor's. In fact, if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out!

Another problem we have is that our culture has changed, and continues to change, in its views about sin. In fact, the word is hardly heard anymore in public discourse. This is just another way of minimizing sin. We hear about people's “mistakes” and “imperfections” and “character flaws” and “foibles”. But don't say the “S-word” or you'll be seen as a bible-thumping fanatic.

Someone tell Jesus about that. Jesus isn't afraid to call sin what it is, and to warn us of its grave consequences. And I mean grave as in, it leads to the grave, and worse.

For who doesn't deserve the millstone treatment? Who shouldn't be plucking out his eyes, cutting off his hands? Which of us isn't, in our sins, a lost sheep straying from the fold? The problem is, we can't swim hard enough to escape the millstone's weight. We can't find our way back to the fold precisely because we are lost. And we could cut off every member of our body involved in sin and we'd have no body left. For sinful man gets his sinful desires from the heart – and how can we live without that?

No, a close and honest and scriptural view of sin and the sinner shows us that we are in big trouble, because sin is a big deal to God, and it should be to us too. It is no small thing, even the smallest of sins disqualifies us from paradise, and earns us the death sentence.

But thanks be to God! He does not leave us in our sins.

Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd, seeks out the lost sheep. And we are all that one sheep out of 99. He comes not from the mountain but from heaven's high throne to seek and save us.

Jesus Christ is the one who takes our place when it comes to the millstone. He is cast into the depths of God's wrath for our sin, only to rise from deep, dark death on that bright Easter morning.

Jesus Christ is the one who cuts off not hand or plucks out eye, but gives his whole self – broken body and shed blood – as the sacrifice for our sins. And he gives us that same body and blood to sustain our faith so that we are never cut off from God's grace.

Yes, sin is serious business for Jesus, and so much so that he goes to the cross, scorning its shame, bears the punishment of our sins, and defeats death head-on for us.

And yet sin is still with us.

Jesus words about sin are not only about how sin is a problem for us, and how he has come to save us from it. But Jesus wants his forgiven, blood-bought people to know the consequences and take it seriously too. Forgiveness is free, yes, but it is not cheap. He paid a dear cost for our salvation. Sin is to be taken as lightly as the blood of Christ – not lightly at all!

And furthermore, he wants us to forgive each other. He wants us to apply the forgiveness he has given us to our brothers and sisters in the faith. Here we have the opportunity to forgive those who hurt and harm us – reconciling in peace for the sake of Christ. Matthew 18 should not simply be a slogan among us, but the real pattern of how God's people deal with each other's sins.

When your brother sins against you, stop talking to him? No.
When your brother sins against you, put him on your list of enemies? No. Take an ad out in the paper so everyone knows what he did? No. When he sins against you go ahead and get your revenge – do unto others as they have done unto you? Never. When sins happen, Christians seek reconciliation when possible. We seek out the sinner as Christ has sought us out. We win back the brother when possible, for the sake of Christ who has won us back from sin.

And finally, the reminder that sins forgiven (loosed) on earth are truly forgiven in heaven. When a Christian forgives another Christian, that forgiveness is real. And when a pastor forgives the repentant sinner, it's as good as if Jesus did it himself. You can take that forgiveness “to the bank”. Because that's what Jesus promises.

Yes, Jesus speaks of sin today in Matthew's Gospel, but Jesus never leaves sin as the final word. He, in fact, is the final word, the answer to and antidote for sin. He is the savior from sin. And where sin and death go together, so do forgiveness and life. And though we sinners sin daily and sin much, Jesus forgives freely and forever. Sin is a big deal. But Jesus is a bigger deal. Thanks be to God for Jesus Christ, who deals with sin for us, forever. In him your sins are forgiven, now go and sin no more! Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 16 - Matthew 16:21-28

Pentecost 16 – August 31st, 2008
Matthew 16:21-28
“The Christ Must Suffer...”


We've been reading our Gospel Lessons from Matthew for a while now. And now we've reached a turning point in this book. For the first 16 chapters or so, Jesus is busy convincing his disciples, in word and deed, that he is the Christ. Peter puts the exclamation point on it with his great confession we read last week, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God!”.

And with the ah-ha moment reached, Jesus transitions his disciples, and us, the the second great truth of the Gospel. The Christ must suffer, die, and rise on the third day. Point 1: Jesus is the Christ. Point 2: The Christ must suffer, die, and rise. Both points important for the disciples' faith, and for ours.

For like Peter, we are tempted to miss the point, either point one or more often, point two. And what a contrast for Peter. He had just made his great confession, that Jesus is the Christ. Jesus commends him, but doesn't really give him the credit. This revelation came from the Father himself. But as soon as Jesus starts with the suffering and dying talk, Peter balks. “No way, Lord, not you, never”. And Jesus harshly rebukes Peter, even calling him Satan. For such anti-Christian thoughts come from Satan, and from sinful man, but not from God.

Yes, the idea that Jesus shouldn't suffer is from Satan. He tried it before, the devil did, tried to convince Jesus not to suffer. “Just throw yourself down from the pinnacle of the temple.... you won't get hurt. The angels will protect you.” And the implication then is that all would see and recognize him as the Messiah – the easy way. No pain, no fuss. We can only wonder how many times and how many ways Satan tried to tempt Jesus to forsake the way of the cross. But even using his own disciple.... now that's low.

But Jesus knows better. He gets away from that temptation – harshly and immediately. He rebukes Peter for such a suggestion. There is no easy button for Jesus. He knows the way of God is the way of suffering, of death, and only then of life. The way of the cross and of the resurrection. “The Christ must suffer, die, and rise on the third day”.

And we follow him. Not only in life, but also in death. Not only in death, but also in resurrection. And clearly, the way of the cross means that we follow him in self-denial, and yes, even suffering. There is no other way, for the Christian. Anything else is the thoughts of man, not the thoughts of God. Suffering goes with the program. There's a cross for each of us.

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” Deny himself. Ah but when the going got tough, Peter denied Christ, so save himself. Not a shining moment either. We have our own moments. We're not always so great at carrying our crosses, and denying ourselves. But Jesus did it perfectly, of course. And though we stumble, turn back, shirk our burden and even deny him at times, he is merciful, patient, and forgiving.

Cross bearing doesn't always mean painful, torturous suffering, though it may. Ask the martyrs what it means to give up your life for your confession of faith. But most of us here will never face such a harsh reality. Still, we are called to self-denial. And this is a cross to bear. To give up our selves, that is, our old selves. To turn away from our sins, to order our lives with Christ as the head and focus. It may mean the pain of turning away from the worldly pleasures of sin. It may mean the sorrow of swallowing your pride and admitting your sins. Saying those hard words – “I was wrong”. Deny yourself. Follow him. Take up your cross.

But carrying one's cross after Jesus is also, in a sense, a burden that is light, a yoke that is easy. That's because Jesus has done the heavy-lifting. His own cross was the hardest. And it is finished.

For we do not follow a Christ who is all about glory and power and majesty and might (though he has all that). But we know the Christ who is about suffering and shame and lowly service and foot-washing and touching dead people and holding children on his lap.
A Christ who is not so distant that he can barely hear us, but a Christ who is so personal and so close to us that he becomes one of us, and remains one of us, and so stands for all of us before God. A Christ who eats with sinners and dies for sinners, and rises for sinners and feeds sinners with his body and blood – all for their blessing.

When we deny the Christ who suffered and died for us, and suppose that either we can save ourselves (like, through our good works), or that he will save us any other way other than the cross.... we might as well be Peter denying we know him. We should be rebuked for such satanic thoughts of man. Jesus is always our suffering servant, first in the kingdom because he made himself last, yes, servant of all.
He came not to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.

But when we deny ourselves, trust in and follow the original cross-bearer, and keep our eyes on him ahead of us.... Then we know the joy of giving up life to gain it, losing life to find it.

For the path he trod ahead of us also meant losing his life, only to find it again. And as we follow him, we too, even though we die, yet shall we live. Suffering and death are not the end for the people of Christ. We know that crosses lead to empty tombs – not just for Jesus, but one day for us too. And this is our hope in suffering. This is our peace in persecution. This is our joy in self-denial. This is the theology of the cross. That God's power is made perfect in weakness, suffering, even death. But that's not the end of Christ, or of us.

And so the Christ must suffer and die and rise. And so the Christian must follow – in self-denial, cross-bearing, suffering, death, and life. We follow Jesus, who has carried our burdens and gives us all good things. For he is the Christ, the son of the living God! Amen.

It was bound to happen...

Guitar Hero for Christians.

Rock on. Or don't.

Well, it's true....

Of course, we all know that God is a Packers fan.

(And Lambeau Field is heaven)

Sermon - Pentecost 14 - Matthew 15:21-28

Pentecost 14 – August 17th, 2008
Matthew 15:21-28
“Beggars All”


“We are all beggars, this is true”. Some of the last words of Martin Luther – found by his secretary on a scrap of paper the day before Luther died. We are all beggars. We come with nothing to Jesus, and he gives us everything. We can't bargain or deal, purchase or sell. We can only beg for his mercy and grace that we do not deserve in the least. Beggars, all.

She had no earthly reason to expect help from Jesus. This woman wasn't a Jew, or from Israel. She was a Canaanite. A heathen. How did she know about David? And how did she know Jesus was the “Son of David”? Did she know that was a loaded term – indicating he indeed is the Messiah? Had she heard the good news of his kingdom, even before he arrived? Perhaps so....

The Syro-Phonecian woman was a beggar. Perhaps she had money and wealth, but she didn't have what she wanted most. Her daughter was beset by a demon. And when the great teacher and miracle worker, who some even whispered might be the Messiah, when he came to her neck of the woods, she went out to find him. And she cried out, pleaded, begged for mercy.

Like her, we are unworthy to ask for anything good from the Lord. We have no pedigree but original sin. We have no works of righteousness, only works of lawlessness. We have no holiness of our own, but only a life stained by sin and destined for death. We are helpless and hopeless without Christ. Beggars.

She cries, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon”

And Jesus does something strange. He doesn't say yes. At first, he is silent.

How often do our pleas and petitions meet with silence from our Lord? Often. So we can relate. Did he hear us? Is he ignoring us? Does the silence mean “no”? Or is something else going on?

The disciples are getting tired of it already. They want Jesus to send her away – that is, they want him to give her what she asks and be done with her loud crying and begging. (Notice, the disciples are beggars too, by the way). But still, he seems to resist.
"I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."

To be clear – Jesus doesn't mean that he came as Savior of Israel only. But in his preaching and healing leading to the cross, his commission was to Israel. Only after the resurrection are all nations drawn into the kingdom. Still, a number of outsiders receive help from the Lord, even before his work is done. They would be a kind of first-fruits, a foreshadowing, of the many nations who would receive the kingdom.

The woman begs some more. She kneels down, in a show of humility. A good posture for the sinner to take before Almighty God. And if not physically, we should all bend low before God in the same humble acknowledgment of our own unworthiness.

"It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs."

“The children” are the Israelites. “The Dogs” that's what the Israelites called the Gentiles – outsiders. Dogs. Not a term of endearment. But Jesus isn't quite so harsh. He throws the woman a bone, if you will. When he calls her a dog – he uses the term for a house dog, a pet... rather than a mutt wandering the streets. A “little dog” or a “pup” might be a closer English equivalent.

And now the woman sees. Her faith, which had brought her this far – out from her home and to where Jesus was – following persistently, falling on her knees.... over against Jesus' silence and his protest, her faith begs, and begs. And she prevails upon Jesus...

Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table."

A beautiful confession of faith. One, that she is a dog – unworthy to sit with the children. Two, that he is the master. Three that he, Jesus, would grant her this request out of his mercy. And so he does.

And here's the mystery. He meant to all along. Why put her through all this before he grants the request? Why ignore her, put her off,
make her think he might say no?

Was it to strengthen her faith? Was it an exercise? Was it to teach us persistence in our prayers and petitions? Or was it to give her also the blessing of an opportunity to show her faith – to make a confession?

So often in our lives, we call on the Lord for help and hear silence. We are tempted to think he doesn't hear, or doesn't care. But “behind a frowning countenance, faith sees a smiling face”.

Faith holds God to his word of promise. Martin Luther said it well:

She catches the Lord Christ with His own Words. Yes, still more, with the rights of a dog she gains the rights of a child. Now where will he go, the dear Jesus? He has caught Himself and must help her. But know this well, He loves to be caught in this way. If we only had the skill of this woman to catch God in His own judgment and say: 'Yes, Lord, it is true, I am a sinner and not worthy of Thy grace, but you have promised forgiveness and didst not come to call the righteous, but, like St. Paul says, 1 Timothy 1:15, 'to save sinners.' Behold, the Lord must then through His own judgment, have mercy on us.
And one more thought. As we are all beggars, so we are all the dogs waiting for crumbs from the table. But as we receive faith, so we become children. And so also, share the food with others.

What child hasn't fed the family dog from the table – accidentally, and even with glee. So does the Christian share the Gospel. Accidentally, through works of love and service, by witnessing to the faith that drives us. Inadvertently, as we go about our callings in the world, doing all that we do for the Lord. Or even pointedly, as we have the opportunity to share the love of Christ in words, even the Gospel. Or else by supporting the work of the church with our time, talents, and treasures. Yes, in many ways, we throw the crumbs of the Gospel to those hungering for it. Just as we have received, so we generously give.

For what precious food this is! That even the crumbs are worth begging for. But he gives us so much more. He gives a lavish feast – a full course meal. He feeds us with his word, and even literally feeds us with his own body and blood. Not food we deserve, but the food of faith which sustains and strengthens us and delivers us forgiveness, life and salvation.

Oh, to be a beggar. Oh to be fed from the Master's table. Oh to feast on the fine food he gives. Faith begs, and faith receives, from Jesus Christ our Lord and merciful Master. Amen.

That's PASTOR Sumo to you!

Some fun at the church picnic. Thanks for the pictures, Brittany!

Sermon - Pentecost 13 - Matthew 14:22-33

Pentecost 13 – August 10th, 2008
Matthew 14:22-33
"Walking on Water - For You"

Jesus walking on the water. Here's one of those stories we learned about in Sunday School, and maybe remember those little felt figurine picture boards. Many people take it very simply to be an instance of Jesus doing a miracle to show his great power. And it is that, but more. As I've often said, everything Jesus does, he does for us, his people. So how does his walking on water have anything to do with you?

Well, like all his miracles, this one is a sign. The disciples read the sign correctly – it points to who he is. No one before or since has walked on water. No one demonstrates this command over nature. Truly, he is the Son of God. Miracles like this verify Jesus' identity. And if he is powerful enough to do healings and to command nature and turn a few loaves and fish into a feast for thousands.... then certainly he is powerful enough to forgive my sins and grant me eternal life.

But there is so much more here. Take, for instance, the disciples' superstitious reaction when they see the Lord's unusual approach. Thinking he was a ghost, they were filled with fear. But Jesus, true to form, says, “fear not”. And gives them a reason not to fear, “for it is I”. Jesus knows the fears of sinful men and always calms them. He knows that fear and doubt are the opposite of faith, and he wants us to calmly trust in him – even when what our eyes see doesn't make sense.

For his part, Peter gets a mixed review. He steps out of the boat in great faith. He shows his trust in Jesus against the odds and in the face of nature's laws. He responds to the powerful word of the almighty God – one little word - “come!”. And he takes his walk on the waves. So far so good. But then Peter does exactly what Jesus said not to do – he fears. He looks at the wind and wave, and realizes somehow, “hey, I'm walking on water! Humans can't do that!” And fear takes hold.

And isn't Peter just like us? One minute we are ready to step out in faith, the next minute we are beset again by fear. One moment we act like a selfless saint, the next we are surely a sinner again. The Christian life is not such an easy switch from absolutely outward wickedness to a perfected life triumphant over sin – at least not in how we see ourselves act. We are alternately faithful and fearful, believing and doubting. The struggle goes on. When our attention is fixed on Jesus, we are much better off. Only when we focus on the wind and wave – the troubles and worries of life – do we begin to sink.

But like for Peter, the good news is that Jesus comes to the rescue. When in his weakness, Peter begins to sink, Jesus immediately reaches out and rescues him. So too for us. Jesus doesn't let us flounder in sin and unbelief, but stands ready with his strong hand to snatch us from disaster. Where we go back and forth between faith and fear, he is always faithful.

His unlikely journey for us is even more amazing than a stroll across the sea. He walks the way of the cross. He treads the path of death. He crosses that river ahead of us, for us, only to return in triumph. For just as men don't walk on water, mere men don't live after death. And just as Jesus included Peter in the miracle, so too does he give us a part in his greatest miracle. We too will rise from the dead.

In a sense, we already have. By the almighty power of his word he has called us from the living death of original sin to the new life of faith beginning at our baptism. Christians are already living the eternal life promised by God. And one day even our bodies will catch up to this reality, in a resurrection like Christ's. This hope gives us calm in the midst of fear, and peace even in the face of death.

I mentioned how Jesus' command over nature here showed his true identity as the Son of God. And perhaps here a word about creation is in order. It's a common mistake for people today - to fall for the lies of evolutionary thinking, which supposes that we are here by accident, without a creator.

Christians know that, “in the beginning God created the heavens and the earth”. But we too are tempted by the ever-present evolutionary propaganda. For the Scriptures are clear not only who made it, but also how. The Lord by his word, created everything that is in six days, and rested on the seventh. And John's Gospel reminds us that Jesus, as the living Word of God, had a hand in it. “Through him all things were made”. In other words, Jesus is Lord of creation.

Many of us want to find a middle ground, where science is right, and the Bible is right – just each in their own way. This won't do either. It doesn't answer the question of how death got here – which Genesis makes clear – death is a result of sin, and doesn't belong in creation. Humans are not the byproduct of evolutionary “survival of the fittest”, but instead, we are the crown of God's creation, made in his own image. And Jesus comes, in part, to restore that creation that our sin had broken.

He who created us, has also re-created us. He who commands nature, even walks on the water, can and will command us to rise from death on the last day. He who calls Peter to walk amidst the waves, calls us to trust him as well, for he will not fail us either. His death and resurrection accomplish our salvation, bring us new life and the promise of our own resurrection.

And like the disciples who all witnessed these events on the sea, we too are drawn to respond in faith and worship. We must confess with them, “Truly, you are the Son of God”. And truly, he walked on water, and does everything, for you and me. Amen.

Barna Calling

I just got done with a phone survey from the ubiquitous Barna Research Group, in which I found great difficulty answering many of the questions. The premise of the questions threw me, that pastors could measure or classify people as "spiritually healthy" or "spiritually mature".

One went something like this:

"If someone were to create a comprehensive spiritual maturity diagnostic tool, what percentage of your congregation do you expect would be seen as spiritually healthy or mature disicples?"

Wha-huh?

She wanted to know which passages we use to base our understanding of how to help people become "spiritually mature". So I pointed to Romans 3, Matthew 28 and Ephesians 2:8-9.

"Any others?"

"Yeah. Lots. But that's all I can think of off the top of my head."

This could have been a very long survey.

All this measuring, labeling, classifying, diagnosing, buzz-wording..... blech.

"What, in your opinion, is the reason more people are not spiritually mature?"

So I said, "Sin."

"That's all? Nothing else?"

"That's it."

Then they asked me how much oru church budget is and how much money I make, and how long I've been here, and what race/ethnicity we are... Oh, and what I read and what denomination we are.

I feel like in some way I've contributed to the next church-marketing strategy fad. It's kind of an icky feeling.....

Another Laughable "Scientific" Theory

Or should I call it "grasping at straws"? If life didn't come from God, then maybe it came from space aliens. Or maybe it came from diamonds! Yeah, that's gotta be it. After all, diamonds are pretty. And supermodels are pretty. So maybe that's where they came from. Millions of years ago, of course.

Sermon - Pentecost 11 - Matthew 13:44-52

Pentecost 11 – July 27th, 2008
Matthew 13:44-52



Your house is burning down and you have just minutes to escape. What do you take with you? What's your most valuable possession?
Your family? Ok, let's assume they make it out safe. What one thing would you take? A wedding album? A piece of jewelry? Maybe your computer or some family heirloom. Something irreplaceable right? Something that might not be worth a lot of money, but to you, is worth saving more than all those other things.

Today we conclude a series of parables from Matthew 13. Today we hear Jesus talking treasure. The treasure buried in the field and the pearl of great price. The kingdom of heaven is like these, he says. But what does he mean? Let's take some time this morning and consider “valued treasures”.

Well I hope I got you thinking for a moment before about what you truly value. And in a crisis situation, perhaps your true values become more clear. First make sure your family is safe. Then your own life. Then worry about what can't be replaced, and then what can. But many of these valuable things and people we take for granted until they are threatened. In normal life, we tend not to think about what's most important.

What's most important, what's most valuable, what's the best and brightest treasure for the Christian? The Gospel, of course! The good news of Jesus and what he has done for us! This is our great treasure. Or you could say, Jesus himself. Or our faith in him. Or eternal salvation. It all goes together really. But lest we take this parable too lightly, and end this sermon too quickly. Let's think about that a little more.

How often do we act like the man in the parable? Selling all we have to obtain (or maintain) the kingdom? Do God and faith and church and the Scriptures really come first for us? Or do we become distracted and complacent, do we forget the treasure before us always? Are we mindful of our baptism, and the daily forgiveness it brings? Do we appreciate that each breath we draw is a precious gift we don't deserve in the least, and that even though our sins do deserve death that God in Christ has promised us eternal life?

Oh, but there's a sale at the mall! There's a big deadline at work. My kids have a soccer game and a birthday party. And I need to see the season premiere. And we have a busy weekend planned and company's coming over and boy gas is expensive and did you see how much a pound of meat costs now and yep there's that doctor's appointment and....

Where's your treasure? What's important? In the parable, the man sells everything else to obtain the kingdom. That doesn't mean that Jesus is telling us to do the same. Family and Work and Possessions and Reputation are all good gifts of God. They have a proper place and role in the life of God's people.

But they're not the true treasure. Martin Luther said it well, “Take they our life, goods, fame, child and wife. Let these all be gone, they yet have nothing won. The kingdom ours remaineth!”

Let's hope it doesn't take a crisis for us to see the treasure. But the beauty of the treasure is that it shines brightest when we need it most. I recall standing in the room of a dying man of faith. And I was privileged to observe as he said his farewells to his loved ones. He said all the things you might expect – expressing his love for each one, giving words of advice. But the most poignant moment came when he told them all, “keep the faith!” For certainly, in his last hour, he knew where the treasure was. He could see what was most important.

Paul says the same in our reading from Romans today. Nothing can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ – not trouble, hardship, nakedness, danger or sword. Not angels or demons, height nor depth nor anything else in all of creation – not even life or death. Such a great treasure it is.

And while many have read these parables and said, “gee, I could do a better job of treasuring the kingdom” there is perhaps more to it than that. In the parables Jesus has been telling, he is the main character. The farmer who sows the seed. The fisherman who casts the net. We could even see him as the man who sells his possessions for the treasure in the field, or the merchant who does the same for the pearl.

For certainly, Jesus gave his all. He gave his life. The one man who never deserved death, who had no wages of his own sin, died in our place on a Roman cross. He was tried like a criminal though he had no crime. He was found guilty who had no guilt. He was put to death like a common thief and buried like any other dead man.

He gave more than just his physical life. He endured shame and ridicule. He was humiliated and tortured. They even divided his garments among them. But worst of all, he suffered the wrath of God for the sins of all mankind. All the punishments of hell and damnation were laid on him, the one who took our place. Yes, Jesus gave his all.

But why? Our catechism puts it this way, “He has purchased and won me from sin, death, and hell, not with gold or silver, but with his holy precious blood and his innocent suffering and death, that I may be his own, live under him in his kingdom and serve him in everlasting righteousness innocence and blessedness”

He gave it all – to purchase us. You see, if Jesus is the man buying the field or the pearl, then that makes us – you and me – the treasure! Such is the kingdom of heaven.

We love him for he first loved us. We serve him for he first served us. We treasure him, for he has treasured us – valued us – put us before himself.

And he still gives us his riches. Sure there's the earthly wealth we enjoy – good gifts from God to be sure, but not the best. In the words of absolution, we hear his own priceless forgiveness. At the altar, we receive his own body and blood and the riches of his grace are for us again. In the font he pours out, literally, life and spirit and grace – not just then but in a daily flood of blessings.

This is the richness of the Gospel, the treasure of our faith. That Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior, treasures you. And nothing can take that away, nothing can make that irrelevant. Nothing can tarnish the treasure trove of blessings that are ours in Jesus Christ.

The Joker

I just saw the new Batman movie, "The Dark Knight". Like every reviewer I have seen, I thought the movie was good. But what impressed me most about the movie was the character of the Joker. I suppose it was a combination of the character himself, the writing in this movie and the performance by Heath Ledger that combined to make him an excellent villain.

Of course the movie was meant to raise questions of morality and of what really is good or evil. The best movies are not just a series of explosions but also lend to these kinds of philosophical... yes, even, theological questions. And with the Joker I think they were tapping into a depiction of the ultimate villain - Satan himself.

Notice that the Joker wasn't so much out for his own gain, but to bring down good people - to make them like him. He puts them into situations with great temptation to do wrong. (Interesting, too, is how the movie treats man's response to such temptation - sometimes giving in, sometimes rising to conquer it).

Also - though he repeatedly claimed to be a "man of his word", he was full of deceipt and did, in fact, lie (for instance, there were two stories about how he got his scars...). Compare this with the Father of Lies, who often uses a little truth to support his own purposes.

Even the whole clown persona of the Joker - an expression of something good gone terribly wrong - finds a paralell in the Devil who was once an angel of light. The sick smile is not from true joy but from blasphemous laughter at God and good.

Of course, the Joker's origins are shrouded in mystery. He simply appears on the scene without a history or reason. So too Satan, who simply appears in the Garden without explanation.

The Joker begins with a promise to serve and work for the crime bosses, but then "takes over" the entire city. So our enemy makes many promises, but what he really wants is control. And to a large extent, the "Prince of This World" has gotten it.

Add to that the Joker's resilience, conniving genius, and manipulative powers - and the picture of evil is really quite exquisite.

Of course, there are various Christ figures in the movie too - Batman being most obvious. Actually, there have been many other movies with better Christ figures. But I haven't seen this good of a villain in quite a while.

Sermon - Pentecost 10 - Matthew 13:24-30,36-43

Pentecost 10 – July 20th, 2008
Matthew 13:24-30,36-43
"Weeds!"



I hate dandelions. If you have a lawn, you almost certainly have them. They grow in the little cracks and nooks where grass won't. And they will boldly take up residence right smack in the middle of your lawn. I have a special tool for pulling them up... to make sure I get the root and all. I have my kids help me go on “dandelion hunts”. And in the spring when you can see the yellow take over the median strips here in town, I just cringe. Weeds. What an unsightly, bothersome bunch of things.

For the ancient people depending on agriculture, and even for modern farmers – weeds are still a problem. More than just an unsightly nuisance, weeds cost the farmer. They cut down on productivity. They choke the crops you want to grow. They are invaders that don't belong in the field – and so something must be done about them!

Jesus has much to teach in his parable of the weeds. Like all parables of Jesus, the earthly story leads us into the heavenly meaning. For Jesus isn't really talking about weeds and farmers and harvests. He's talking about life in the kingdom – how to understand what we see, and what we can expect in the future.

We just heard, last week, the parable of the sower – in which the seed, or the word of God, is cast onto all sorts of soil – hard, rocky, thorny, and good. And so we saw that God's word is rejected by many for a variety of reasons, but that when it hits that good soil, when it is received in faith, it produces an abundant harvest.

As soon as Jesus finishes explaining that parable, he tells this one, about the weeds. And there are some common elements. For one, the seed stands, here too, for the word of God. And the wheat, the good crop of those seeds, for those people of faith who have heard the Gospel and believe in Jesus Christ. The sons of the kingdom. Great. So what about the weeds?

They are sown by the enemy. And this can only be the Devil himself. Yes, the Old Satanic Foe, the Father of Lies. He comes with a different seed – a different word. And he sows it into every little nook and cranny he can. He sows false teachings. He sows troubles and persecution. He sows doubt and temptation. He generally causes whatever mischief, trouble and grief he thinks he can get away with.

And those who are born of his seed are the weeds. The faithless, the ungodly, the evil ones. Those who reject the Gospel and the work of Christ for them. And thus, they have no place in the kingdom.

Now, knowing the farmer is wise and good, naturally the servants wonder, “why is he tolerating all these weeds?” And it's a similar question asked by God's people throughout the ages. Why did God do it this way? Why didn't he do it another way? Why doesn't he do it my way? Why do the wicked prosper? Why do bad things happen to good people? Is God really just? Is he really all-powerful and all loving? Can you really believe what he says?

Life in this field can be chaotic. But Jesus is the wise farmer. He knows what he's doing. In the parable, the farmer explains that he doesn't want to endanger the good crops when he pulls the weeds, but that he'll sort it all out at harvest time. Our Lord knows what's what and who's who. And he has a plan for dealing with the weeds.

There will be a day of harvest. But it's in the future. All of our readings today have that forward-looking angle. In Isaiah, the Lord who is the First and the Last declares what is to come. And in Romans, Paul reminds us that the sufferings of this present time aren't worth comparing to the glory to be revealed. In other words, God makes it clear that with him, in Christ, there is hope for the future. No matter how full of weeds and thorns the ground around you. He will sort it all out in the end.

That was his promise, long ago, when the enemy first came to sow his disastrous seed in the Garden. Yes, after Eve and Adam believed that false word and trusted the enemy, after they ate the forbidden fruit, God came to the garden to sort it out. And he told Adam that thorns would infest the ground – an outward sign of the corruption of creation that Adam's sin had brought. Life would be tough. Weeds were a-coming.

But before God even got that far, he already promised a Savior. The seed of the woman, which would crush the head of the serpent. That seed is the Living Word, the Son of Man and the Son of God, Jesus Christ.

Jesus, who, in the wilderness, didn't fall for the deceptive seed of the Devil, but set him straight by correctly applying the word. Jesus, who spread the seed of his Gospel to all sorts of people – turning weeds into wheat and bringing a harvest of faith where there was none.

Yes, Jesus, who wore a crown of thorns as he completed the work of salvation. Who died on the tree of the cross to graft us into himself the True Vine, and make us thrive, connected to him forever.

The Lord who has done all this - for you - certainly can handle the weeds. So don't think that he's forgotten you – when the prickly weeds invade your little corner of the field. Remember he has a plan, and he will bring in his harvest in due time.

And don't think it's your job to pluck the weeds out. The Lord, the farmer, is the judge of what plant are for saving and what plants are for casting into the fire. He will send his angels to sort the good from the bad.

The parable of the weeds reminds us that in the kingdom of God – things don't always look perfect. There are liars and troublemakers and there is discord and sometimes disaster. But the farmer is wise, and patient, and knows his plan. And he will reap a harvest in the end, sorting it all out.

So trust the Lord – trust him to forgive your sins, trust him that you would grow in the field of his kingdom, nourished by the word, thriving under the Son. Trust that the Spirit will strengthen you in faith and holy living. And don't fear the weeds – the lies of Satan, or the fruits thereof. For the harvest is coming, and with it, great joy for us and all the people of Jesus Christ.

More Pics from the 25th Party

Check out the photos of the event.

Some Fun with Pastor Poppe

Here are some of the photos we showed at Pastor Poppe's 25th anniversary celebration. To get the full effect of all this, you had to be there, of course. But you get the idea with most of them....

Issues Etc. Interview

I have been asked to be on Issues Etc. today to talk about my recent Higher Things article, "Sports Obsessions". I'll be on around 3:30 p.m.

You can listen live or podcast later!

The New Issues Etc.

Some of you real life people I know who also happen to read this blog have asked about the radio program "Issues Etc.". I highly encourage, endorse, and certify as well worth your time a visit to THIS LINK. You won't be disappointed!

Sermon - Pentecost 8 - Matthew 11:25-30

Pentecost 8 – July 6th, 2008
Matthew 11:25-30
"Rest in Christ"

Summer, for many people, is a favorite time of year. For kids, its the break from school and homework. For many families, it's a chance to take a vacation together – play, relax, and get some much needed rest. The lazy days of summer, some call them. And here we are in mid-summer ourselves, with a beautiful passage from Jesus about rest for the weary laborer.

It sounds so good, doesn't it? This invitation of Jesus? It's a universal invitation, to be sure. He was not just speaking to the people who heard him, but surely also to us and to all people who would ever be. Come to me ALL who are weary, and I will give you rest. Ahh... relaxation. Jesus is giving us a vacation. Or is there more to it?

Come you who are weary and burdened, he says. And you know he's not just being literal. Being tired and sore from hard physical labor is one thing. But the weariness and burdens Jesus comes to relieve are much more tiring and heavy. They are the spiritual burdens we all carry.

You've probably got one yourself. Maybe a few. What are you carrying around today? What's your burden? Is it trouble with your spouse? Stress at work? Struggling to pay the bills and put ever-more-expensive food on the table? Are you carrying a hurt or pain so deep that few even know of it? Or is life for you just a series of fires that break out, and you weary of running from one to the next?

Are you struggling with your health? The old bones are getting a little creaky and things don't work like they used to? Maybe it's someone you love that is struggling, but you still bear the burden.

Or maybe your burden is death itself – your own, staring you in the face, closer with each breath. Or perhaps someone dear to you has gone – and your burden is living each day without their company.

Or maybe your burdens are some combination of these – but I can be fairly certain – burdened you are. We all are. We all grow weary. We all need rest.

Jesus comes with a promise today that makes our spirits yearn to hear more. Come to me... I will give you rest.
Really? If that's true, Jesus, then how come we still have so many burdens? How come we are still so weary? Most of us came to you a long time ago- we've been following you faithfully. And still we have all these – burdens. We are weighed down, and yet you promise us rest? What gives?

Ah but what does Jesus promise? That we will have no more troubles or cares with him on our side? That He is the magic bullet to solve all our problems and make us entirely happy? No. Not now anyway. But he does promise rest... for your souls.

And as we take his yoke on, and learn from him, we see that rest for our souls is far better than any other kind of rest. Stress relief – financial solvency – peace and quiet – these kinds of earthly rest may be good, but how long can they last? What good does it do when the next problem comes along?

But rest for the soul... that's eternal rest. That's the rest that only Christ can give. Yet it's that rest that God has been giving since the beginning. Already on the 7th day – when God had done all the work of creation, he rested. The Sabbath.

Jesus Christ, after finishing all the work of our salvation, after carrying the burden of our sins, after laboring under the yoke of God's wrath on the cross, when it was finished and he even gave his very life – he rested in the tomb. When the Passover Sabbath began it was Friday evening. And shortly after that Sabbath rest Jesus rose again – now in exalted form – victorious over death and hell for us all.

Because of his work, we have rest. Because he carried the burden of our sin, our souls are relieved. The burden and yoke that he offers us – the one that is easy and light – is his own righteousness. It's the life of faith, trusting in him. It's knowing that Christ our savior has done it all. It's freedom from the demands and commands of the law – freedom to live for God and do good works out of joy and love, rather than obligation or fear.

Each time our sins are forgiven, we are at rest. That's what the whole idea of Sabbath is really about, you see, rest for our souls. It's not about taking a day off from your job or trying not to do too much work around the house. Oh the legalisms some have invented to make sure no work is done on the Sabbath! But the real purpose of Sabbath is, of course, the spiritual one. Finding that rest which is Jesus Christ alone.
Does that still leave us with life's labors? For now, it may. Christ doesn't promise immediate rest from all our problems and sorrows. But he does promise to be with us through them, and to work for our good through them. He knows our weaknesses. He's walked our walk, he's taken our flesh. And he's still there for us. So bring your burdens to him in prayer, and know that he hears you.

But that's not all. There is a rest – an eternal rest – which is also our inheritance. While in this life we still carry the burdens of life in a sinful world, one day the new heaven and earth will come. One day our bodies will rise from death in glory, like Christ's own resurrected body. And the picture God paints of life for his people then – is truly one of rest. No more tears. No more hunger or thirst. No more pain. Just an eternal, perfect, communion with Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We await the fulfillment of these promises on that day. And even if we die before its arrival, we still rest in peace.

For we rest in Christ. Blessed are the dead who die in Christ, Scripture says, for they rest from their labors. And blessed are we who are weary of sin and its consequences, for we have the living, in-the-flesh Sabbath-rest, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.