Sermon - Matthew 5:21-26 - Lent Midweek 4

Matthew 5:21-26
Lent Midweek 4
March 30th, 2011
“Anger”

So far we've touched on the deadly sins of Pride, Covetousness, and Lust. And we've seen how these sins of thought are, indeed, deadly. And how the only treatment for such heart disease is the antidote of the Gospel – that Jesus Christ, our loving Savior, gave his life for us. He forgives and takes away deadly sin, and gives us his righteousness and life.

Today, our sin is Anger. And the Bible has much to say about anger. For starters, it is one of those sins of thought that bear just as much guilt as sins of deed. Jesus says as much in our reading from Matthew 5. Anger, he teaches, is a kind of murder committed in the heart. And like other thought-sins, it often leads to word-and-deed sins. Anger is a motivation for all kinds of cruelty, violence, and vengeance.

A survey of the many scriptural passages about anger will lead us to some other noteworthy conclusions about this deadly sin. But perhaps first a caveat: not all anger is sin.

Ecclesiastes tells us there's a time to love and a time to hate. Proverbs 15 commends the man who is slow to anger. James 1 tells us to be slow to anger. And Ephesians 4 teaches us to be “angry and do not sin”. There is such thing as righteous anger. A reaction of outrage or indignation at sin or evil. Even Jesus Christ became angry with the moneychangers in the temple.

But be careful. This can all too easily become an excuse for our sinful anger. It's tempting for us to want to justify all our anger. And even if we are rightly angry over some injustice, that doesn't free us to act on our anger. Proverbs 29 says, “A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back.” Ephesians 4 warns us to “give no opportunity to the Devil”.

Nevertheless, more often than not our anger is NOT righteous. Almost always, in fact. It is tainted by sin, steeped in sin, forged in the sinful heart.
In this sense, we don't have an “anger management problem”, we have a sin problem. And God's Holy Word calls us to repent!

For who are you, after all, to be angry? Think about it. Most of our anger comes when someone offends us in some way. They say something or do something that causes us to react. An unkind word. A thoughtless inconsideration. Who do they think they are? Don't they know who I am? What nerve that person has! We feel threatened, we feel attacked, and anger whispers, even shouts in our heart, “FIGHT BACK! Don't stand there and take this!”

Jesus says, turn the other check. Anger says, hit back and hit harder! Jesus says pray for your enemies. Anger says, get them, they deserve it! Jesus says anyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment, but anger doesn't care about that. It's too busy being angry at the brother.

When our anger builds within us, and erupts in explosion, we often regret it. When it smolders and festers, it often grows into bitterness. When we carry those grudges, they only weigh us down with hot hatred, amplified by time and the twisted things we tell ourselves.

And so it goes, for us sinners. We don't get our way, someone does something we don't like, and our old nature throws its tantrum. Are we totally beyond help? Are we liable to the judgment fires that burn hotter than our rage and fury?

God could be, and should be righteously angry over our sin. God hates sin, and directs his holy anger at sin – and yes – sinners. In the end, it's not people's sins that will be thrown into hell, but the sinners themselves. And God is totally justified in doing so. In fact, he's the only one whose anger is ever entirely righteous. He has a right to be angry, and yes, even angry with you, and me.

But he is not.

God's anger has been put away, in Christ. God's cup of wrath that would hang over our head like a sword of Damocles, has instead been poured out on Christ. That's what the cross was all about. God punishing sin.

Christ became sin, and God hated him there. Despised him. Turned his back on him. “Why have you forsaken me?” Jesus cried in anguish. But he knew why. Because of your sin, and mine. Because of your hating, angry, spiteful, quarrelsome nature and thoughts and words. Because that person crossed you and you just can't let it go. Because someone pushes your buttons and you snap. Jesus died for all that angry sin – and more.

That's the cup that Jesus drank, that he wanted to pass from him, but “not my will but yours, Father”.

And now, the sun has gone down on his anger. Jesus is raised from the dead by the approving Heavenly Father. And the frown of Friday is turned upside down in Easter joy. But not just for Jesus – for you, too.

On that list of 7 sins remember each sin had a corresponding virtue. And the opposite of Anger is Kindness. That's how God is disposed to us, now, in Christ. The Hebrew word, “Hesed” is often translated, “loving-kindness”. It gets at that same thing. God's not just neutral to you now. He's not just “ok” with you. He loves you. He shows you kindness. The Lord makes his face to shine upon you – in Christ.

He sees you through Christ. He says of you what he says of Christ, “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well-pleased”. There's not a whiff of anger left, only unfathomable, indescribable, eternal love.

Matthew 5 even teaches us to be concerned with those who are angry at us – who have something against us! Go and be reconciled with your brother. Do what is right. Ask for forgiveness. Give them no reason to be angry with you. And do it soon! Leave your gift at the altar! This Christian concern is even more important than our outward religious duties. It is yet another way for us to love our neighbor.

The next time you struggle with anger, perhaps it will help to check yourself. Remember the scriptural warnings. Speak a kind word instead. And repent. For God's anger, that you and I richly deserve, is put away in Christ. In his loving-kindess, we love one another – even those who wrong us. In Jesus' Name. Amen.

Sermon - Luke 11:14-26 - Lent 3

Luke 11:14-26
Lent 3
March 27th, 2011
“Stronger than the Strong Man”

Jesus' miracles were acts of compassion for those in need, sick, afflicted, cast out from society. Often we are told it is because he “has compassion on them” that he reaches out to heal. But these miracles are also his calling cards, if you will, bright flashing neon signs “The Messiah is Here!”

Some saw the signs and believed – at least to some extent. Others “kept seeking signs”, that is, they refused to believe even when they saw one or more for themselves. So the miraculous sign doesn't guarantee belief. In fact, sometimes Jesus wouldn't or couldn't do a miracle – whether it was for King Herod or the unbelievers in his own home town.

Nonetheless, here in Luke 11, our Gospel for today, Jesus has to defend his miracles of exorcism from unbelieving witnesses. Oh they believed in demons. They even believed that Jesus had cast them out. But they claimed Jesus was working for the Devil – casting out demons by the prince of demons.

Jesus defends his miracles – not with more miracles – but with his words. And his words are really the main thing, anyway. He has a point to make, and it's a simple one – similar to what he's said elsewhere. It's something like this: In spiritual terms – you are either with Jesus or you are against him. There's no middle ground.

If you are against Jesus, then you are under the power of the Devil – whether you are literally possessed by a demon or not – the Devil has hold of you. You are a captive of the “strong man” locked away in his palace, under heavy guard. And this is the condition we were all in. This is the place we were born – into sin. Slaves by birth to a terrible master. Possessed by the forces of darkness for all eternity.

Not that we are terribly opposed to that. Each time we sin, our old nature is gasping and grasping for its old master. There's a part of us that is quite comfortable with evil – to the point that we're numb to it. We can even cast our sins as virtues. You can paint the prison walls pretty, but it's still a prison. And you can pretend that the devil is irrelevant or a figment, and he's just fine with that as long as his hold on you is still strong.

But Jesus is the stronger man who comes to beat up the bully. He not only casts out demons from villagers and peasants – he destroys the prince of demons himself. He shatters the kingdom of the Devil with a cross – his own cross, descending to Hell to announce his victory. He's even stronger than death – rising from the grave to live forever.

All this to bring us to himself. All this to free us from our old master. To break the bonds of sin and death and hell. To create in us a new spirit. And to make us blessed.

When Jesus had finished explaining this to the doubters and the haters, a woman in the crowd shouts out a kind of a complement – blessing even the mother that gave him birth!

Not that Jesus denies it, but he redirects the woman's attention to where true blessing is found. “Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it”. Yes, it's nice to be around Jesus, to see his miracles, to wonder at the wonders. It's great to see him kicking out demons and taking names, bullying the bully for our sake. But it's even better that we hear the word of God and keep it.

Of course, he speaks that word. It's a word of law – a rebuke of sin. Rules to keep that we don't. But his word is also a word of promise – a good word that cleanses and heals. And this word we keep when we treasure the promises and put our faith in them, and in him.

If we don't hear and don't treasure and don't keep that word – it won't matter what else he does for us. He could even cast out demons and the person who doesn't remain in his word will be taken in again, and be worse off than before.

But Jesus does clean house – when it comes to the temple of our body – the temple of the Holy Spirit. He creates in us a new spirit. He washes us clean with the holy waters of baptism. He continues to cleanse us with his holy body and blood. Christ dwells within us, his Spirit dwells within us – and so there simply is no room for an evil spirit. Christ is our master, how could we serve our old master, Satan? Christ is our strong champion – why should we ever worry about what the old serpent can do to us? For his head has been stomped on by the heel of the Savior. He is crushed.

Blessed are you, who hear his word, in this place. Blessed are you, even though each of us struggles with our own demons – literal or not. Blessed are you because the victory is yours in Christ, his word declares, “it is finished”.

Blessed are you who have been sealed in the water of promise – baptized into his name and kingdom. That gift and those words, are also to be kept – not forgotten – not kept on a shelf – but lived and used and remembered each day.

Blessed are you who keep his words of promise that this bread and wine is his body and blood – who remember these words and do what they say. Who receive these gifts in true faith.

Yes, we are weak but he is strong. Enemies surround us, but he protects us. The devil would have us, but we belong to Christ.

Sermon - Matthew 5:27-30 - Lent Midweek 3

Matthew 5:27-30
Lent Midweek 3
March 23rd, 2011
“Lust”

One of the benefits of this sermon series on seven deadly sins is we get to talk about things we don't often cover in the lectionary. We get to zero in on particular sins that trouble us, yes, even us Christians – sins that we might not say much about otherwise. We've already heard about pride and coveting. Today another sin of thought – lust.

Jesus makes it crystal clear that lust is a sin. It is a sin of the heart. And yet, it is to be taken seriously. Like all sins, it is deadly. In fact, Jesus speaks very harshly about this sin – likening it to an eye or a hand that causes sin and must be destroyed, lest the whole body be destroyed and thrown into hell. This should grab our attention!

Where we wish to minimize sins like lust, Jesus maximizes them! Or better yet, he unveils their true severity. Take this sin of lust. In our human way of thinking, it's no big deal. A glance. A look. The imagination runs on. To many of us, it's nothing to worry about and it doesn't hurt anyone. In fact, it's often encouraged. Our culture of consumerism uses it to sell countless products from cars and clothes to foods to pharmaceuticals. In a way, everywhere we look it seems lust is creeping, tempting, inviting us in to stay for a while.

But is a sin of thought a big deal? Isn't it better to just look and not touch? What's the harm? For one, we don't need to know the harm of a sin in order to see it as such. Just because something seems to harm no one doesn't make it fine to do. Our standard of law isn't based on the foreseeable damages. We look, instead, to the law. And while sin does have consequences, even if only spiritual consequences, that's not what makes it sin. It's God's command that matters. Thou shalt. Thou shalt not.

The sixth commandment – what does it mean? Here's what our catechism teaches us: We should fear and love God so that we lead a sexually pure and decent life in what we say and do, and husband and wife love and honor each other.

So he says you shall not commit adultery. And of course, we know the damage that sin can do. Tearing apart marriages. Shattering trust. Breaking homes and scarring the children. Divorce often follows. But long before the sins of deed come the sins of word and thought.

Take King David, in his sin with Bathsheba. Sure, he took another man's wife, and then committed murder to cover that sin. But even before it all happened – there was lust. He saw her from his rooftop and sinful thoughts led to sinful actions. Long before he committed adultery, he had committed adultery in his heart. And so it followed with his son Amnon, whose lust for his own sister led to more dark sins.

Not every sin of lust leads immediately to actual adultery, but lust still devalues the gifts God gives us as men and women. When we objectify others, when we see someone only for their sexuality, we treat the very image of God with dishonor. What's in it for me, instead of how can I serve my neighbor? Lust is antithetical to “husband and wife loving and honoring each other”. It seeks only for the self.

So how do we deal with this sin of lust that brings so much deadliness? Simply stop? Be good? Take a cold shower? No. We deal with the sin of lust like all other sins – with repentance and by receiving forgiveness. In this sense there is no distinction. All sins are deadly, and all are destroyed at the cross.

For we could even seek to cut off the hand that causes us to sin, or pluck out the eye – but if our very heart is sinful, how can we live? Instead, Jesus gave his whole self – eyes, hands, feet, pierced side, thorn-crowned head, scourged back – all of himself, for us. He was destroyed so we are not. He was cast away from God so we are not. He suffered hell to save us from hell.

Jesus Christ – the only one ever to lead a sexually pure and decent life – honors his bride the church by dying for her. For you, that is. He is the bridegroom who is preparing, even now, the great marriage feast in his kingdom which has no end. He is the faithful husband to his people Israel of Old, and to the New Israel which His Spirit gathers and sanctifies.

Lay your sins of lust – and all your sins – on him. His desire is to take them away forever. His desire is to make you righteous and holy, pure and decent.

After David had sinned with Bathsheba, a sin which began with lust and grew and grew.... he was confronted by Nathan the prophet. But instead of explaining away his sin, making excuses or minimizing it in any way, he confessed. And God forgave.

It was then that David wrote these familiar words of Psalm 51, words we know well today – words which take on even fuller meaning through Christ.

Have mercy on me, O God,
according to your steadfast love;
according to your abundant mercy
blot out my transgressions.
2 Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity,
and cleanse me from my sin!

3 For I know my transgressions,
and my sin is ever before me.
4 Against you, you only, have I sinned
and done what is evil in your sight,
so that you may be justified in your words
and blameless in your judgment.
5 Behold, I was brought forth in iniquity,
and in sin did my mother conceive me.
6 Behold, you delight in truth in the inward being,
and you teach me wisdom in the secret heart.

7 Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean;
wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
8 Let me hear joy and gladness;
let the bones that you have broken rejoice.
9 Hide your face from my sins,
and blot out all my iniquities.
10 Create in me a clean heart, O God,
and renew a right spirit within me.
11 Cast me not away from your presence,
and take not your Holy Spirit from me.
12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation,
and uphold me with a willing spirit.

Sermon - Proverbs 16:18 - Ash Wednesday

Proverbs 16:18
Ash Wednesday
March 9th, 2011
“Pride”

Pride goes before destruction,
and a haughty spirit before a fall. Prov. 16:18 (ESV)

And so it begins, our journey to Calvary called Lent. Our 40 days of fasting and contemplation to prepare us for a sober and meaningful observance of Good Friday, and the triumphant joy of Easter to follow. But for now, we put on the purple, put away the Alleluias, and focus all the more closely on our sin and our need for repentance, and for our Savior.

For our midweek series we'll be exploring seven deadly sins. And while the idea of “seven deadly sins” has become part of American culture, it has its roots in the catholic church as far back as the 4th century. So it was taught, and apparently still is, that these 7 sins are “mortal sins”, and that other sins aren't so deadly, but these are the ones you really have to watch out for....

Well not so fast. Lutheran theology sets us straight on sin. All sin is deadly. A biblical view of sin doesn't diminish its danger. “The soul that sins shall perish”, and so in a sense all sins are deadly sins. While some may hold more earthly consequences, and others may harm more obviously – we confess with with the church through all ages that sin is always a problem, a deadly and damnable problem. Sins of thought, word and deed, sins of omission and commission, sins against God and against neighbor and against self. And all sinners are called to repent of these, turning away from death – and turning in faith to Christ our only savior from sin.

With that major disclaimer in mind, still, it's worth exploring these seven sins – not because they are worse or more deadly – but because they are so common among us. It's worth venturing into the dark so that we can shine the light of God's Word on our souls. And and these deadly sins come scurrying out from within, may the Gospel of Jesus Christ stomp each and every one of them. Let these 40 days be a time of deep repentance and strengthening faith for us all. For though we have seven deadly sins – and more – we have one loving Savior, who dies to take them away.

Our first sin is pride. And you might even argue that THE first sin was pride. Proverbs tells us, “Pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.” Wasn't it pride that the slippery serpent used to tempt Eve into sin? For after all, you eat that fruit and “you will be like God”. And so Eve and Adam and all of us fell – but the pride came first.

What is sinful pride? Perhaps we could define it as thinking more of yourself than you should. Paul says, “if anyone thinks he is something when he is nothing, he deceives himself”. And John says, “if we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us”. And yet how many people would pridefully claim to be without sin? How many would think so much of themselves that they believe they can pass the test of God's probing law and perfect judgment?

Pride – it puffs us up with a false sense of security, or a false sense of our worth and value. It's a lie we tell ourselves to avoid the hard truth – that we really are sinners. That we really are nothing. That our best works are filthy rags. That our “goodness” is a sham. Pride, ultimately, wants to make us our own gods. And then who needs the real God?

The opposite of pride is humility. And many who follow this list of seven deadly sins also point to a list of seven heavenly virtues – opposites to these sins. The idea is that the solution to each sin is to just stop it! And do the opposite. Don't be proud, be humble. Don't be envious, but be kind. Don't be lustful, but be chaste. Etc. Well, easier said than done. In fact, easily said, impossible to do. The solution to deadly sins is not to simply “be good”. It is repentance and faith. It's a turning away from sin, yes, but a turning toward the only Savior from sin.

The only one who was ever truly humble. He even said so, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.” (Matthew 11:29)

If I claimed to be humble you'd laugh at me, for the very claim negates it – but not when it comes to Jesus. He, who had every good and right reason to be proud – he who was without sin – he who was God Almighty – he was humble. He humbled himself, he came down to be less than he was, taking the flesh of a human being, born in a stable, raised in a backwater town, reviled by men, betrayed, deserted, convicted, crucified, dead, buried. It doesn't get any lower than Jesus gets. Forsaken by God – it doesn't get any more humble.

Sin was deadly to him, though. All sins were put upon him. He who had no sin became sin for us. And he died. But by his death he destroyed death. He brought haughty Satan to utter ruin. He laid proud death in the grave forever, and rose to life forevermore. And when he finished his course here, and many saw proof that he was alive, he took back his rightful place at the top. He ascended into heaven, and will come again to judge the living and the dead. But his kingdom will have no end.

If we are to be proud at all, in a scriptural sense, if we are to think highly of anyone or anything – it is Christ. “Let him who boasts, boast in the Lord.” For in ourselves we are nothing. But in him who is everything, we are everything. In ourselves there is only sin and death, nothing to be proud of. In him there is righteousness and life – and everything to revel in. Pride goes before destruction, but his destruction brings us back from our own. His humble service, in life and death, offers grace and peace and hope and promise to you – now and for all time.

In this Lenten season, repent. Repent of sinful pride. Remember that you are nothing – and to dust you will return. But also turn in faith the the Humble One, who was raised up, and who lifts us up – and one day will lift up even our bodies from the dust to live with him forever. Believe in him, Jesus, and you will have rest. Amen.

Sermon - Matthew 17:1-9 - Transfiguration

Matthew 17:1-9
The Transfiguration of our Lord
March 6th, 2011
“Just a Peek”

Transfiguration. Now there's some churchly insider lingo for you. What does it mean? Trans, as in, change – figure, as in figure or appearance. Jesus' appearance changes on the mountain. And we mark this unusual event every year with a special Sunday at the end of the Epiphany season and right before Lent.

So why the change? And what does this have to do with you and me? As the three apostles have front row seats to this miraculous sign, we sit and peek over their shoulder this morning, ponder the meaning of the Transfiguration. And be encouraged with them, for here we come to the mountain, yet we may not remain...

First, let's recall the context of this event. Jesus had less than a week before pointedly revealed to his disciples that he was the Christ! And he immediately started to tell them what that meant – that he would go to Jerusalem, that he would suffer and die. Mark tells us, “he spoke about this plainly”. But the disciples didn't want to hear it, and Peter tried to rebuke him. “Get behind me, Satan!” Jesus told him, “You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of man!”

And then he told them, “some standing here today will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom”.

With these words hanging in the air for just 6 days, the very next thing the Gospel writers detail is the Transfiguraiton.

In those six days, we can only wonder what ran through those disciples' minds. Was the truth about Jesus starting to sink in? That he was a suffering Messiah, not a triumphant conqueror? Were they perhaps becoming doubtful about him? What's this crazy talk about death and resurrection, anyway? And what did he mean by they will see him coming in his kingdom?

Have you ever been put off by the word of God? Have you ever struggled to understand, or to believe what the holy scriptures teach? Has a sermon ever not sat that well with you, bothered you – made you churn and squirm? Does the law have its way with you? And are you sometimes not only confused about God, but also yourself – how you fit in with his plan?

Sometimes we get it right, like Peter, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God!”. Sometimes we get it wrong like Peter, thinking we know better than our Lord. And sometimes, we just don't get it. Confusion reigns.

We look at ourselves and see something far afield from the glory that shines in Christ. We are bumbling fools in our sins, filthy and slimy. Dark and dull. Twisted and evil. We are are the opposite of the mountaintop, we are the depths and chasms, wallowing in the muck of our miserableness. Oh, to even be in the presence of such glory – we can see why Peter wanted to build some tents and stay awhile. But that wasn't the point either.

So then, the transfiguration. A high mountain, Peter, James and John. Jesus' appearance changes – dazzling white glory – they get a peek behind the veil of his humility. After all, he truly is God of God and Light of Light. Moses and Elijah, representing the law and the prophets, all the Old Testament scriptures testifying to Jesus as Lord. And best of all, the voice from heaven, God's own voice, “This is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased. Listen to him.” The same voice and the same remarks from Jesus' Baptism, only now he adds, “Listen to Him”. You may see a spectacle here. You may be startstruck by your Old Testament heroes. You may have the image seared on you forever – but listen! Listen to him!

And so what does he say? “The Son of man will go up to Jerusalem, and suffer and die, and be raised again.” He speaks the Gospel!

This great event, this mountaintop experience, this bright shining moment is great and all, but it's nothing compared to the glory yet to come. It's nothing compared to the day, the Friday that Jesus has in mind, and the Sunday morning to follow. There, on that mountain called Calvary, Jesus would come into his kingdom. And John, who had a front row seat to the transfiguration, will also stand at the foot of the cross.

There Jesus will be stripped of all earthly dignity, rather than clothed in glory. There Jesus will be flanked by common thieves, not great men of faith. There darkness will blot out the sun, rather than radiance shining forth. There no one would say, “it is good to be here, let's build some tents and stay a while”. There, God would not consider Jesus his beloved Son with whom he is well pleased, but instead, he would forsake him who was made to become sin for us.

But listen to him. What he says there, on the cross, matters even more. Forgive them. You will be with me in paradise. It is finished.

The transfiguration of our Lord – it shows Jesus glory. It gives the disciples, and us, just a peek of what our eyes cannot see – that this Jesus is indeed the Son of God. The voice of the Father confirms it. But this mountaintop experience isn't the goal. It simply prepares us for that other mountain, where Jesus does what he really came to do – die for sinners like us. Knowing his true identity is important to understanding that death – that the God made flesh dies for all people – it's foundational to our faith. It's the heart and center of it all.

What does the transfiguration mean to us? It means that Jesus Christ is the Light of Light and very God of very God - he has and deserves all the glory. But it means that the cross matters all the more – that his suffering and death for us are all the better – because he is who he is. The transfiguration reminds us that it's not just some guy who dies for us – but God's own Son. The transfiguration, a picture of glory, actually points us away from such glory to the darkness and scandal of the cross. There is God's kind of glory – a power made perfect in weakness – a salvation through suffering – sweet life for all won by bitter death for him.

And finally, the transfiguration gives us a hint of that kingdom that is yet to come – the kingdom of glory, when we will see Christ as he truly is, when he comes to raise us up forever. Then, we too will be like him, glorified. Then, we will be transfigured – changed – made perfect – body and soul forever. The transfiguration is Christ as he truly is – but it's also a glimpse of our future in him.

Until then, the glory remains hidden. The promise is heard but not seen. He comes to us humbly, still – under bread and wine, by the water, in the Gospel. His kingdom comes to you today – forgiving you, renewing you, and transfiguring you, by faith. So receive him, see him, listen to him. In Jesus' Name, Amen.

Sermon - Matthew 6:24-34 - Epiphany 8

Matthew 6:24-34
Epiphany 8
February 27th, 2011
“What are You Worried About?”

I asked around this week what worries people the most. I suppose most of the answers I got were pretty common worries – worried about losing a loved one, worried about the welfare of one's family, worried about the Christian faith of one's children.

Top ten lists of American worries include things like terrorism and global warming, as well as more personal things like paying the bills and losing a job or getting a job, worries about health and relationships.

I did get one interesting answer – someone said, “I'm worried about being worried”. That is, the person knew exactly what Jesus says in our Gospel reading this morning, “Do not be anxious about anything”. And the person worried that because he worried at all – maybe he wasn't really a Christian!

Today's words of Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount cut both ways. They cut us down with razor-sharp precision, for we all worry. But they also renew and restore with precious promises – and show us why in Christ there's no need for anxiety.

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”

Maybe we should take a step back and see where Jesus started here – with anxieties about money. Many of us, perhaps all of us at times, make money our master. And if not money itself – the things money can buy. The material items of life. For you it may not be clothing or food – we're fortunate enough to have most of those needs met. But it may be anxiety about paying off the credit card or the monthly mortgage. It may be about selling your house or paying for your kids' tuition... or soon enough, tax time.

All of these are good things – money and the things it can buy – but they are not to be our master. They are not to rule over us. We cannot serve them and God, our true master. And when we are anxious about them, when we spend our days preoccupied with things – we are not trusting in our true Master as we should. It's a lack of faith that leads to such anxiety. It's a lack of trust in God that leads us to worry about tomorrow.

Well, sure, don't worry about money. And don't worry about food or clothing. So if we can do that, are we off the hook? Most of the things people seem to worry about around here aren't food and clothing – we're more worried about our families, our loved ones. Isn't that a noble form of worry? Ah, but even these can become our masters, our idols, and take the place of our God. For just as God provides food and shelter, and takes care of our life, he knows how to best care for our loved ones.

Jesus tells us not to worry or be anxious for several reasons. For one, it doesn't do any good. It won't add a single day to our life. Instead, we observe, worrying is really not a pleasant experience. It brings troubles real or imagined into the present, where they don't belong. Jesus says each day has enough trouble of its own. He doesn't want us to make ourselves suffer in the futility of worry. It's useless, and ultimately makes us miserable.

But an even better reason to not be anxious is the promise – that God will care for you! Jesus unfolds this in various ways – comparing us to the lilies and the birds, clothed and fed by God without care or worry. And then he says, aren't you worth more than these? Then don't worry – God will care for you all the more!

If you doubt God's care, if you don't trust that he will provide for you. If you are beset by worry and hounded by your anxieties, if you just can't see that God wants what is best for you and will go to great lengths to provide it – then look again to the cross.

Ponder this, “he who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?”

God provided for our greatest need – our only real eternal need – the salvation of our souls.

If we were still lost in sin, then no amount of food or clothing or money or anything would matter. We would be lost eternally. We would be destined for destruction. We would have bigger worries than these. But Christ has saved us from all this by his blood. He who was impoverished and naked and hungry and thirsty for us – he gives us a robe of righteousness, bread from heaven, the water of life, and the riches of his grace – a crown of glory that will never fade. You think the lilies and the birds have it good? Remember his promises to you! Recall what God has done for you in Christ!

Now, it's true, we don't always see the physical blessings we want when we want them. And it's true that some people do go hungry, and naked, and some people even starve to death. These promises to provide for us are not, ultimately, of this world. For while God does provide for us here, and everything we have here is a gift from him, there will be a day when this life ends. When the lights go out, and no money will help us, no food will keep us alive another day.

But it's that day when we will see the fullness of his promises. Then we will have abundant and eternal provisions beyond our wildest dreams. That day is an end to all worry, anxiety, or any thought of a future that holds any trouble at all.

So don't worry about tomorrow. Instead, trust in the one who provides for you. The one who provided even his own Son. He knows your needs. And he promises to provide for you eternally. Don't worry about tomorrow, but in faith, look further to that glorious day when all his promises come in full, and we share the eternal blessings of heaven.

7 Deadly Sins – 1 Loving Savior

Grace Lutheran Church, Racine, WI
2011 Lenten Series

7 Deadly Sins – 1 Loving Savior

Theologians in times past developed a list of “7 deadly sins”. These grave sins, they argued, led to the destruction of faith and eternal damnation.

We Lutherans consider all sins deadly, apart from repentance and faith in Christ. Still, these 7 are a useful list to help us reflect on our spiritual shortcomings and explore the many facet's of Christ's forgiving love. Join us for this mid-week Lenten series as we consider how Jesus forgives us of:

Pride - Ash Wednesday – March 9th

Covetousness - March 16th

Lust - March 23rd

Anger - March 30th

Gluttony - April 6th

Envy - April 13th

Sloth - Maundy Thursday – April 21st

Sermon - Matthew 5:21-37 - Epiphany 6

Matthew 5:21-37
Epiphany 6
February 13th, 2011
“Raising the Bar”

Have you ever murdered someone? No? Have you ever cheated on your spouse? Probably not. Have you ever been angry with your brother? Have you ever called someone an idiot? Have you ever taken an oath, “sworn to God” or on your mother's grave? Have you ever taken a look at someone with less than pure thoughts? If you answer yes to any of these – then Jesus says you are liable for judgment, deserving of condemnation – you've earned your ticket to eternal punishment in Hell.

“Well, good morning to you too, pastor, nice way to start the sermon.” But it's true. In today's Gospel reading Jesus smacks us up and down with the law. He takes what laws and rules people were comfortable with – you know, the ones we can mostly keep – and he blows them up in our faces, showing us how truly impossible it is to keep the law of God.

You may think you're ok because you've never killed someone. But anger is murder in the heart. And that counts too. You may think you're just fine because you've never cheated on your wife, but you have – with your eyes. And that's a damnable sin. You may think that divorce is ok as long as both parties agree it's just not working out – but Jesus says otherwise.

All of these sins, which we think of as “no big deal”, Jesus pulls the rug out from under us. They are a big deal, as big a deal as hell itself.

And don't think that Jesus doesn't mean it. Don't think that he's talking in exaggerated terms here. He's deadly serious.

Nor is he just trying to scare you straight – so that you'll shape up for fear of punishment. It's too late for that anyway. All of us have already earned our own death, and worse. The perfection God demands was never in our reach anyway, and we'd be fools to think we can get there tomorrow.

So why, then? Why does Jesus cut us down with this extreme law? Why does God, for that matter, make it so tough for us to keep it? It's like Jesus is taking our sin and failure here and rubbing our noses in it – pointing out to us in starkest terms just how much the law has us dead to rights.

It's to drive you to despair. It's to show you how hopeless your situation is. It's to lay out for you that there is no way in heaven, earth, or hell, that you can measure up. “You have heard it said...” yes, we've heard a lot about the law, and how we can do this or that. How if we only follow this, or keep that, or just think this way – then the solution is within our grasp. We hear this from false teachers who may even believe it themselves – that we can save ourselves from disaster. That the choice is ours, the power is ours, that we just have to do ______. But it's a lie.

“You have heard it said...” but JESUS says something different. He raises the bar. He makes it harder, he makes it impossible. Rather, he shows the truth that it is impossible to please God with our works, he brings our sins to light, and leaves us in despair, without hope, lost.

But he doesn't leave us there. If we were to look to ourselves, we could sit in a corner and cry about how hopeless it is. But there's somewhere else to look. If we are to keep trying to reach up, to stand up, to rise up to the occasion, we will always fall and fall short. But there's someone who reaches down to us. It's Jesus.

These words aren't the only words Jesus ever said. And scolding us, though we deserve it, isn't the only thing he ever does.

He raises the bar on the law, but he also raises the bar of his cross. This is why he came – the cross. And there he hangs and suffers and dies, to wipe out all our law-breaking. There he is raised, for all to see, the perfect sacrifice, dying for all. There's you're only hope for God's favor, but what a hope it is!

What salvation could be more certain than the one that God himself accomplishes? We, who can do nothing right – we get to rely on him who does everything well. He who was without sin – the only one ever – he became sin for us. The only one who didn't deserve death takes it on for all who do. The only one not subject to death makes himself subject to death for his rebellious subjects, and wins life for us by it.



He shows us our sin, clear as day. But he doesn't just pat us on the head and say, “Close enough. Try harder next time, now run along”. Nor does he leave us in despair. Instead he takes the punishment from us. He descends to the depths for us. He dies our death, takes our cross, and gives us life.

And in doing so, he raises us. Through him, and only through him, do we meet God's standards. In him, we are declared perfect, made perfect. God sees us that way, even now. He works on us, and in us, by his Spirit - he has “begun a good work in us”, and he will “bring it to completion at the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” What a joy it will be, on that final day, to be fully free from sin in every way.

No we are far from perfect. We fall short of the bar, especially the high bar Jesus sets for us in the Sermon on the Mt. Repentance is a daily struggle. But not a hopeless one.

For Jesus meets every demand of the law, and through his cross, wipes away our transgressions. Newly created in him, by water and word, we are raised to life – now and forever – and perfected by him.

Jesus raises the bar on the law, but he also raises us, even to eternal life. Thanks be to God! Amen.

Sermon - 1 Corinthians 1:18-31 - Epiphany 4

1 Corinthians 1:18-31
Epiphany 4
January 30th, 2011
“Preaching Foolishness”

“That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!” Anyone ever said that to you, or about something you happen to believe? Is there anything more insulting or disquieting than to have someone question one of the major tenets of your faith – or to suggest that the whole thing is rubbish?

And don't think it doesn't happen. For many of the doctrines of the Christian faith are disturbing to those who don't believe them. Sure there are the live-and-let-live types. But to those who take the time to understand what Christianity actually teaches – they are often angered or offended. And they'll sometimes tell you how foolish they think you are to believe it.

But this isn't a sermon about them. This is a sermon for us. What does it do to us when someone tells us our faith is stupid? That we are fools? Does even a part of us believe it?

We are tempted, not just by such attacks. We are tempted even by our own minds, to place our reason before faith, our own ideas and thoughts before the word of God. And when we do, we usually come to the wrong conclusion.

Luther called reason the “Devil's bride” and the “Greatest enemy of the faith”. One quote attributed to Luther reads, “Reason must be deluded, blinded, and destroyed. Faith must trample underfoot all reason, sense, and understanding, and whatever it sees must be put out of sight and … know nothing but the word of God” He also said, "All the articles of our Christian faith, which God has revealed to us in His Word, are in presence of reason sheerly impossible, absurd, and false."

So Dr. Luther agrees with St. Paul, that the message of the cross is foolishness, a scandal, utterly unreasonable.

But. To us who are being saved.... a different story. To us who
are being saved, Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God. Still, there's this conflict within us...


Sin often seems so reasonable. Just a little cheating here won't hurt. A little lying there and no one will know. I'll get rid of this inconvenience and I'll ignore that word of God – it's just not practical. God's ways don't make sense to us. Wouldn't it be better to do it my way?

I know God said, “don't eat from that tree”. But it looks so good and I want to be wise. God said, “Honor thy Father and Mother”, but they just don't know what it's like to be a teenager. God said, “do not give up meeting together”, but I could really use a day off this weekend. God said, “pray for your enemies”, but I really hate that guy! God said, “love your neighbor”, but that person doesn't seem worth it... and on and on...

But in reality sin is entirely unreasonable. How many times do we do what's wrong even though we know better. Even though we know we'll get caught, we'll pay the consequences one way or another. Even though we know that sin brings death, and pain, and punishment. And yet we go and sin – for some inexplicable reason.

Reason, human, corrupted, sinful reason, must bow to the foolishness of God. What we think, and what we think we know, must always come after what God says is true. Even if it seems unreasonable.

And thank God for such foolishness. What kind of foolish God would do what he does? Come down from heaven, be born a human. Be mocked. Suffer. Die. Forgive sinners. Love people who hate him. Do it all for people who do everything but his will. Jesus is either the biggest fool who ever lived, or his foolishness is bigger and better than we can imagine.

Paul says God uses the weak things of this world to shame the strong. There's no one stronger in this world than Satan himself. And there's nothing weaker than dying in humility on a cross. And there it is. The foolishness of God. The cross.

So we preach Christ Crucified. It's the only way. It's the only wisdom for us foolish sinners. It's the only power for those of us weakened even to death. Jesus dies, for you and me, for all. The Lord of life dies to bring life. The All-Powerful God submits to petty and unjust human punishments, the judge of all, the king of all, submits to cowardly Pilate.

And in a fit of further foolishness, God turns things upside down again – bringing Jesus from death to life. Back from the dead. Who would ever have thought? What worldly wisdom could have predicted? But no, it's against all reason and wisdom and common sense. But it is by such foolishness that we are saved. In fact without the resurrection, our faith is in vain, as Paul says.

So the next time someone calls you a fool for believing in Jesus, you might agree. But remember that God's foolishness is wiser than man's wisdom. The next time sin seems reasonable to you, repent! And in your weakness turn to the only strength we have – the weakness and foolishness of Christ. We preach Christ Crucified.. for you! The power and wisdom of God are in him, for you.

In his holy name, Amen.

Sermon - John 1:29-42 - Epiphany 2

John 1:29-42
Epiphany 2
January 16th, 2011
“Behold the Lamb”

We're two Sundays in to the season of Epiphany. And as I say every year, the big question for the Epiphany season is, “who exactly is this Jesus?”

We hear at his baptism – the voice from heaven declares it – he is God's own Son. That same voice will echo in a few weeks at his Transfiguration.

But in-between, we have a number of these Gospel readings which unfold and unpack different aspects of who Jesus is. Through his speech and actions, we get a clearer picture of this one who was born in Bethlehem, of whom angels sang. What is his identity? And if he is the savior, what kind of savior would he be?

Today, John the Baptist chimes in. He declares Jesus to be the “Lamb of God”. The text also calls him Rabbi, the Son of God, and the Messiah, that is, the Christ. All these names or titles tell us something about who Jesus is.

But Lamb of God is perhaps the most unusual name of these. It's a technical term in the Old Testament, having to do with the Passover. There a lamb, a perfect unblemished male lamb was slaughtered, and its blood was used on the doorposts to mark the homes of God's people. When the Angel of Death came for the final plague – to kill all the firstborn of Egypt, he would see the blood of the lamb and pass over that house. The Lamb was also roasted and consumed that night by God's people – a feast which was established then and carried over every year as remembrance of God's mercy to them – how God saved them from slavery in Egypt.

It's easy for us Christians to see how Jesus fits the bill of “Lamb of God”. He was the one, perfect sacrifice without spot or blemish. He is the one who saves by his blood – saves us from death. He is the one who is consumed in the wrath of God over sin, as he suffers its punishments for us. And we even continue to remember this blessed sacrifice in our holy sacrament – which he established, and we feast on him – body and blood, for the forgiveness of our sins.

Did John understand all this when he pointed out Jesus as the “Lamb of God?” Who knows. But he was right to direct our attention to Jesus.

He says, “Behold!” And that little word is important, too. “Take note!” “Look here!” “This is important!” We do well to “behold” Jesus. It might not seem so at first. For a bloody lamb slaughtered and roasted guts-and-all isn't a pretty sight. Nor is the sight of a man beaten and bloodied, shamed and humiliated, hung up on a cross with nails and thorns and sweat and agony.... no, Jesus isn't a pretty picture either. But John says, “Behold!”

The truth is, when we “Behold the Lamb”, and it's not pretty – it's not pretty because of sin. Sin is what's ugly. Sin's consequences – suffering, pain, death – are uglier still. And there on the cross Jesus becomes sin for us, “God made him, who had no sin, to become sin for us.' Oh yes, all well and good, pastor, sin is ugly.

But that's our sin we're talking about. Mine. Yours. When you behold the lamb who was slain, and see the bloody mess that sin makes, that's your mess! Are we accustomed to thinking of our sins in such terms? Are we used to thinking that every time we gossip or fudge the truth or slack off when we should be working – it means blood and death? Do we consider our sins that ugly, or have we become so accustomed to sinning that it's not a big deal anymore?

Sure, we are repulsed by CERTAIN sins – other people's sins, mostly. The child abusers and the drunk drivers. The people who cheat on their husbands or beat their wives. But what about the people whose love is cold? Who are too selfish? Who neglect to do the good that a child of God is called to do? What about people who just think evil thoughts and hold lust in their hearts? Jesus condemns such things too. We're not off the hook. We're just good at beholding other things besides our own sins.

Maybe the Old Testament people had better reminders than we do of this reality. As day after day bulls and lambs and doves were slain and butchered and burned in sacrifice for sin. An endless stream of blood poured out for the endless stream of sin and its wake of death.
And yet, it wasn't, ultimately enough. One hymn puts it well, “Not all the blood of beasts on Jewish altars slain could give the guilty conscience peace or wash away the stain.”

But once you've truly beheld the bloody mess that is your sin, then once again “Behold the Lamb of God...who takes away the sin of the world.” And yes, that includes your sin, too.

Jesus is that lamb. Jesus takes that mess. He suffers for you, and for all people. And he dies. And there is nothing more important for us to behold, to look at, to pay attention to. For there in the Lamb of God, we see God's love for us sinners, and we are forgiven.

And that lamb is slain, only to rise again! We can behold him on the cross, and in the tomb, but we will see him, behold him, face to face one day – for he lives forever, and we will live with him forever. The Lamb is victorious, and he gives us a share in his victory.

Behold him again, today, as he comes in the sacrament. Though we don't see him with our eyes, we behold him by faith – according to his promise. This is his body and blood. Given and shed for you. This, here, is the lamb of God. Behold the lamb. Take eat, take drink, for your forgiveness.

And believe it for Jesus' sake. Amen.

Sermon - Luke 2:41-52 - Christmas 2

Luke 2:41-52
Christmas 2
January 2nd, 2011
“It is Necessary”

It's a week and a day after Christmas and already Jesus is 12. That's because the New Testament isn't too concerned about the details of his childhood. We are simply told that Jesus was an obedient son. The next we see of him he is 30, and his public ministry begins.

But there's more to this account of the boy Jesus in the temple than to satisfy some of our curiosity about those years between his birth and public ministry. Luke isn't trying to write a biography of Jesus life, but instead to tell us a Gospel account – what is the good news of Jesus Christ? And to that end, this story of Jesus at 12 in the temple – it points toward that good news.

There are some clues here that connect this account with Jesus' later life and deeds – and especially, his passion.

For one, these events take place in Jerusalem – which is where the story of Jesus' work and life begins and ends. It all happens in close proximity to the Passover feast – where the lamb is slain as a sacrifice for sin. So the true Lamb of God would shed his blood, here, as a sacrifice for all sin.

The temple takes center stage, there, and in Jesus' work. For he would cleanse it, teach in it, and destroy the temple of his body to rebuild it in three days. The temple, the house of God, was the place where God dwelt with man. Jesus is the true temple, the ultimate dwelling of God with man. God and man united in one person. God with us, Emmanuel. Old Simeon sings when the “Light to the Gentiles” and the “Glory of Israel” is brought to the temple as an infant. And when the God-man is crucified, the temple curtain is torn in two.

There's a little three-letter Greek word, which means “it is necessary”. Luke uses that word in today's reading, when Jesus says, “it is necessary for me to be in my Father's house”. The same word appears when Jesus speaks of the necessity of him going up to Jerusalem, to suffer and die and rise again. It is necessary. It was a must, for us.

Mary and Joseph would lose their son and find him on the third day, just as in his death he was lost to Mary only for three days, and rose to life on the third. There another Mary would be asked, “why are you looking for Jesus?”

Jesus has work to do. Even at 12, he knew who he was, and he knew where he would be going. In his Father's house, and about his Father's business. Not his will, but the Father's would be done. The obedient son of Joseph and Mary is the obedient Eternal son of God.

For our part, we are disobedient sons and daughters. We disobey our Heavenly Father, and we disregard his earthly representatives – parents and other authorities. We are not about our Father's business as we should be, and we are not in our Father's house as often or as faithfully as he would have us. We are sinners, after all. And in our sins, we are really lost, and do need to be found.

Like Mary and Joseph, and so many other students of the wise Teacher, we don't always understand very well what Jesus is talking about. We hear what we want to hear – even from God's Word. Jesus wants to talk suffering and death. He wants to point us to the cross. But like so many others, we want success and glory instead.

But only in his cross do we find what we need – access to the Father's house in heaven. It's not just the thief next to Jesus there that receives the promise of a place in paradise – but all people who believe in Christ – for us he prepares a place. For us he will come back, to take us home.

From that cross flow all the gifts of God's grace, and we receive them in the Word of God, and in his Sacraments. Baptismal water which makes us his children. Words of teaching which create and nurture faith. Bread and wine that are the true body and blood of the Lamb – and that truly take away sins. And we find all of these, in God's house. And he comes to us here, in this place, and brings us to his Father through these means of grace.

Even as a 12 year old, Jesus is doing things for his people, being who he is, our Savior. Teaching, Amazing, pointing to the cross. Submitting to his parents, in fulfillment of the law – for us. Submitting to his Father, in fulfillment of all righteousness – for us.

Take a page from Mary, who treasured up all these things in her heart. Treasure up the birth and life and work and teachings of Jesus. Sit at the feet of the great teacher, whose wisdom surpasses even Solomon's.

And marvel with the scribes and chief priests, and be amazed with Joseph and Mary. Appreciate all that he is and does for you, the poor sinner. And see how he points you again and again to his cross and resurrection. Amen.

Sermon: - Acts 6:8 - 7:2a, 51-60

Acts 6:8-7:2a, 51-60
Feast of St. Stephen
December 26th, 2010
“In His Footsteps”

The Christian Church today marks a special remembrance for the first Christian martyr, St. Stephen. Chosen as one of the 7 deacons to assist the 12 apostles in distributing food to the needy, we read how Stephen's bold proclamation of Christ leads to his untimely demise at the hands of angry Jewish opponents. After holding their ears and shouting so as not to hear his message, they stone him to death.

Perhaps because St. Stephen was a martyr whose main service was to help the poor – we have a more recent story about a Christian ruler around 900 A.D., King Wenceslas – who is also remembered for helping the poor. The Christmas hymn in his honor (from the late 1800s) begins:

Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
When the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even

I won't sing the whole thing... but the hymn goes on to tell of a supposed miracle involving the king, when he went walking through the snow on his way to help a poor peasant. The king's servant found warmth as he followed the king through the snow. The legend tells that the king's footprints radiated heat and kept his servant warm in the bitter cold.

Tradition then tells us that Wenceslas was murdered by his brother, partly because Wenceslas was a proponent of Christianity, and did things like defending priests from persecution. So perhaps, one could say, by helping the poor and dying for his faith, King Wenceslas followed in St. Stephen's footsteps.

Stephen, for his part, is regarded as the first Christian martyr. His symbol – the one printed in our bulletin – includes three stones and a palm branch. Of course, because he was stoned to death, and a palm branch reminding us of how the martyrs are pictured in Revelation – waving palm branches – a symbol of victory even though their blood was shed.

Some might say that we too, should follow in the footsteps of Stephen and Wenceslas, and of course, of Jesus. That the lesson here is for us to feed the poor, do good for the kingdom, proclaim God's word, whatever – to follow in their footsteps. To learn from their example. And while certainly these are good things to do, there's a bit of a problem.

We're not so good at following in those kinds of footsteps. In fact, we more often fall on our faces. Rather than boldly proclaiming God's word, we more often find our foot in our mouth. Think about it.

You feel good about yourself because you made a point of saying Merry Christmas to a store cashier. But then you go home and gossip about your friend. You put a dollar in the red pot with the bell-ringer, but you speak unkindly and think in anger toward your own family. You may blame it on stress, or a long to-do list with little time to do it, but the real problem is that all of us are tripped up by our own sins. And rather than fancy ourselves graceful footstep followers, we should be honest about our clumsy and wandering ways.

What a wonder that Christ walks in OUR footsteps. His walk is graceful, and it is full of grace for us. He becomes a human, takes on human flesh, body, eyes, ears, hands, feet. He walks a perfect walk of the law, something we could never do. And he walks the way of the cross – a path to face God's wrath, so we don't have to. Whatever we do for him, imperfect as it may be, is only because of what he has done for us.

Stephen did follow in the footsteps of Christ, but by the power of the Holy Spirit. And if we do anything well or good, it is to God's credit and not to ours.

First of all, take Stephen's bold proclamation. No fear stood in the way of his witness. He plainly laid out his proclamation, no matter the consequences. And consequences there were. He followed Christ in this way – who paid the consequences for speaking truth to those same powerful men. Like Christ, Stephen commended his spirit to God, even with his dying breath – and so may we follow in those footsteps in our last hour.

But best of all for Stephen, he trusted in Christ. And here is the best example to follow. That even in the face of death at the hands of evil men, we belong to Christ. That nothing, not even death, can separate us from Christ's love. That our sins are forgiven. Our filthy feet, our guilty hands, indeed our whole body is washed in baptismal water and divine blood

For Stephen's prayer, following in the footsteps of Christ, is answered. “Do not hold this sin against them”. Jesus prayed, “Father forgive them.” Jesus makes that prayer a reality.

So it is for us. Forgive us our trespasses, Lord, as we forgive those who trespass against us. May we follow in the footsteps of our Lord Jesus Christ. Forgive as we have been forgiven. Love as we have been loved. Give as we have received. And even carry our own crosses.

Following in his footsteps isn't always easy or without pain. Stephen and so many other martyrs found this out the hardest way. But Christ and his cross make even this suffering worthwhile. For we know where the path leads. Our forerunner went from cross to tomb to life again. And so shall we – from this world of sorrows, to a blessed death, commending ourselves to his care, to a resurrection in glory and life eternal with him.

Sermon - Isaiah 9:2 - Christmas Eve

Isaiah 9:2
Christmas Eve
December 24th, 2010
“A Great Light”

The people who walked in darkness
have seen a great light;
those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness,
on them has light shined

Grace and peace to you this holy night from Christ our Lord, the Light of the World. Amen.

Perhaps you saw the article earlier this week about the Lunar Eclipse that happened to fall on the Winter Solstice. December 21st is the shortest day of the year – the day with the most darkness. So to have a full moon darkened on that same night... is a notable coincidence. Something that doesn't happen too often. Some even called it the “darkest day in 456 years”.

We learn very early about darkness, and often we learn to fear it. Things that go bump in the night – you can't see them when it's dark. In the darkness is the unknown, and the unknown brings fear.

But even as adults darkness is a universal metaphor for uncertainty, hopelessness, and when you get down to it – death and sin. What is darker than the grave? What is darker than the sins that bring us there?

The people of Isaiah's day knew darkness – the Assyrians and Babylonians would wreak havoc on Israel and Judah. Terrible times that brought not only war and bloodshed, but also a great crisis of faith for God's people. Where was he in all this? Where were his promises? Didn't he say that Abraham's descendants would inherit this land? Didn't he promise that David's house would reign forever? Didn't he promise us a land flowing with milk and honey? But now we are stripped from our land, exiled far away, and living as aliens in a land of pagans and foreigners. Dark days for God's people, indeed.

It's that time of year now when we look back and reflect on the year gone by. We too, might wonder where God was in our lives, especially if 2010 brought more “darkness” than most years. Perhaps you've lost a job, or a loved one. Perhaps you've battled some illness or condition. Maybe you saw a relationship fall apart – or just become more and more strained. Certainly it wasn't the Assyrians and Babylonians that troubled you, but each life brings darkness.

Or maybe you continued to struggle with the darkness of your own soul. What dark deeds have haunted you? What sinful lusts or selfish desires? What bitterness do you carry? Or is your darkness a jaded cynicism? Nothing is good or worth bothering with. The darkness can have its way. The world is done for. I'm done for.

But God breaks into our darkness. The same God who hovered over the dark waters of his creation and said, “let there be light”. The same God who set the Sun and Moon and Stars in their places. The same God who spoke to Moses in a burning bush and led his people through the wilderness in a fiery pillar. He brings light. He brings light to people lost and wandering in the dark. He brings a dawn to those who believe the night will never end. He brings joy to those in misery, hope to those in despair. Even to the dead he brings life.

To the people of Isaiah's day, a promise was given. That a child would be born, a son would be given. This Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.... he would bring end to the warfare, release to the captive, and righteousness and justice for all. He, the promised deliverer, would bring light to the people who walked in darkness and dwelt in deep darkness.

We know him too. He is Christ, our Lord. He is the Light of the World. He is the Light of Light, God of God, Very God of Very God. He is the agent of creation – by him all things were made – even light itself. And now this Light from God has dawned upon our world. He shines through the darkness of the dark Judean night. He shines through the millenia and still brings us light today.

What better light for our darkness than the light of Christ? His dark day of suffering on the cross, and his bright morning of Easter resurrection bring wash us in the light of God's love and forgiveness. In Christ, a new day dawns for his people – the darkness has no more say in our lives. We need never wonder or worry or fear – for he has shined even into the darkness of hell itself – declaring his victory over the dark dreaded foe.

On this holy night – tune in, for a bit, to the darkness. Remember the darkness from whence he calls you – the darkness of this world, the darkness of your sins. And then look to the light. Bask in the Light of Light who brightens it . Christ dawns on your soul – in his word – in his true body and blood – by his Spirit. He enlightens and sanctifies you in his grace and truth.

And we share that light. As is our tradition here, we will use these candles to spread a flame – a light – from the Christ candle and to everyone here. Let this light remind you of the true Light that is Jesus Christ. The child born to us to bring us out of the darkness, now and forever. We receive him, and we share him with those around us, we share his light and love with family, friends, neighbors, even our enemies.

For he is the Son of God, Love's Pure light. Born for us, died for us, and lives for us forever. In His Name, Amen.

Sermon - Matthew 1:18-25 - Advent 4

Matthew 1:18-25
Advent 4
December 19th, 2010
“He will Save His People”

You will call his name Jesus, because he will teach his people how to live holy lives? No. You will call him Jesus, because he will be a great example of righteousness for people to follow? No. You will call him Jesus, because he will show you the way to please God and earn your salvation? No. You shall call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sin. That's it!

We've heard from John the Baptist – proclaiming Christ in boldness, and questioning him from prison – We've seen Mary and Elizabeth and Zechariah – all part of the unfolding story of Jesus' birth. And now we hear what the angel said to Joseph.

You can imagine, perhaps, what Joseph was going through. He was just beginning this new phase of his life. He had been betrothed to Mary – a fellow descendant of David and a godly woman. Betrothal, in those days, was much more than what we know as being “engaged”. Joseph and Mary were legally married – but in this initial stage of marriage, there was no consummation. That would usually happen after about a year of betrothal.

So you can see why, when Joseph finds out she's pregnant, he naturally assumes the worst – that Mary was unfaithful and – and decides to divorce her. Quietly – because he was a righteous man – but divorce her nonetheless.

But God intervenes. He sends a messenger, an angel, with an important explanation. Joseph is convinced. Like Mary, he receives the word of the angel in faith. And the marriage is saved. And all is now ready for the birth of the Christ.

God always tends to the details. He either guides the events of history from behind the scenes, uses the happenings of this life for his purposes, or even steps in noticeably when he needs to – miraculously, even – to make sure his will is done. And the important part of that will has to do with Christ.

Since man's exile from Eden, God had promised a savior. He preserved that promise through wars and famines and calamities of all kinds. He used the twists and turns of his people's lives, their relationships, even their sins – to preserve his promise and bring about this day – when His own son would be born of a woman. Everything fell into place just as he promised, and just as he planned.

It must have seemed to Joseph that the rug was pulled out from under him. His exciting new endeavor of marriage was tainted. Mary wasn't who he thought she was. What was pure had been polluted. But oh, how God sees things differently.

In Mary, who was a sinner like Jospeh and like all of us, nonetheless in her womb now grew the sinless Son of God. Joseph's life wasn't being ruined here, it was being saved in a more profound way than he even knew. And the marriage of Joseph and Mary would be saved even as True Bridegroom was about to visit his Bride in person – yes, Christ would come to his people. Immanuel – God with us.

But best of all, this long-expected child would save his people from their sin. That's why Jesus is born. That's why he came. That's why we celebrate Christmas. It's not even so much that in Christ, God is with us – it's that God is with us to save us from sin!

Whatever Joseph thought his problems were, the angel set him straight. Sin is the problem. Sin is always the problem, for all people. And Jesus, this child of the virgin, is the only answer.

There's no shortage of opinions today on what the birth of Christ meant or means. For some it's as shallow as a Hallmark card, peace, love and goodwill. For others it's as fleeting as a warm fuzzy feeling that, even for a moment, brings back fond childhood memories. And for others its a sense of self-satisfaction about being kind and generous to others.

But the Angel says it best. He's Jesus. He's here to save us from our sins! That's it! That's the point!

Listen to that angelic message closely today. Whatever is going on in your life – don't miss out on what God has done, and is doing for you in Christ. Don't forget who this child is and what he has done and what it means for you. He's Jesus!

Joseph and Mary had a tough road ahead of them – and I don't just mean the trek to Bethlehem. Joseph would work as a carpenter and earn his daily bread. Mary would endure the questions to her character, and the inconvenience of raising a child on the run, even to Egypt. And later, after Joseph is gone, she would suffer the horror of watching her own son die, crucified as a criminal. But even here, especially here, he is Jesus. He is saving his people from their sin.

It's not pretty. It's not soft and warm and sanitized. Salvation comes in the blood and sweat and anguish of God's Son and Mary's Son. It's all the ugliness of sin wrapped up into one body – and that body bearing the full force of sin's wages for all.

There is no Christmas without Christ. And there is no Christ without the cross. There's no manger scene apart from a crucifix. No Bethlehem without Jerusalem. No savior born unless he is born to die. And there is no salvation for sinners like you and me, without Christ crucified for sinners like you and me.

And of course, the cross of Christ means nothing without the resurrection of Christ. So Christmas and Good Friday and Easter – all speak the same to us: Jesus. He who saves us, his people, from our sins. And here is our true Christmas joy. Here Joseph's Savior, Mary's Savior, everyone's Savior – in Jesus. Immanuel. God with us.

Advent now closes. Christmas is almost here. And we are prepared to celebrate his birth because we know who he is. He is Jesus. He's our Savior from sin. Believe in him always! Amen.

Sermon - Matthew 11:2-15 - Advent 3

Matthew 11:2-15
Advent 3
December 12th, 2010
“Look, Listen”

Last week we saw John the Baptist at the peak of his ministry – baptizing crowds and calling out Pharisees. Today, we read a bit further in Matthew's Gospel, and John's in a much different place. Prison, in fact. He had criticized King Herod, who had taken his brother's wife, and didn't take kindly to John's finger-pointing. John's hopes for release were slim. And we all know what John's fate would soon be – beheaded at a grizzly birthday party for the king. In the valley of the shadow of death – John sends his followers to ask Jesus, “are you the one, or shall we look for another?”

Today, we light that pink candle in our Advent wreath. It's often called the “shepherds candle” or the candle of Joy. This season of preparation evokes in us many and varied responses – and joy should be one of them. For like the shepherds who first heard the news of Christ's birth, we too believe he is the one who is to come. The Savior who brings peace on earth and God's good will toward man. We have joy, even in our expectation of Christmas. But then there's John, sitting in prison....

John must have looked around his prison cell, and found it a rather joy-less place. We can only imagine what it was like. Probably not the clean and sterile institutional setting of today's prisons – you might imagine a rat scurrying here or there. It was probably a dark place without much sunlight – figurative or literal.

And if we think about what John might have heard in his prison, perhaps it was the moaning of other prisoners. The jingling of jailers' keys. The sharpening of their axes. Or even the silence of his own isolation. In any case, nothing to be joyful about. A man sitting, thinking, alone with his thoughts, and perhaps his doubts.

We can relate. As we look around, and listen – what do we hear this Advent season?

We might look around at the decorations, the bright lights and greenery. We might see the gleaming snow and the cheery red cheeks of well-wishers. We might see joy on the surface. But a closer look reveals that all is not right with this world. Sin doesn't stop for the holidays. People don't stop being people just because it's December. In some ways, the stress of the season makes us even more miserable – or makes us miserable to be around. We are busy and preoccupied. We are worried and harried. We'd like to take time to reflect on the deeper meaning of it all – but we're so easily distracted by the sights and sounds, or by the worries and cares.

Or perhaps you're more like John, sitting alone with his thoughts. Maybe loneliness or the grief of a lost loved one is your constant companion in this jingle-belled jailhouse. You sit there looking at everyone on the outside going on with life as usual – happy and cheerful it seems, but you're stuck in a place that seems hopeless and joyless.

Give John this. At least his unbelief still had some belief. In the depths of his doubt, in the dark hour of his coming demise, he reaches to Jesus through his disciples. He longs to hear a word of hope. He wants to be re-assured that Jesus really is the one.

And you can say, “What a doubter! Wasn't this the same John who boldly proclaimed Jesus the Lamb of God? Who baptized him and heard the voice and saw heaven open and the dove come down?” Yes. Isn't this the same John of whom Jesus said, “among those born of women, none is greater than John?” Yes. But even the greatest of us still needs the word of Christ. Even the most faithful, the most bold and the strongest Christians need the Gospel. We all face times of joy-less-ness in our messy prison of sin. We all need to be lifted up, to see and hear....

And Jesus delivers. He sends the message back. Not a promise of earthly deliverance. No get out of jail free card. But a better answer than John could have hoped for. “Look around, John. Listen, John”.

What you see – the signs of the Messiah. The miracles of Jesus point to who he is. Healings and wonders were his calling cards, meant to point to something even greater. Notice the climax of the answer isn't even the raising of the dead. It's that the good news is preached to the poor.

What do you see? What do you hear? When it comes to Jesus – what we see and hear is good news.

John must have found it hard to be joyful in prison, for what he saw and heard was so dismal. But take a look at Calvary. On that dark day, on a hill far away, with suffering and shame on display. Take a look at the bloody, beaten, humiliated man wearing a thorny crown and nailed to an instrument of death. And listen to them jeering and mocking and spitting. See his disciples deserting him, and the soldiers surrounding him, casting lots for his clothing. And hear the women weeping and the silence of God as his own Son suffers.

And then hear these words: “It is finished”.

And then look – and see what is not there. He has burst the bonds of death. The prison of his tomb is left, door wide open. And hear the words of angels, “He is risen!”.

If you're like John, stuck in the prison of your sins and the broken sinful prison of life around you. If you're looking for a word of encouragement – a word of joy. Look, and listen. Don't just look to the bright lights, and listen only to the carols piped into the shopping malls. Look to Jesus. Listen to Jesus. Look to his cross and empty tomb. Listen to his promising word, and hear his absolution.

You may not be set free from prison, healed, or granted a miracle. Indeed, like John, you may even face death. But you will know the good news of his truth. And even if you die, you will live. And even in your suffering, you will find joy in him.

For you will look and listen with the eyes and ears of faith – and see a whole different reality. He who has eyes to see, let him see Jesus. He who has ears, let him hear Jesus. In his name, Amen.

Walther "Checklist"

Recently, a Lutheran discussion forum mentioned this document by C.F.W. Walther:

"The Proper Form of an Evangelical Lutheran Congregation Independent of the State"

I set out to create an even shorter outline, or "checklist" for evaluating congregational practice according to Walther's "purpose and form". Here it is:
___________________________________________________________________________________

Adapted from, “The Proper Form of an Evangelical Lutheran Congregation” by C.F.W. Walther

A. Congregational Meetings

B. The Word of God dwells richly

C. Purity of Doctrine/Life and Discipline

D. Temporal Welfare of Members

E. Decently and in Good Order

F. Unity with other Local Congregations

G. The Church at Large


More specifically:

A. Congregational Meetings
1.Public
2.Encourage Participation
3.Officers
4.Proper Business – Doctrine, Officers, Discipline, Good Order
5.All decisions in accord with the Word. Adiaphora by vote
6.No shows don't vote – Major decisions are confirmed later
7.Careful minutes recorded
8.Opened and closed with prayer

B. The Word of God dwells richly
1.Establish/Maintain Office of Holy Ministry
2.Proper Call (process) of Pastor
3.Public Services of Worship
4.Baptism, Communion, Pastoral Care, Funerals
5.Establish a School
6.No Conventicles

C. Purity of Doctrine/Life and Discipline
1.All members strive to grow in the Word
2.Establish officers to assist the Pastor (Elders)
3.Use only pure books and ceremonies
4.Admits new members properly
5.Formal Church Discipline
6.Deposing Pastors – only properly!
7.No toleration of Syncretism or Unionism

D. Temporal Welfare of Members
1.Provide for the Pastor
2.Provide for the poor, widow, orphan, aged and infirm
3.Care for the sick
4.Bury the dead – even the poor

E. Decently and in Good Order
1.Pastor records membership and pastoral acts
2.Secretary keeps congregational documents
3.A Treasurer – monthly reports – auditing
4.Almoners appointed to care for poor
5.Acquire and maintain property
6.Items/Equipment necessary for Public Service
7.Meeting times strictly enforced
8.No precipitous votes
9.Majority should yield to minority in some cases
10.One speaker at a time
11.Proper voting procedures
12.Written reports
13.Written description of congregational offices
14.Constitutions may be amended, except regarding Word of God
15.Each member contributes according to conscience

F. Unity with other Local Congregations
1.Pray for all the saints
2.Endeavor to be at one with other true Lutheran congregations
3.Agree with other congregations regarding “territory”
4.Honor and issue transfers
5.Do not receive excommunicated members from orthodox congregations
6.Receive those wrongfully excommunicated
7.Consent to calling of pastors between congregations
8.Seek advice from and advise sister congregations
9.Assist sister congregations in distress
10.Allow its pastor to serve a sister congregation in vacancy

G. The Church at Large
1.Encourage young men to become pastors
2.Provide support for Gospel work “Bread of Life”
3.Distribution of Bibles
4.Join in mission work
5.Unite with Lutherans in our country to build the Kingdom

Sermon - Matthew 3:1-12 - Advent 2

Matthew 3:1-12
Advent 2
December 5th, 2010
“Sticks and Stones”

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.” So the parental wisdom goes. Most of us have been called names at some point in our lives, and maybe it's not so easy to brush it off. Part of the reason we call people names is because it does hurt – and it often contains bitter truth. Whether they called you four-eyes or shorty or fatso, whether the names were a schoolyard taunt or a calculated adult insult.... in some ways, sticks and stones would hurt less than the names that we are called, and that we call each other.

It's not very nice, is it, to call someone a name? It's not very Christian-like, is it? Would someone tell that to John the Baptist? In our Gospel reading today, he calls those pharisees a “brood of vipers”. You're a bunch of slithering snakes! And he implies that they are withered old trees that are good for nothing except to be chopped down and burned. Yes, John makes no bones about calling them names. Not very nice. Not very politically correct. But very, very Christian.

Even Jesus was a name-caller. He called those same pharisees “hypocrites” and “white-washed tombs”. He continually called them out in his parables and his teaching. He was just as fierce as John the Baptist in pointing the accusing finger. And if the names don't hurt enough, Jesus even fashioned a whip to clear out the temple from the “den of thieves” as he called them.

John, I think, gets a bad rap as a fire-and-brimstone preacher. He was really, essentially, no different than Jesus in this way. Jesus, too, taught a harsh word of law. He called people the names they deserved. And the truth hurts.

And your pastors do the same. Maybe we're a little less brazen about it, but every Sunday when you come here, we call you names. We call you “sinner”. Of course, we call ourselves that, too. But that shouldn't blunt the force of the blow.

Perhaps we've grown so accustomed to that name, “sinner” that it doesn't hurt anymore. Perhaps it doesn't even phase us. Some people outside the church would bristle at such an accusation. “I am NOT a sinner! I'm a good person! I do what I'm supposed to do. God knows I mean well. Don't you judge me, you Christian.”
Well if you think like that too, all I can say is what John said. “Repent! The kingdom of Heaven is at hand!”

The truth hurts, and it should. We are sinners. We're no better than the brood of vipers, the white-washed tombs, the den of thieves. Are you a liar, a gossiper, a drunk, a cheater? A lazy, mean, pride-filled so-and-so? Pick the name that fits you, or have a few. It's not just “sinner” in general – it's the specific sins, too. You have yours, and I have mine.

And they hurt us more than sticks and stones. They kill us. They bring suffering and death. For all the excuses and justifications we bring, we can't escape the wages of our sin. We know our name – and it is mud. Sin has our number.

But then.... then there's that other name. The name that Jesus calls us. The name that is foreign to us, a new - adopted name. Not the name of our birth, but of our second birth. The name we receive when our sins our washed away. A Triune name that is upon us, and into which we are baptized. A name that matters more than the name of “sinner”. A name that makes our old name irrelevant.

The sticks and stones of sinful names hurt us, but life and salvation come in Jesus' name. Forgiveness comes in that new name – the new birth in him.

For he conquered our sin with two sticks – fashioned in the shape of a cross. And he vanquished death with a stone, rolled away from his tomb. And in his resurrection, we see our future – and in his reign from heaven he prepares a place for us. An inheritance – waiting with our name on it. A book of life, in which our names are written.

John prepares the way by calling sinners what they are – sinners. And by calling them to repent. And by washing their sins away. Jesus is the way who called sinners what they were, called them to repent, and won for them a new name.

Today, you are a sinner, and the pastor is calling you to confess your sins and repent. But he's also calling you to believe. Believe in the Christ who came to win you back from sin. Believe in the Christ who died and rose for you. Believe in the Christ who gives you a new name in Baptism.

Names can hurt you, especially when they are true. Sticks and stones can break your bones, and even kill you. But his gracious word of promise brings you forgiveness, life and salvation. Thank God for calling us by His name, in Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.