Sermon - John 9:1-41

Lent 4

March 30^th, 2014

John 9:1-41

Our Savior Lutheran Church, Whitefish Bay, WI

It is part and parcel of our sinful nature to get things wrong. Turned around. Backwards, even.

We make ourselves God, and try to make God answer to us. We tell ourselves that God somehow owes us, and we live in denial that we owe him everything and more. We think we please him with our good works, rather than trust that Christ has pleased God with his good work for us.

We have a keen sense of justice when we are wronged, but are quite lax and flexible with the law applied to ourselves. We selectively apply the rules of politeness, kindness, and regard for our neighbor. We know our neighbor's sins all too well, especially those sins against us. But when we sin, we are quick with excuses and rationalizations.

We think we know, when we are ignorant. We think we hear, when we are really deaf. We think we see, when we are truly blind.

The Pharisees were no different. Oh, their pride. “You were steeped in sin at birth, and you would teach us!” We are the teachers of Israel! We are the children of Abraham! We are the disciples of Moses! We are the ones who keep the 613 laws! We are the clean, and you are the unclean. We give to the temple treasury (didn't you hear the trumpets?) We aren't like those sinners – those prostitutes and tax collectors, those lepers and outcasts. We're not steeped in sin like this man born blind. And we would never do work on the Sabbath, like that sinner, Jesus.

And so such spiritual chest-thumping goes. But it is madness, and blindness. And it is us.

We are all the man born blind. We are all conceived and steeped in sin. We are all children of our father, Adam. We are sinners who sin, who can see only own spiritual navels, curved in on ourselves, who cannot see God. We are all the pharisees, blind to our blindness, but convinced we see it all, know it all. We think the good people prosper, or deserve to. And that the bad people suffer, and deserve to. And of course, we are good.

It is part and parcel of our sinful nature to get things wrong. Turned around. Backwards, even.

But God's way is different. Mysterious to us. But far better, in fact, divine.

One seminary professor, Dr. David Scaer, puts it this way:

“...The divine economy is different from ours. You cannot come to a conclusion about the morality and sanctity of any person by the amount of suffering he has experienced. The suffering sinner turns out to be God’s saint and the hawkers of holiness are rejected by God…Human suffering is not only an opportunity for God to show that He is and remains the creator; human suffering is the place where God shows His glory. Jesus dies so that through the resurrection God might finally demonstrate to the world who He really is. The Son of Man is lifted up so that all men may be drawn to him, not in the magnificence of creation, but in the glory of the suffering of the cross…God approaches us through what we find reprehensible.”

It is in Jesus that all of this senselessness makes divine sense.

So Jesus is the light. Jesus came to take the darkness away. He makes night into day. He makes blind men see.

No one has seen God except He who came from God. But in Jesus Christ, we do see God. No one comes to the Father but by Jesus. But Jesus is the perfect image of the Father, the exact representation of God, for He is one with the Father, and He is True God from eternity.

Jesus came into the darkness, born under the law, to redeem us under the law. In the dark Judean night, the Light dawned. And on a dark, but good Friday, when the sun was blotted out and the Lord of Life hung on a cross, dying... salvation came to light. It was finished, then and there, for all, forever.

And so this one “Sent by God”, sends the blind man to the pool of Siloam, which means, “Sent by God”. No matter that it was the Sabbath, for Jesus is Lord of the Sabbath. Jesus is the Sabbath-rest of God, who gives us rest from our sins. He who washed the blindness away for that man, also washes us clean and new in Holy Baptism. And the scales fall from our spiritual eyes, as faith comes, and we see and believe.

The little pharisee in our heart finds it hard to believe. But the eyes of faith see it plainly. The Old Adam in us fights against it. But Christian baptism drowns that one daily, in repentance and faith. And so it goes – and so it goes, as the old and the new continue to struggle and muddle through this life, growing in faith toward God and love toward neighbor, but always in Christ, always looking to his light, the only way we can see.

You have seen him, but with the eyes of faith. You see him in his word. You see him at the font. You see him on the altar, under bread and wine. You see him who speaks to you, and faith says, “I believe.” So turn your eyes away from your neighbor's sin, and forgive freely. And turn to see your own sin, yes, but fix your eyes on Jesus, who takes that sin to the cross. In him, we see forgiveness, life, salvation, and the peace of God which passes all understanding. May it guard and keep your hearts and minds in Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Sermon - Epiphany 5 - Matthew 5:17-

Grace and Trinity Lutheran Churches

Bear Creek, WI

Epiphany 5

February 9^th, 2014

Matthew 5:17-20

“All Righteousness??”

17 p“Do not think that I have come to abolish qthe Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but rto fulfill them. 18 For truly, I say to you, suntil heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. 19 tTherefore whoever relaxes uone of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least vin the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great vin the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds wthat of the scribes and Pharisees, you xwill never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Jesus' Sermon on the Mount continues this week. I want to focus on the second portion of our reading today, in which Jesus explains more about his purpose. It seems an Epiphany question, as the unpacking of “Who is this Jesus?” continues. He's the bridegroom at the wedding of Cana. He's the Son of God at his baptism. He's the glory of Israel and light to the nations in the arms of Simeon. He's the one who comes to preach good news to the poor. And now we see more of why he came – not to abolish the Old Testament, but to fulfill it.

Starting out, Jesus puts away the silly idea that still persists today – that the New Testament somehow invalidates the Old. I heard a famous atheist scientist, Bill Nye, imply this just this past week. But the Christian church has struggled to stamp out this false idea. There was a false teacher named Marcion in the early church who believed the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New Testament were essentially two different people. But the church, and the Lord of the church would disagree. Jesus himself says of the Old Testament scriptures, “These are they that testify to me”. It's a bold claim. “The whole Old Testament is about me. And I've come to fulfill, not abolish it.”

There's much to learn here for us. We can't set Christ against his own word. We can't cherry pick the verses we like and dismiss the rest. And we can't re-make God into our own image, or any old image we want. But even more specifically, Jesus gets to the laws and commandments of the Old Testament – which many would turn aside and disregard today, too.

Certainly, we don't perform the ceremonial laws anymore. The sacrifices culminated in Christ's once and for all sacrifice. The temple curtain was torn in two. Jesus is now our temple, our dwelling of God with man, and in Him we have access to the Father. We don't regard the clean and unclean food laws and such – Acts makes this much clear. Christ has fulfilled the ceremonial law.

What then of the moral law? The Ten Commandments, for instance? We can see that these are still in full force. And in this very Sermon on the Mount, Jesus instead of diminishing the moral law, raises the bar of its demands. Don't murder? I say don't even be angry. Don't commit adultery? If you do it in your heart, you're just as guilty.

And here's where it starts to get uncomfortable for us. Jesus didn't come to take the law away. He didn't come to make it OK for us to sin however we'd like. He didn't come to abolish the ten commandments. Instead, he is an extremist when it comes to the law. He says you can't even relax the least of the commandments. And if that's true, we sinners, even we Christians, have some explaining to do.

Do you relax his law? I know I do. Have NO other gods, oh but we have our other gods, don't we. We think maybe if we have God somewhere in the mix that's good enough. But the first commandment is all or nothing, and we fall on the side of nothing.

Do you disregard his holy name? Not just do you curse, swear, lie or deceive, but do you hold his teaching, his word about himself as dear as you should?

What about your neighbor? You know the commandment about our parents doesn't get easier when we are grown-ups, because all earthly authority comes in here. And which one of us hasn't balked at a boss, or disrespected our governing authorities as the representatives of God? Which sinner among us humbly submits to those who are over us in all aspects of life? Instead we instinctively rebel, “who are you to tell me what to do?” “Things would be so different if I was in charge around here”.

I'll leave the fifth and sixth commandments for next week's reading, but what about stealing? It's far broader than just taking something from someone else – but it goes to even trying to get things in a dishonest or deceptive way.

And when it comes to your neighbors good name – well there's a reason the Epistle of James compares the tongue to a fire and a wild beast. We are very good at cloaking our gossip in a facade of genuine concern. We are quick with a snarky taunt and slow with a kind, loving word. We fail to speak up when we should, and much of what we say is better left unsaid. There is little righteousness here, either.

And the commands not to covet leave us nowhere to hide. In the secret places of the heart, who hasn't sinfully desired something of his neighbors? Petty human jealousies, greed for goodies, and want of what's not mine.

We could go on... but to summarize, Jesus says you won't even enter the kingdom unless your righteousness exceeds that of the Pharisees. Again, he raises the bar. For the pharisees were the good Jews who followed all the laws, they were the most righteous, the most holy, the moral example par excellence' , or so one might think. It might be like Jesus saying to you today, that you can't enter his kingdom unless you are more holy than a saint, do more good works than Mother Theresa, and are a better theologian than Pastor Ruesch. Only the best of the best, the one without spot or blemish – the perfectly perfect – can do it. Which means only Christ can do it. Thanks be to God that he has, and has done it for us.

Christ fulfills the ceremonial law for us. He comes, not to take away the rules and laws we can't follow, but to be the perfect sacrifice for our sins. He comes, not to make help us help ourselves to be righteous, but to be our righteousness. He is the Lamb, not just of the passover, but the lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world. He is the priest, not just who sprinkles the blood of an animal, but the high priest who sheds his own blood. He is the presence of God, not just over the ark or in the cloudy pillar, but in the very human flesh he comes to make righteous. God with man in the God-man himself. He makes not just lepers clean, but he renews all creation. He is the one, the one, that God's people waited for those many, many years.

And he fulfills the moral law, too. He keeps the commandments that we cannot and do not. He has no other Gods. He keeps God's name holy. He is Lord of the Sabbath. He honors his Father and mother. He does not murder, but always helps. He is ever faithful to his bride the church. He never wants or take what isn't his, and always speaks well, speaks truth, speaks love. What would Jesus do? He would keep every law perfectly, every jot and tittle. He had only pure and holy thoughts, words, deeds. He didn't sin by what he did, or by leaving anything undone. He alone was not worthy of temporal and eternal punishment.

Therefore whoever relaxes uone of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least vin the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great vin the kingdom of heaven

Greatest in the kingdom is Christ – he who made himself least, servant of all, servant of yours. He who did not deserve death but submitted to the cross in your place. He who did not deserve his Father's wrath, but stepped in the way to shield you from being consumed by its wrath.

Jesus fulfills the law and the prophets for us. Jesus fulfills all righteousness for us. And his righteousness alone is sufficient for us to enter his kingdom. But it is sufficient, thanks be to God!

What a mystery Jesus lays out in this section of the Sermon on the Mount. A call for extreme righteousness, that at first might leave us all without hope, for we sinners sin much. But the one who demands it is the one who provides it, and in Christ, we see our righteousness – ALL righteousness – fulfilled. And through him we enter the kingdom. Through him, in him, we are righteous.

Sermon - The Epiphany of Our Lord - Matthew 2:1-12

Epiphany (Observed)

January 5^th, 2014

Matthew 2:1-12

Grace and peace...

As we observe this Feast of the Epiphany of our Lord, what better time to have a missions emphasis? I understand there's a lot of support for foreign missions around here, as you pastor has already told me about some of the medical mercy work being done in Madagascar. Well, today I thank you for the invitation to come and share with you first of all the Word, and a little about my work in Singapore.

Epiphany – the Christmas of the Gentiles. Epiphany – the season of light, the word “epiphany” meaning “appearance” or “manifestation” or “revealing”. It is the “appearance of our Lord” or the “revealing of our Lord”. It is the third part of the larger Christmas season of the church – Advent, which anticipates his birth, Christmas proper, which marks it – and Epiphany, which unpacks the meaning and significance of the One born in Bethlehem.

And there is so much rich meaning in this text from Matthew alone. Bethlehem, for instance, which means “house of bread”. And it is here that the Bread of Life would make his appearance.

The star – a mystery – what was it? A comet? A supernova? An angel? Angels are symbolized as stars elsewhere in Scripture and here the star has the same function – as a messenger, leading people to Christ, the Word made flesh. Just as prophets and evangelists and pastors are “stars” and “angels” in the same way – leading you to, proclaiming to you the word of Christ, the good news of his salvation.

And then there's Herod. How God uses wicked men even in spite of themselves, as he works all things together for the good of those who love him. This king, and all earthly kings, must bow to the king of kings. Herod, who shed the blood of the Holy Innocents, but could not find Jesus. And Jesus would one day stand innocent and silent before another Herod on the day he was crucified for the sins of both Herods and for all wicked men, including you and me.

Wickedness and darkness go together. Light and life go together. For those of us born into sin and death, our old nature likes the darkness. Sin thrives in the darkness, where it thinks it can hide. Who wants the spotlight focused on his sins? Who wants his deep dark secrets dragged out into the light of day? Imagine if your worst offenses were read aloud here in church for all to hear? You did what? Gasp. Horror. No, we like our sins in the dark, where we can pretend they don't matter, and that no one will see. But God can see all. The perfect judge won't let us get away with it.

He could sentence us, for we are guilty. But instead he sends this babe. This innocent one. His own Son. And in this blessed child, the darkness is swallowed up in light, for he is indeed the Light of the World. This Light shines in the darkness and yet the darkness does not understand. This Light chases away the darkness, and puts to death all death lurking there. The Light of Christ brings life and immortality to light for all who trust in him, and so we are not lumped with wicked Herod but counted innocent in Christ.

And then of course, the wise men from the East. Not even necessarily just three of them, there may have been more! We only know the three gifts they brought. Probably not kings themselves, but more likely stargazers. How had they learned of this prophecy? Remember the Jews were captive in Babylon for 80 years. So perhaps they even knew their Old Testament. But no matter, what matters not is who they are and how they knew, but that they were called, and who they came to see. Just as they could never have found Jesus on their own, so are you and I lost on our own. I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in my Lord Jesus Christ or come to him, but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel and enlightened me with his gifts....

His gifts... not gifts of Gold, Frankincense and Myrrh. Gifts of forgiveness and blessing. Gifts revealed and manifest in the Babe of Bethlehem and the Christ of the Cross. Gifts applied in the word spoken by heaven's highest angels and by Earth's lowliest preachers. Gifts for the Jews who waited millennia, and the Gentiles who sat in darkness all those years. Gifts more precious than gold, sweeter-smelling than frankincense, more valuable than myrrh. The blood of the lamb, holy and precious, shed for us all, to make us holy and precious.

In view of all of this, as a result of all of this, because of the gifts he gives so richly, we bow before him and bring ours in return. Paltry though they are, like the little drummer boy, even our gold pales in comparison. This is not an even swap, or quid-pro-quo. We are beggars made millionaires whose repayment isn't even a dime. But worship we must, and serve our neighbor we so desire. We have been so loved and served in Christ, how can we not love and serve as we are called?

One of the best ways we can serve our neighbor is by sharing the hope within us. By pointing like that guiding star to the manger and the cross. By doing what we can to further the work of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in our world. And we can do it so many ways. We do it by our silent witness to the world – loving neighbors with no strings attached. Mercy shown to the lowly, for mercy has been shown to us. We do it by giving answer when asked the hope within us – “what is it that makes you tick?”, “ Why that's Jesus Christ, who saves me by grace.” And we love and serve our neighbor when we support the preaching of Christ here at home and to the ends of the earth.

Today, instead of wise men from the East, you have a simple pastor called to serve in the far east. I would bring you no other gift than that which I have received – the message of Christ crucified for sinners like you and me. It is the same message I am called to preach in Singapore – where the Christians are fewer and the need for Christ's gifts is great. A multi-ethnic city-state of 5.5 million souls, Singapore is another field ready for the Lord's harvest. As I have already begun to gather those who would hear, so we plan to establish a congregation there that will gather regularly to receive the gifts of Christ in Word and Washing and Meal. His appearance and manifestation will continue under these humble forms, just as it does here, week in and week out. And as it has throughout these latter days. And as it will until his Great Epiphany, his final appearance in glory on the last day.

As we enter the Epiphany season, let us join the wise men at Bethlehem, and receive the gift of Christ anew. As he is revealed to us, may his Spirit empower us to be faithful in all things, and to share the gifts and the Gift.   

Sermon - Christmas Day - John 1:1-18

And the Word became flesh. 

Just let that sink in for a moment. 

The Word. The living Word of God. The eternal Word of God. The Word of creation, by whom all things were made. The Word that called light out of darkness, and ordered all things. The everlasting, all-transcendent, mysterious and holy Word of God... became flesh. And that word made flesh dwelled among us. We know him as Jesus Christ.

A merry and blessed Christmas to you all. It's a special joy for me to be home for the holidays. After my fall tour of duty in Singapore, laying the groundwork for our permanent move, it is good to dwell among you once again here at Grace. I want to thank you for your support so far in my mission work. It's been a joy and a challenge to build my support network and begin to get things going with our new congregation. I appreciate all your prayers and encouragement, and even as I'm mostly gone, Brenda and the girls keep me feeling connected here, and I still consider Grace my home.

I've preached on this text from John here before. I even recall one year having lost my voice, and whispering the entire sermon one Christmas day. And while the reading from Luke 2 is what we mostly associate with Christmas – the story of the angels and shepherds, the birth of the Christ in Bethlehem, this reading from John is really a more “theological” approach to the Christmas story. What does it mean that Christ was born? Mary treasured the events of the nativity in her heart. But John draws us to meditate on Christmas also with our head. The Word became flesh and dwelled among us. The light has dawned in the darkness. We have seen his glory. And in him, and only in him, we see God.

It's profound. Simple, in a way. These first words of John's gospel are the passage most new students of Biblical Greek learn to translate – en archa en ho logos, en ho logos ein theos. But in these simple words, so much depth, so much mystery. John begins his Gospel the same way Genesis begins the Bible - “In the beginning”. And he connects the Word of creation with the Word of redemption – the word that was and is God. The word that is Christ.

The Word of God. We say that phrase, and we usually mean a book – the Bible. 66 books, an Old and New Testament. The authoritative source and norm of all our doctrine and life. But the Bible itself is nothing without Christ. In fact it is Jesus that teaches us of the Scriptures, “These are they that testify to me”. So from the first “in the beginning” to the promise of one to crush the serpent's head. To the promise of blessing to Abraham and the patriarchs, to the Exodus from Egypt. The sacrificial system, the commandments, the ark, the manna in the wilderness. The conquest of the promised land, the rise and fall of Davidic kinds. The words of the prophets, and the expectations of the Messiah – all of it points us forward, drives us toward the one born in Bethlehem, the Savior, Christ the Lord.

And the Apostles and Evangelists, the Epistles and the Revelation also shine the light on the light of the world. They proclaim the good news of his kingdom, and unveil his salvation. They bring us to the cross, where the lamb of God shed his blood for the sins of the world. They direct us to his sacraments – where his word of promise also meets a physical form – water, bread, wine – and forgiveness of sins is realized and applied. The Word of God, the written word, is inseparable from the Living Word of God in the person of Jesus Christ, the Word made Flesh.

That word is also two-fold. And Christ himself speaks a two-fold word to us. First, a word of law: repent. Be perfect. Love your neighbor. Love God with your whole heart, mind, soul. Lust and anger are adultery and murder. Take the log out of your own eye, sinner. It's a word that stings and cuts, a word that even kills. The letter kills, but the spirit gives life. The law shows our sin. But the Gospel shows our savior. The law comes through Moses, but grace and truth come through Christ.

The Gospel, that other word. The good word, the great good news. That in Jesus Christ, the word made flesh, our sins are forgiven. That his blood shed on the cross has paid the price, bridged the gulf, healed the gaping wound of gangrenous sin and festering death. Now, in Christ, there is only newness of life. A flesh that is healed and resurrected. As good as new, even better. A new life – better even that the newness of a newborn babe.

And as we celebrate the birth of a child, we give thanks for our becoming God's children. In Christ we become children of God, for he is the eternal Son of God. In him we are born anew, not by blood, but in his blood. Not by emerging from the womb again, but being brought forth from the waters of baptism. Born, not by the will of man, but by the will of God – his work, his doing, his grace upon grace poured out on is in Christ.

The word of God, the communication of God to man – is Christ. He is the form and fulness of God's grace to you, the sinner. And this is what Christmas is all about. It's far more than a silent night with cattle lowing, a poor humble baby laid in a manger. It's far more than joyous shepherds and heavenly choirs of angels. It's even more than peace on earth and good will toward man. Christmas is the Word of God becoming flesh, and dwelling among us. Christmas is the beginning of the fulfillment of all the ancient promises of God.

And it is a miracle of pure grace. God, holy God, comes completely of his own accord, from outside of us and far beyond us. He breaks in to our world as an uninvited guest, who is really the owner of the place. No choice or decision or act of man brought him here. He was even born of a virgin, after all. None of us can take any credit for his appearance, any more than we can claim we had a hand in the sun coming up this morning. But quite apart from us, and even in spite of our sins, the light of the world has dawned in Jesus Christ.

Word and light of creation that he is, yet his own creation didn't know him. Corrupt as we were and are, we can't even see the light – apart from his grace. So not only does he break into our darkness, but he gives us eyes to see him. He opens our ears to hear his word, and by his Spirit, faith to believe it. We could no more choose him than we could choose to be born – but this too, he brings and gives and delivers by his grace upon grace. Light to those who sit in darkness and sin. Faith to those who would receive him not. Forgiveness to us, who can only do evil apart from him. And a word to rely on, to believe in, to find hope.

Baby Jesus, born in Bethlehem. Born for you. Born to live for you, born to die for you, born to be resurrected for you, and to reign eternally for you. Even now, he remains the Word of God made flesh – divine, but also human, now glorified, and yet to come in glory.

Jesus is not only the reason for the season, he is the fulness of all seasons, the reason for all rejoicing. He is the content and source of our life, the author and perfecter of our faith. He is the agent of creation, and the one for redeems it and makes all things new. He is the crux of history, and his cross the cross-roads of all existence. And Bethlehem is the first step on the way to Calvary.

The word became flesh and dwelled among us. Thanks be to God - for grace upon grace received, and God the Father made known...at the incarnation of Christ. For the light that has dawned upon us who sat in darkness, that even we should be called children of God. In Christ our Lord, Amen.

Now may the peace of God which passes all understanding, but is revealed in the incarnation of Christ our Lord, guard and keep your hearts and minds in Christ – now and always. Amen.  

Lutheran Antinomian Debate - Taking Our Cues from the Text

I don't get as bent out of shape about the vigorous debates amongst some in our circles, but actual enjoy following from the sidelines.  I particularly appreciated Pastor Paul Beisel's recent summary piece here.

But I thought I'd throw my own two cents into the mix, too, finally.  One aspect of this question I haven't often seen emphasized is how we take our cues from the text in question:

I believe this has been mostly a debate about preaching.  How does a preacher best set forth God's Law and Gospel in the course of his sermon, and over the course of many sermons?  Is the old "three point" model still the standard, or should it be used at all?  Can you end a sermon on a "law" note?  And which use of the law and how, or do we "preach a use of the law at all"? I don't have comprehensive answers to these sticky questions, but I do think it helpful to take some cues from the text when considering it all.

For instance, this past Sunday's Gospel reading ended on a "Gospel" note.  There wasn't a lot of (or any, really) paranaesis.  The whole reading was about John's seeming doubts and Christ's merciful action, culminating in the preaching of the good news.  Jesus says, "He who has ears, let him hear".  This is faith talk.  So with a text like this, is it wrong to let the text "lead the way", and if there isn't an emphasis on sanctified living, why shoe-horn it into your sermon?

Likewise, when preaching texts that do emphasize what the Christian life looks like, don't we do better to address those texts fully?  In a careful, Lutheran, Gospel-motivated way, of course.  I suppose those who preach on the Epistles more often would get more practice at this sort of thing.  But even some Gospel readings beg us to address the question, "how then shall we live?"

I suppose it does happen from time to time that the "Gospel" in a text is scant, and the preacher must mine for it or even "import" it.  I appreciate the "Gospel Handles" approach of Rossow on this.  But I don't think we are as compelled to "import" paranaesis into a text.  I'm thinking this has to do with Walther's "letting the Gospel predominate".

Preaching is hard.  I claim no expertise.  In fact I am amazed that God does anything good through me at all.  I appreciate the careful study and intensive discussion of these issues, as I continually seek to get a better "handle" on the task before me each week.

Sermon - Matthew 11:2-15 - Advent 3

Matthew 11:2-15

Advent 3

LCMS Singapore Mission

December 15^th, 2013

Theologians have debated just what is going on with John the Baptist in this passage. On the one hand, here is a great prophet, the last of the prophets, and more than a prophet as Jesus himself testifies. John is the voice crying in the wilderness, the Elijah who was to come, the herald of the Messiah – sent ahead to prepare the way for Christ. John preached a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins, baptized many, and pointed to Christ, “Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (which we sing to this day in our liturgy, when we are about to “behold the lamb of God” in the Sacrament of the Altar). Jesus heaps high praise on John as one of the greatest men ever born. John is surely important, and we naturally remember him during Advent, as we prepare the way for the celebration of Jesus' birth.

But on the other hand, it seems here that John was having a bit of a crisis of faith. And who wouldn't, in his shoes? John sat, rotting in the dungeon of a Herod, locked up for an ancient version of “hate speech” which was really just pointing out the sins of powerful people. In earthly terms, John had little hope, and of course we know how the story goes – John would soon lose his head to the wickedness of spiteful Herodias and cowardly Herod. Evil would seem to triumph. And what was Jesus going to do about it?

Did John waver in his faith? Perhaps yes, perhaps no. So often the Bible doesn't let us in to the inner thoughts of a person's heart, we read only the words and actions. Here John's actions, whatever their motivation, fit well with his whole persona. Whether purposely or in spite of himself, he points people to Christ. He sends his disciples to Christ. He directs them again to the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world.

But is he the one? Or should we look for another? You and I are tempted to look for another Christ, too. And we certainly waver in our faith. We know who the true Christ is, but the sinful nature within us would have us running after other christs – other saviors. A religious leader? A wise mentor? Perhaps.

Or perhaps your Christ is less a person, and more a thing. Do you falsely seek your salvation in the pleasures and distractions of life? Do you deaden the accusation of the law with the club of a twisted rationalization, explaining away your sins to utter irrelevance? Or do you salve your throbbing conscience with the balm of good works, and a full dose of works-righteousness?

All of these false Christs fail us in the end, for they do not solve our problems, for they do not solve our problem... of sin. They are false Christs with a false Gospel. Only the true Christ brings good news to the poor. All those other things- the healings and wonders- are signs, calling cards the Messiah would drop. But the true mark of the true Christ is he brings good news. He is the good news.

True, some are offended because of him. But those who are not, those who have ears to hear this good news – are blessed. For the good news is that he was offended on account of our offenses. He faced death for our murderous lies. He was shamed for our scandalous adulteries. He was crucified by wicked men for our evil ways and humiliated on account of our selfishness and prideful puffery. He is the Christ – seek no other – he brings good news to the poor sinner like you.

Yes, John was quite a spectacle. Funny clothes, a diet that would make for a good cable tv show. An odd fellow living out in the wilderness all alone. But what did all the people go out to see in John? A prophet. What did they go out to hear from John? A message – message of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. A message that would find its fulfillment in the one John wasn't even worthy to untie his sandals.

Like the prophets before him, and like so many witnesses to the Gospel after – John faced foes. The world hates the Christ. They reject his message and kill his messengers. They persecute his church. But do not despair. If you feel trapped in a dungeon of your sins, and know that death is looming, let John point you again to Christ. If you are blind or lame or leprous or deaf, look to Christ for healing more profound than an earthly miracle. If you face death, take courage, for in Christ there is life stronger than death. And if you are poor, a beggar, bringing nothing of value to the king – come and hear the good news from the only one who has it, but gives it freely to the likes of even you and me. 

Christ has come. Christ has died. Christ lives, and Christ will come again! What good news! Believe it for Jesus' sake, amen.

Sermon - Advent 2 - Isaiah 11:1-11

Isaiah 11:1-11

Advent 2

LCMS Singapore Mission

Once there was a tree, a mighty tree. It grew and thrived in the land. The tree was known amongst all the nations for its glory and majesty. The tree stood for its nation, and the people thrived in its shadow. It bore the fruit of peace, and they had rest from their enemies. And it was a godly tree, a tree after God's own heart. A tree that held so much promise. Indeed, the Lord promised that the house of this tree would be established forever.

But there was a rot in the tree. There was a sickness within that would bring death to the tree. Then the tree was cut down. Peace failed. The fruits and leaves withered. And all that was left was a stump. It seemed that all hope was dashed. It seemed that nothing was left but death. A lifeless, worthless stump.

The tree is the house and lineage of King David, the son of Jesse. David ruled around 1000 years before Christ's birth, and oversaw a time of peace and prosperity unparalleled for the Israelite people. Through David, God brought victory over the Philistines, Israel's old enemy. Through David, the borders of the land were expanded and Israel enjoyed national prominence like never before. And through David's son, Solomon, the world saw human wisdom like it had never seen, and the borders extended and the prosperity grew. Solomon even built a mighty temple, a house, for the Lord. The ark of the covenant would have a permanent home among God's people.

But there was trouble in David's house. Conflict among David's children. Solomon's heirs would divide the kingdom in two. Successive kings would follow, alternating in various degrees of faithfulness and unfaithfulness until finally each kingdom fell to an outside enemy. Assyrians. Babylonians. It all came crashing down. And when the remnant of the Jews finally returned to their land, they had no king. Their position was precarious, and more invaders, foreigners would come. The people languished in expectation that one day, David's throne would be restored. One day, a savior would come. One day, as Isaiah had prophesied, a shoot would come forth from the stump of Jesse.

And then this stump the Lord brought forth a shoot. A small green sprig, appearing at just the right time. A tender young growth, of the same nature as the stump but also somehow, something more. As the shoot from the stump of Jesse grew in knowledge and fear of the Lord, the crowds began to gather around in hopeful expectation that the tree had once been lost would stand tall in the land again. Peace, prosperity, hope – could it be that this new growth was the reversal of fortunes we have waited for?

It is Advent. We wait for Christ, much like the people standing at the stump of that ancient tree. Perhaps we, too, had our hopes up for something great, something wonderful, something God had promised... and it seems to have all come crashing down. Perhaps we are even the ones holding the axe, with a guilty look on our faces and a heavy heart weighed down by the rot within us. Things haven't turned out the way we planned, or hoped, or wanted. And truth be told, we bear the blame for what goes awry in our lives as much as anyone.

We are children of Adam and Eve, who stood at another tree and saw everything come crashing down. It was their prideful sin that did it. They lost their home in paradise. The saw death and suffering come into the world. Joyful things like work and childbirth became a burden. Their tree from here would show its rotten roots, as each generation was brought forth in Adam's image, fruit of the poisoned tree of his sin. And bearing sinful fruit of our own.

But then one came who was somehow unspoiled, untainted by this disease. He came from heaven above, though born one of us. The Son of God and Son of Man. He came to fulfill all hopes. To restore what was lost. To bring life to the lifeless, hope to the hopeless. He is the new shoot from the stump of the dead tree whose roots go far deeper than Jesse.

And Christ does all of this by another tree. A gnarled and grizzled old cross-bar to which his hands and feet were nailed. An instrument of death for the worst of the worst, thieves, murderers, rebels. And it probably seemed on that day that once again the hopes for salvation were being cut down once again, that another lifeless stump would be all that remained of Jesus the great teacher and miracle worker.

But it was not so. For on the third day far more than a stump remained, and far greater than just a mere shoot. A glorious resurrection followed that brought life and immortality to light for you and me. Christ by his tree of cursed suffering and his resurrection in glory – he becomes for us the tree of life. He restores what was lost in Eden and so much more. Peace, prosperity, honor, righteousness, even eternal life.

In him we have the Spirit of the Lord, the wisdom and counsel and knowledge and fear of the Lord.

He is our righteous judge who has rendered our verdict – not guilty, by his blood.

His word strikes the earth in judgment for the wicked and in eternal glory for the righteous. And though now we see in part, by faith, then we will see fully the restoration of paradise – as even the animals who were at odds are brought to terms of peace again in the new creation.

We wait for his coming. We wait in faith, in hope, with peace. We wait, knowing he who planted the garden of paradise is he who promises paradise to the thief on the cross, and to all of us thieves and murderers and tree choppers. His cross stands as signal to the nations – salvation is ours in Christ. So come, Lord Jesus, Amen.

Sermon - Last Sunday of the Church Year - Luke 23:27-43

November 24th, 2013

Last Sunday of the Church Year

Luke 23:27-43

“Last Words”

It is the last Sunday in the church year, and as such the “last things” take center stage. Today, especially, the Gospel reading sets before us some “last words”.

I sometimes wonder what my last words will be. You know, will they be a fond farewell with my family gathered around my bedside, before I peacefully drift off in the sleep of death. Or will it be something far more mundane, like, “what's for dinner?” or “good night, love you too”?

People are often remembered for their last words – especially when they know they are going to be their last words. It's a last chance to say what is really, really important. Some words of wisdom. Some well-wish for those you care about.

I remember being at the deathbed of one of our elders, who was dying of cancer. He was fairly lucid up until the end. The doctors told him, “say your goodbyes. You have hours left, maybe a day.” Amazing. And I watched as his family came to say their goodbyes, and he gave his final words to them – words that encouraged them to remain in the faith. I thought to myself, that's how I'd like to go.

Last words. Moses speaks some last words in Deuteronomy. He had traveled with the Israelites for 40 years, and he knew the farewell was hastening. As he would not join them in Canaan. But he spoke last words to them, words to remember, before they parted. In fact the whole book of Deuteronomy is just that – Moses' farewell sermon. We might sum it up, “man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” In other words – Moses' last words were a reminder to the keep hold of the Word of the Lord. We usually hear this reading on Thanksgiving Day, by the way.

Moses would direct us to follow the law. After all, it was Moses who received the ten commandments on Mt. Sinai – and wrote them in Exodus 20 and Deuteronomy 5. And these ten commandments leave us with no word of answer regarding our sin. They always have the last word. Do you think you don't covet? Do you think you haven't stolen? Do you really, really have no other gods?

We have no words of excuse. We have no words to free ourselves. We have nothing to say in the face of God's law, except to confess that what it says of us is true. Like David, we could say, “I have sinned against God and man.” No lie will stand, no mitigating circumstances will help our case. The soul that sins shall perish. The wages of sin – death.

But the law of God, while an important word, is not the last word. Even for Moses, he directed the people also to the works and promises of God. Remembering, in word, what he has done throughout their history to bring about their salvation. And looking forward, trusting in the promises, of the even greater salvation that was one day to come.

Then there's Jesus. His last words – well, his last words before death – are often a focus of Christian meditation. 7 Words from the cross, two of them in our reading from Luke today - “Father forgive them...” and “Today you'll be with me in paradise”. Whole sermons have been and should be preached on these last words of our Lord. But not just because they are some of his last – but because they are his words. And man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord.

Speaking of bread, that might take us to some other last words of Jesus – the words of his last will and testament. The words of the Lord's Supper. Take, eat, this is my body... Take drink, this is my blood. Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of your sins. Do this as often as you drink of it in remembrance of me. Here, the last words of Jesus are established as an ongoing testament and a mysterious application of the forgiveness he won at the cross. These words, they continue to be spoken, in his stead and by his command – when his servants continue to administer his gifts to his people.

For Jesus, his word of forgiveness is the last word on our sin. There are no contingencies. There is no small print. And there's no taking back that word. There's no chance in hell or in heaven that he will ever throw your past sins in your face. For those sins are gone, and they have been, when he spoke the last word on them: “It is finished”. It is the end. Of sin, of guilt, of death.

Oh, no, death doesn't have the last word on Jesus either. In his resurrection he destroys the power death holds over us, too. He is the firstborn of the dead, as Colossians says, in whom we too are delivered from darkness.

And yet in another way, even that isn't the last word he has for us. For on this last Sunday of the church year we are reminded once again to look to the future. To look forward to a day when he comes again in glory, to judge the living and the dead. To look forward, trusting in his word, that he will come back to take us to be with him forever. Looking forward, to a resurrection like his, when we will see him as he is, yes in our flesh, with our own eyes, see God, our Redeemer.

How about that for having the last word.

I'm not one to usually quote John Lennon, but he once said, “Everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.”

Well them man who imagined a world without religion got many things wrong. But here he was on to something, in spite of himself. Still he forgot the last words - “in Christ.”

In Christ, everything will be okay in the end. Some of the last words of the bible paint the picture beautifully. No more pain, no more suffering, God himself wiping every tear from our eyes. I'll take those last words. And know that no matter what the law says about my sins. And no matter what death does to me. And no matter what other words are spoken by or to or about me – Jesus Christ has the last word. A word of forgiveness, life and salvation. A word of peace and comfort. A word of hope. A word.. for you.

Believe it for Jesus' sake. Amen.

Sermon - Reformation Day (Observed) - Revelation 14:6-7

Reformation Day (Observed)

October 27th, 2013

Revelation 14:6-7

Then I saw another angel flying directly overhead, with an eternal gospel to proclaim to those who dwell on earth, to every nation and tribe and language and people. And he said with a loud voice, “Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come, and worship him who made heaven and earth, the sea and the springs of water.”

Perhaps you’ve heard the old joke about the man who goes to heaven, and sees all the different doors, with each denomination of Christian worshipping in their own way.  But the door marked, “Lutheran” also bears a sign, “quiet please”.  And when the man asks why, St. Peter explains, “Shh.  They think they’re the only ones here!”

I can take a joke as well as anyone, but it’s just not true.  We recognize the universal church far transcends those of us who call ourselves “Lutheran”.  I fully expect to see Baptists and Roman Catholics, Orthodox and Methodists in Heaven.  All who call on the name of Jesus Christ, have true faith in him, will be saved.  We Lutherans are not the only Christians.  And we are certainly not the only ones who will go to heaven.  Lutherans have never taught this.

However, that’s not to say that the differences don’t matter.  It’s not to say that we should sweep disagreements aside, and act as if we are all united.  We live in a fallen world, where knowingly or unknowingly, God’s holy Word is twisted and worked over, even by those who profess to be Christians.  The Old Evil Foe has been doing it from the beginning, when he led men astray with his question, “did God really say...?”  And he continues to cast doubt wherever he can today.  It is a grievous situation that the church on earth is not united in the truth, as Jesus prayed in John 17.  Sin corrupts.  It even corrupts doctrine.

And yet despite all of this, the word of the Lord stands forever.  There is a universal and timeless truth to it.  Or as John puts it in our reading from Revelation, an “eternal gospel”.  

And this eternal gospel is a gospel to be proclaimed, “to those who dwell on earth, to every nation and tribe and language and people.”  Friends, we are all living proof of this, even today.  

The Gospel is timeless and eternal, but it is also concrete and time-bound.  It is universal - that is, it is for people of all places and tribes and nationalities.  But it is also particular, that is, it is for you.  You have come to faith by the proclamation of the eternal Gospel.  You are baptized into the eternal, triune name of God.  And you continue to live by that same eternal gospel which you hear again and again, and which continues to give life.

Just what is this eternal gospel?

It is the whole and sum of God’s word to you, the sinner.  It is the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ.  

It is the incarnation, the perfect law-keeping, the suffering, the death and the resurrection of Christ, for you.  

It is the fact of his promise that your sins are forgiven, that you belong to him, for you were bought with a price.  

It is the seal and certainty of our baptism, it is the eating and drinking of Christ’s body and blood for our forgiveness.  

It is justification, by grace, through faith, in Christ alone.  

It is the confession of Christ before the church and the world, before governors and kings.  The confession of the old and the young, even from the mouths of babes.

It is the work of Christ, and Christ alone - for you, on you, in you and given to you.  

The eternal gospel is Jesus, and all that is wrapped up in him; Christ, crucified for sinners, alive for sinners, who will come again to judge the living and the dead and make all things new.

To say we are “Lutheran”, is to say that we confess the eternal Gospel.  To say we are Lutheran means that we believe what God’s word teaches, and has always taught.  That sinners are saved by grace through faith in Christ.  That when God makes a promise, he keeps it, even when it doesn’t make sense to us.  That the heart and soul of our faith is not about what we do or don’t do, or should or shouldn’t do, but about what our Lord Jesus Christ objectively has done, and continues to do for us.

I believe, and I confess that the Evangelical Lutheran Church - the church which confesses the writings of the Book of Concord - confesses the eternal gospel with truth and purity.  And I hope you can say the same.

There was nothing special about the reformers, really.  There was nothing exceptional about Martin Luther.  What makes this confession worthy of our attention, is its crystal clear presentation of the eternal gospel.  No cooperation with God, no act of human will or reason.  No experience or heartfelt yearning is necessary, or even relevant.  Jesus Christ comes to save sinners, to heal the broken, and raise the dead.  Which we all were in our sins, completely beyond hope.  Lost eternally.

But the eternal gospel gives hope to the hopeless, righteousness to sinners, and breathes life into the walking dead.

In a way, all those who confess this gospel confess the same.  And all those who believe and teach it, could in a sense be called, “Lutheran”.  I’ll often make a joke of my own, about how Lutheran Abraham was, who believed in God and was credited as righteous.  Or how Lutheran David was, who when confronted by Nathan about his adultery and murder confessed, “I have sinned”.  Or how Lutheran were the prophets and patriarchs, and all the believers of old - who Hebrews says looked forward by faith to the salvation God would accomplish in Christ alone.  They were believers in the eternal Gospel.  They were Lutherans.  They just didn’t know it.

And that is why, also, there will only be Lutherans in heaven.  For when the dust settles, and we see all things clearly, and all falsehood and misunderstanding melts away - we will see Christ and his word clearly.  His eternal gospel will stand.  And we will all of us, together, believe and know that salvation is by Christ alone, for us, forever.

Being Lutheran, you see, isn’t about Luther at all.  It’s about Christ.  It’s not about me or you, and what we can bring to the table.  We have only wretched sin.  Instead, it’s about Christ, and what he brought to the cross - himself, and gave his body and blood there, for you.  Receive that same body and blood today, for the forgiveness of your sins, according to the promise of his eternal gospel.

And have a blessed Reformation day.

Sermon - Pentecost 20 - Habbakuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4

Text:  Habbakuk 1:1-4, 2:1-4

Theme:  “Waiting... in Faith”

The Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost

LWML Sunday; St. John’s Lutheran Church, Racine, WI

October 6th, 2013

One of our common “first world problems” is having to wait.  Waiting for the green light at the intersection.  Waiting for the slow computer to load the web page.  Waiting for your toddler to get dressed so you can get to church on time.  And if you’re a naturally impatient person, the DMV can seem like your own special little purgatory.  Or maybe you are a missionary family waiting to get your visas and to move overseas...  Yes, I’ve been thinking about waiting a lot lately.  And our reading today reminds us there is a spiritual struggle for us when it comes to waiting... waiting on the promises of God.

Habbakuk knew something about this.  He was a sort of a missionary - not to Singapore, but to his own people, the people of Judah.  A prophet charged with calling out their sin, calling for their repentance, a mending of their ways.  He spoke, not his own word, but God’s holy Word.  And yet, he was frustrated.  He wasn’t seeing the results he wanted.  The people weren’t listening, and it seemed as if God was just letting them get away with it.  Wouldn’t he act?  Wouldn’t his judgment come?  How much longer do I have to wait, oh Lord?  The poor are victimized and the rich get richer by taking advantage.  It’s not fair.  When will God make things right?

Likewise, my own expectations for Singapore must be tempered.  A preacher bringing the Word of God to any place must know that not all have ears to hear.  That some will reject, even hate the message and the messenger.  And that success and growth and full pews and overflowing offering plates and shiny happy parishioners might not come so soon, or ever.  But God’s word never returns void.  It always accomplishes its purpose.  Though sometimes that purpose is so that those who reject it will be without excuse.  Nevertheless, we pray that God will bring good fruit from this message, and seeds sown will be watered, grow, and a harvest will multiply for Christ’s kingdom.  May God grant us the patience to see it.

And here at St. John’s, there is a new prophetic voice among you.  Pastor Gilbert is called to preach and proclaim the word to you, the people in his own (new) backyard.  And there may be times he will be frustrated, as will you, with the lack of outward results.  Or maybe it’s still the honeymoon period, and everyone’s still in awe of his vibrant preaching and poignant messages.  I don’t know.  I haven’t heard him preach.  But sooner or later, a time will come, when pastor or people, or both - will grow frustrated, and maybe a bit jaded.  Things might seem to stagnate.  It will become business as usual.  Patience in the promises of God, Pastor Gilbert.  Be faithful in your proclamation of law and gospel, and of Christ crucified for sinners.  And don’t force it, wait for the Lord to bring the results in his good time.  You may never even see the results.  No matter.  Be faithful.  Wait for the Lord.

And the people who hear such messages must also be patient.  Patient that God will bring good things to them in his good time.  The fervent prayers of the faithful are never ignored, but answered by our loving and gracious God.  But his ways are not our ways, his answer is not our answer, and his timing is not our timing.

Sometimes it seems like he never delivers.  That he’s forgotten us entirely.  Then faith steps in and points us back to the promises.  

The Lord who promised Adam and Eve and offspring that would crush the serpent’s head... remembered his promise and delivered, at the cross.  The Lord who promised old Abraham many descendants and even more blessings, is still fulfilling that promise when new Christians are born at the font.  And the Christ who promises forgiveness of sins in this bread and wine that is his body and blood - remembers his promise and delivers the goods, even as we do this in remembrance of him.

The same patient Lord who never forgets a promise answers the prophet Habbakuk:

“Write the vision;

make it plain on tablets,

so he may run who reads it.

For still the vision awaits its appointed time;

it hastens to the end—it will not lie.

If it seems slow, wait for it;

it will surely come; it will not delay."

“Behold, his soul is puffed up; it is not upright within him,

but the righteous shall live by his faith."

Friends, this is faith.  That we cling to the promises.  That we trust that the promise-maker is a promise-keeper even when our eyes and ears say otherwise.  

When life dumps troubles and worries and problems galore, and it seems that if there is a God, he has forsaken you... have faith.  Wait for the Lord.  

When your sins seem so great and burdensome that you can almost feel their weight on your shoulders, have faith in the one who carried them all to the cross.  Wait for the Lord.  

When it seems like your prayers are falling on deaf ears, and you want to scream “is anyone listening?” then you are in the good company of Habbakuk, and the apostles and saints, and all we of little faith.  The sinful nature of man is impatient.  But the Lord is patient, merciful, and kind.  And he who knows and sees and hears all things certainly hears you, and he does not despise the cries of his own people.  Like a father that knows best, as indeed he is, he will bring his justice and mercy at the proper time.  Have faith.  Wait for the Lord.

Where better do we see God’s justice AND mercy, than at the cross?  Where better do we see God’s answer to prayer?  Where can you look and know for certain that God will go to any lengths, ANY lengths for you... even to the death of his own Son... And Christ, even to the shedding of his own blood.  For you.  It is done, and it is finished.  God keeps his promises.  His justice is satisfied.  Sin is paid for.  And you, the sinner, go free.

There is another appointed time, my friends, for which we wait.  Another hour in which God will act, once and for all.  Call it the last day, the judgment day, the consummation of all things.  Christ will come with all his angels, judge the living and the dead.  And all his enemies and ours will be no more.  Even death itself will be done for, and we will rise and live forever.  No more suffering, no more pain, God himself wiping every tear from our eyes.  It is this final promised land in which we hope.  It is Christ’s promise that he is preparing a place for us, and will come to take us there.  It is this sure and certain hope that gives us courage even in the face of our own death.  We can rest in peace, because we wait for the Lord.

And even in death, the righteous lives... by faith.  What a wonderful promise, “the righteous shall live by faith”.  It doesn’t say the righteous will live by our impressive resume of good deeds.  The righteous don’t live by making a commitment to Jesus, or by asking him into our hearts.  The righteous don’t live by lily white reputations and a spotless record of church attendance.  The righteous don’t live by anything other than faith - faith in Christ, faith in his promises, faith in his plan and purpose to prosper you now and always.  Even when it looks otherwise, faith sees it.  And faith knows it’s worth waiting for.