Sermon - Reformation Day (Observed) - Romans 3:19-28

Romans 3:19-28
“Reformation Superlatives”

A Blessed Reformation Day to you.  We commemorate this year, as every year, the beginning of the great Reformation of the church in the year 1517, when on October 31st, an Augustinian monk named Martin Luther sparked a firestorm by posting 95 statements for debate, or theses, on the church door of Wittenberg, Germany.  It could have been easily forgotten but for the theological issue it raised – which struck at the very heart of Christian teaching. 

Truth be told, Luther himself didn’t quite see it so clearly at first.  He mainly knew that the sale of God’s forgiveness by indulgences was untenable.  But as he got blowback for raising his complaints, he dug deeper into the Holy Scriptures, and eventually re-discovered the very Gospel itself.  It had never gone away entirely, of course.  After all, the Gospel is an eternal Gospel as we read in Revelation 14 today.  But the truth had been obscured, muddied, and polluted with man-made teachings that took away from the clarity and and therefore the comfort of Scripture.

In the final analysis, it wasn’t Luther, or any of the reformers that are the real heroes of the story, but rather the Holy Spirit who worked through the Word of God.  And one of the most important passages for the Reformation, and for the Christian faith itself, is found in Romans 3, our Epistle for today.

Paul’s letter to the Romans is really the New Testament’s book of Christian Doctrine 101.  Apart from the Gospels, it may even be considered the chief book of the New Testament.  And here in Chapter 3, Paul gets to the heart of the faith – after building up for the first few chapters a case about just how bad off we are in our sins – now, chapter 3 is the turning point.  It is the great revealing of the righteousness of God that comes by grace through faith.  The refrain of the reformation is our refrain today.  Salvation is by grace through faith in Jesus Christ alone.

There’s so much here to talk about, so many riches to mine from God’s word in this passage.  Today, I’d like to focus on one little word, a key word in the text:  “all”.  And related to that, the superlative claims made by Paul as he teaches us what this faith is all about:  All have sinned.  All have fallen short.  But all are jusfitied freely by grace through faith in Christ.  Let’s consider today the Reformation Superlatives of Romans 3.

All have sinned.  All.  All people.  All individuals, all groups, all races, all stations.  Every last human being that ever was or will be, that descends from Adam – bears Adam’s sin.  We both inherit it and participate in it. 

This includes the “whole world” – believers and unbelievers alike.  Whether you know it or not, whether you like it or not.  You have a sin problem.  All have sinned.  It’s a superlative claim.  There is no exception (besides Jesus Christ himself).

And he also says that the law, therefore, stops every mouth.  Every mouth.  All of them.  There is no one that can say a word in excuse of their own sin.  There is no rationalization or explanation, no fancy argument we can use to squiggle or squirm out of the law’s accusation.  It exposes us entirely, thoroughly, through-and-through for the sinners we are.  We are not just mostly bad or somewhat culpable.  This problem goes to our very core. The corruption is complete.  We wreak of death.  All of us.  Everyone.

And anything else someone may claim about our predicament is just a plain old lie.  Whether they say you can buy your way out of the law with money, or good works, or the right lineage, or a firm commitment.  The law won’t have any of it.  The law shows your sin, and now amount of human effort can divert that pointing finger of accusation.  We are dead to rights.

“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God”.  And yet there is still hope.

There’s another superlative.  Just as all have sinned and fall short, so too all are “justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus”.  And here is the blessed, sweet, pure and free Gospel.

All are justified!  A superlative.  There is no one that Jesus leaves out of his saving work.  There is no one who is not redeemed – bought and paid for – by the blood of Christ.  All are included.  Everyone. 

Every tribe, nation, people and language.  Every rank and station of men and women, young and old, rich and poor, slave or free – there is no distinction when it comes to the Gospel.  Every human being under the law, sinner though he is, should rejoice in the redemption God has prepared for us in Jesus Christ.

Only Jesus could do it, of course.  Only he had the perfect righteousness that God’s law demands.  Only he could lay down his life as a sacrifice, fully sufficient, once-and-for-all.  “For God so loved the WORLD…”, that means everyone in it.  “Make disciples of ALL nations”, Jesus says. 
“Repent and be baptized, every one of you, Peter preached, for the forgiveness of your sins.”
God desires ALL to be saved, and come to the knowledge of truth.

How all-encompassing and entirely thorough and full and freely given is the grace of God in Jesus Christ!

And if the Gospel is for ALL, then the Gospel is for YOU.  No sin is too dark or deep.  No guilt can keep you out of the boundaries of his grace.  No skeleton in your closet puts you outside of the “all are justified”.  Nothing disqualifies you from salvation by grace through faith in Jesus Christ.

But wait, there’s more!  It’s not just that it is given TO everyone, but the grace of God itself is a superlative.  For by grace God accomplishes our salvation in its entireity.  You bring nothing to the table.  Jesus brings everything.  You have nothing but sin.  He gives you everything by grace.

That’s exactly what grace is.  It means you do nothing, God does everything for you in Jesus Christ.  You don’t save yourself, in whole, or in part.  Jesus is the one and only Savior.  And thanks be to God that he is!  For I would be a terrible savior of myself.  I could never fully trust in my own devices, my own commitment, my own reason or strength.  But the blood of Jesus?  That’s the stuff!  His sacrificial death on the cross for me?  That does the job.  And it is certainly, surely, 100% enough!  It is the superlative salvation that only he could accomplish.

But what about good works, then?  Aren’t they important?  This was, and is, of course, the objection of many who would limit the “all” of salvation by grace.  Surely my own good works must count for something!  Surely I can boast a little, that I contribute something, that I can do something, even a little, to take part in this salvation!  Ah, Paul would say no.  Boasting is excluded.  Entirely.  Your good works of the law are are not part of your justification.  They don’t make you good or right or holy.  Jesus does all of that.  He does the saving.  You have nothing to boast about, except what he has done for you.

This is not to say that we don’t do, or encourage, or teach good works – those are also false accusations lobbed at the Reformers, and even at Lutherans today.  Of course the Christian does good works.  These are the fruits of faith.  But they are not the cause.  They flow from the faith that saves us, the good works themselves count for nothing.  Or as Luther once put it, “God doesn’t need your good works, but our neighbor does”.

A blessed Reformation day to you.  May all of you sinners rejoice in the all-availing sacrifice of Christ, and be comforted again today, by the superlative grace by which we are saved through faith.  His salvation is for all, and that means it is also for you.  And let us ever confess that he has done it all, that it is by grace you are saved, not by works of the law.  Thanks be to God in Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen. 

Sermon - 19th Sunday after Pentecost - Luke 18:1-8

Luke 18:1-8

“Always Pray and Do Not Lose Heart”

Today Luke tells us a parable from Jesus and begins with the desired effect:  that we should always pray and not lose heart.  It’s easy to lose heart in this sin-filled, broken-down, world of sorrows.  Many Christians are tempted to abandon the faith when the going gets tough, or at least to shirk our prayers when it seems like they are falling on divinely deaf ears.

Jesus’ words today, and the parable of the Persistent Widow show us something different.  We should not lose heart.  And Luke says this not as a “shame-on-you-if-you-lose-heart”.  But rather, a powerful word of encouragement.  A reminder of the true nature of the God to whom we pray, and a promise regarding the effectiveness of our prayers.  Faith doesn’t see as the eyeball sees.  Faith sees what is unseen.  Faith hearkens to the words of Christ, even when everything appears otherwise.

So what’s going on in this parable? 

We are told about the judge that he “neither feared God nor respected man”.  So he was kind of a creep.  Some even name this parable, the Parable of the Unrighteous Judge.  It makes it all the worse that he’s in a position of public trust – he has no particular moral compass – either with respect to God or man.  And so he is untrustworthy and unreliable.  And yet he seems the only option this poor widow has.

This widow has some kind of issue – we don’t know what it is, exactly, but it doesn’t matter.  She wants a ruling from this judge, against her adversary.  She wants justice.

Justice! I think we can relate to that yearning, for we too live in a world of injustice.  Most of us are probably not involved in a formal court case, looking for civil or criminal justice.  That’s not what this is really about.  That’s the earthly story, not the heavenly meaning here.

And we don’t mean “social justice” either, the kind of politically correct posturing and victimhood claims that some contend for in certain quarters of our world.

Rather, we mean the kind of injustice the Psalmist often cried out in response to.  Why do the wicked prosper, and the righteous perish?  Why does there seem to be so much WRONG in this world?  Why do the good people, the righteous see evil, and the unrighteous never seem to pay for their evil deeds? 

For example: Why does the person who’s never smoked a day in their lives get terminal lung cancer, and the life-long smoker lives into their 90s?  Why does the person who faithfully arrives on time every day, does their job, never complains, and goes above and beyond – why does that one get passed over for the promotion and the slacker who just happens to be the bosses’ favorite gets the job? 

Why does the law of the land seem to favor the lazy, the cowardly, the ungodly, the rich and powerful over against the poor, the godly, the hard workers, and especially the most vulnerable?

And to make matters worse, not only does injustice seem to so often prevail, but the prayers of the faithful seem, to outward appearances, to have little effect.  How many prayers have gone unanswered, at least from the perspective of the pray-er?  How often have our cries and pleas gotten us nowhere, or at least so it has seemed?  How long, O Lord?  Don’t you hear me?  Aren’t you listening?

Take heart, Christian.  All is not as it seems.  We have a judge to hear our case, who is far better than the unrighteous scoundrel of the parable.  And he encourages us to be faithful, to be persistent, to veritably pester him with our prayers.  And he promises to hear and answer.

So often Jesus’ teaching flies in the face of our worldly experience, and goes even contrary to what we would expect.  The first shall be last and the last shall be first.  Whoever is least in the kingdom is the greatest.  And so on.

But here the argument is what we might call, “From the lesser to the Greater”.  That is, if something is true in an earthly sense, with a worldly example, here is a case where it is even more so with the heavenly reality.

We think of Jesus’ comparison of an earthly father, who though wicked, knows how to give good gifts to his children – and won’t give a scorpion when asked for an egg, or a serpent instead of a fish.  Jesus then concludes, “how much more will your Heavenly Father give us good things?”

If persistence pays off in earthly matters, with the things below, how much more will the prayers of the faithful avail answer from the giver of all good things?  If bothering an earthly judge who cares nothing for what is right, and cares not a whit for you – can possibly get you an answer – then how much more your faithful appeals to the loving and kind, merciful and mighty one?  Answer – so much more!

But it also works from the greater-to-the-lesser. Consider the words of Paul in Romans 8, in which he asks a rhetorical question, “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?”  In other words, if God went to all the trouble of sending his own beloved Son to die for us, how will he not do everything else good for us?  Since he has given us his most dear, most precious, one-and-only, how can he refuse that which is a far lesser request?

But still, we don’t see it.  And so he encourages us to be persistent, and not lose heart.  God answers prayers in his time, and in his way.  He answers them with our best interests in mind.  He answers according to his own counsel, and not our own limited definition of what is best.

And if the unjust judge will give relief just to get the pesky widow out of his hair – how much more will the just and merciful judge of all, our good and gracious Father – how much more will he answer us, and give us good things, and the justice we so desire.

In one sense he already has.  For he has sent us his Son, Jesus Christ.  And Jesus suffers the ultimate injustice, the innocent of innocents – betrayed into the hands of sinful man.  Jesus the blameless victim takes all blame, pays the ultimate price, and so satisfies God’s wrath and justice in himself.  Jesus, by his cross, so that God may be just and the one who justifies.

In the cross, Jesus answers all wrongs, and makes all things right and good and new.  Any sorrow or trouble or injustice we face is now only temporary.  The ultimate victory is ours.  Even death is destroyed by Christ’s death.  And so all of our prayers are answered in Jesus.

But there is still a payoff yet to come.  Here we wait, in the time between.  Here in these last days, Christ reigns and rules all things from his throne at God’s right hand – and yet he hasn’t returned just yet to be the final judge of all.  Then, on that day, we will see every scale evened, every claim settled, accounts reconciled, and the final reward will be ours.  Then and there, the one true Righteous Judge will make all things new and right once again.  There and then all prayers are answered and finally fulfilled. 

Jesus has this in mind with his final comment, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?”  A probing question which challenges us to remain faithful to the end – so that we can answer, “yes!”  You will find faith – for we trust in you, and we will, to the very end. 

And so, we take heart.  And so, we persist in our faith, and in faith’s voice of prayer.  We dare even to pester God with our petitions and requests.  We pray for all good things, just as he has taught us, and place our trust in God to grant us all good things through Jesus Christ.  We don’t give up when the prayers seem futile.  Rather, we press on, enduring to the end.  For we know the One to whom we pray, and he is faithful, and he will do it.  We know him through his Son our Savior, and he will not let us down.  Take heart, Christian.  Persist in your prayer! 

Sermon - 18th Sunday after Pentecost - 2 Timothy 2:1-13

2 Timothy 2:1-13

“Remember Jesus Christ”

Paul’s young protégé’ Timothy was certainly dear to the apostle.  We in the church are blessed to have 2 letters that Paul wrote to Timothy, with all manner of helpful instruction and encouragement.  Much of this concerns the pastoral office in which Timothy served, shepherding the congregation at Ephesus.  But it does, of course, bear broader application.

Timothy was a dear friend and traveling companion of Paul’s, and his name appears as the co-author on 2 Corinthians, Philippians, Colossians, 1 Thessalonians, 2 Thessalonians, and Philemon.  Paul wrote to the Philippians about Timothy, "I have no one like him".

Last week we heard a reading just prior to this one, in which Paul also commended the faith of Timothy – which he credited to his mother and grandmother.  All in all you could say that Timothy was a faithful companion, a diligent laborer in the kingdom, and a good soldier.  Indeed, Paul calls him, “my child”.

Which may make it seem strange that Paul spends so much time and ink to encourage him.  Here in the first paragraph of our reading, Paul encourages Timothy especially in his vocation of teaching.  Entrusting the Gospel of Jesus Christ to other faithful men, so that it may be passed on and that many would be saved. 

And while you and I may have different vocations, some of us pastors, some soldiers, some farmers, some athletes:  or around here it’s more like, some IT guys, some engineers, some accountants, and some more engineers….  And a few more engineers…  Nonetheless we all share in the calling or vocation as “Christian”. 

And as such, we too can learn something of that from the suffering soldier, who keeps himself about his business.  We, too, can look to the athlete who competes in an honorable way, according to the rules, and to the hard-working farmer, whose labor and patience pay off when the crops are harvested.  All of these are good examples with applications for young pastor Timothy.  But they have a broader application to all Christians:  Be serious about your vocation, and aim to please your superiors.  Play by the rules.  Work hard.  Be patient.  And think over the advice and wisdom of those in a position to teach you – and you will grow in the fear and knowledge of God.  All of these are Christian things to do.

Most of this, though, is law-talk.  It is exhortation to Christian living, which is good and helpful, but is only part of the story.  The law also, always, accuses us – even when the law-giver may be trying to be helpful and encouraging – because we sinners never meet a law we don’t break.  Am I serious and focused on the callings God places before me?  Do I work hard, patiently, and follow all the rules?  Or am I lazy and rebellious and impatient and so on?  No, the law can’t be the only word of encouragement, for by itself, it is no encouragement at all.

Paul never strays too far from the basis for our living, and for our life:  the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  And so in the next section he lays it forth beautifully, and even, eventually, poetically.

But more than anything, Paul encourages Timothy, “Remember Jesus Christ”.  That’s really the keynote of this passage. If we remember anything -  Remember Jesus Christ. 

For the people of the ancient world, “remembering” was far more than recalling facts and figures – a simple mental exercise in which our brain engages, pulls something out of the old files, and regurgitates it for our use.  Remembering is far more than that.  It means to hold fast and cherish.  It means to, in a sense, relive the past in a broader way than the merely intellectual.  And it means action, too.

And so too when scripture speaks of God remembering, i.e., when God “remembers his mercy”,  it moves him to action, to actually BE merciful.  When he “remembers his promises” (it’s not like he ever forgot them), “he remembers” them means he is about to fulfill them.  When we pray, “Jesus, remember me” like the prayer of the thief on the cross – Jesus doesn’t just think nice thought about you – but this kind of “remembering” does something – it saves us.

So, also, for the Christian to “remember” is more than an intellectual recall – it’s faith talk.  It’s the clinging to and trusting in the promises of God. 

For instance, when we observe the Lord’s Supper and “do this in remembrance”, it’s far more than just a memorial to Jesus, a thing of the past simply acknowledged – it is an ongoing testament, and a real-time and real-space real presence of his body and blood there for us in the meal. 

Paul says, “Remember Jesus Christ… risen from the dead”!  Yes, place your hope and faith and trust again and always in the Christ who rose from the dead.  This is not just any Christ, mind you, but the one who conquered death and left it in the dust.  The one who destroys the last and greatest enemy we must all face.  The one who takes the sting of death away by forgiving our sins and takes the fear of death away by promising a place for us in his Father’s house.  Remember Jesus is the firstborn of the dead, the first of many, for many who sleep in dust will rise and in Christ will shine like stars in a glorious resurrection like his.

Remember Jesus Christ… offspring of David.  The shoot that came up from the stump of Jess.  The temple that was built from the shabby tatters of David’s fallen tent.  The long promised heir to the throne of David, that is, a king to rule and protect the people of God.  The one promised and delivered, prophesied and fulfilled.  The babe of Bethlehem and the receiver of Hosannas.  Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!  And his throne and reign shall endure forever. 

Remember Jesus Christ… the one preached by St. Paul, and by every preacher of the Gospel.  For in Jesus Christ is the good news of all good news – the forgiveness of sins by his blood, the destruction of death by his death, the the promise of life in his life.  Jesus who preached the kingdom of God and also fulfilled it in himself.  Jesus who declared, “it is finished” and completed his mission for us.  Remember this Jesus, and all that he has done for us, and still does for us.  Remember Jesus Christ.

And though Paul was imprisoned for preaching this Jesus, and suffered for the same, and though many other preachers and Christians of all stripes and ranks, of all nations and times have faced persecution and danger and sword for the sake of Christ – yet Paul still encourages.  He still remains hopeful.  He knows the Word of God is not bound, for it really never can be bound. 

And remembering Jesus Christ, and only then, can Paul encourage Timothy toward endurance.  “Endure everything for the sake of the elect”.  There is a purpose and aim in our Christian vocation – and it is for the sake of others that we endure suffering. 

And these final words from Paul, scholars believe, were from a hymn:

If we have died with him, we will also live with him;

if we endure, we will also reign with him;

if we deny him, he also will deny us;

if we are faithless, whe remains faithful—

for he cannot deny himself.

So, Christians, take this encouragement from St. Paul, meant for Timothy, but useful for us all.  Remember Jesus Christ!  And live out your vocation – first as a Christiain, and then in whatever role he has placed you.

Die with him in baptism, and so live with him.  Die with him by carrying your cross, and so live by his cross.

Don’t deny him, but confess him, be faithful to him who is always faithful.

For he cannot deny himself, but he will remember and be faithful to his promises.  

So you, too, Remember Jesus Christ, and endure to the end in him.  Amen.

Sermon - 17th Sunday after Pentecost - Luke 17:1-10

Luke 17:1-10

“The Implications of Faith”

Faith is great.  We know that we Christians are saved by grace, through faith in Christ.  Faith is the assurance of things hoped for and the certainty of things unseen.  Faith is a gift.  Faith, hope and love – three great Christian virtues.  And faith, even the size of a mustard seed, can move mountains.

Today, as Jesus teaches his disciples on the way to Jerusalem, we hear him delving deeper into just what this faith means for our life together as Christians.  For living in the faith means a different kind of life than outside the faith, with the unbelievers.  If we believe in Jesus, if we follow Jesus, then certain things are to be expected; certain things will follow.  Let’s look at this passage which may seem at first to be an eclectic mix of disjointed ideas – but really has St. Luke, and Jesus, teaching us some of the implications of faith in Christ.

For starters, a warning.  Temptations to sin are sure to come – even to those of us in the faith!  And while we are not enslaved to sin any longer, Jesus concedes that we can still fall into temptation.  So that’s the first warning – to watch not only for sin, but the very temptation to sin. 

Even more sternly, Jesus warns us about being a temptation to others.  Causing others to sin.  Woe to that one!  It’s one thing to sin all by yourself, but sinners love company in their sin.  It may make you feel less culpable.  “Hey, look, everyone else is doing it!  I’m not the only one, it must not be so bad!”  And whether the sin that you’re recruiting others for is gossip or laziness or despising of God’s word or any other sin – don’t be fooled.  Sin is worse when you lead others to it, especially little ones – either children, or those who are weak in the faith.  Watch yourselves!  Jesus warns.  Tempting others to sin is no small matter.  It brings woe.  It would be better to be tied to a millstone and cast into the sea.  It is, truly, damnable.

And if that pokes some holes in your conscience today, well it probably should.  For which of us shouldn’t be lined up for our own millstone?  Who doesn’t, by their sin, deserve their own measure of woes?  But the same Jesus who dishes out the woe came to take it.  The same Jesus who warns of sin’s great consequences is the Jesus who absorbs them into himself.  Woe to the one who causes another to sin.  But thanks be to the One, who by his death, frees us from the woe of sin and judgment.

Next, Jesus talks about forgiving our brothers.  If he sins, rebuke him, and if he repents, forgive him.  It sounds so simple, doesn’t it?  But hard to practice.  Hard to have the courage to speak a word of rebuke.  Rebuking isn’t for polite society.  It’s not good dinner conversation.  But life in the faith is different. Christians march to a different tune than the world.  And so we are called by Jesus to rebuke – though, gently if possible, as Paul encourages Timothy.  And the goal, of course, is not to demean and drive away the sinner, but to elicit repentance and reconciliation.  “If he repents, forgive him”.  That’s the goal.  That’s the desire.  Even seven times in a day – or in other places Jesus says 70x7 – forgiveness is unlimited.  Christians don’t keep score against each other.  For we know how the score stands with ourselves.

How many times, how many sins does God above forgive you each day, dear Christian?  Certainly more than 7.  Certainly without demanding you enumerate and verbally confess each and every sin of thought word and deed.  If we did that, or even tried, we’d never do anything else but confess!  So deep and thorough is our own sin.  But so high and all-encompassing is God’s forgiveness in Christ.  That all our sins are covered – 7, 70x7, 7 trillion zillion.  All washed away in baptism, and in the blood of Christ.  And so how can we not forgive so freely?  How can we hold our brother’s sins over him?

We saw a beautiful example of this in this week’s news – when the brother of a murder victim spoke words of forgiveness in Christ to the woman who killed his brother.  He even embraced her in a hug before she was taken off to serve her sentence.  Now here we see the implications of faith in a most poignant way – forgiving what some would think unforgivable.  But that’s just a shade of Christ’s forgiveness for each of us.

Sounds pretty difficult, though.  Avoiding sin, not tempting others, rebuking and forgiving our brothers who sin.  Jesus sets the bar so high.  And you get the idea that the disciples were feeling the same.  Who can live up to these expectations, Lord?  Who has such a great faith?  And so they pray, “Lord, increase our faith!” Not a bad prayer.   

Much like the prayer of the man whose son was plagued by a demon – the one who prayed, “I believe, Lord, help my unbelief!”  Friends, it is these kinds of prayers that God always answers with a yes.  For we know his will, he has revealed it to us – and it is just that – that we would have faith, and more of it.

We pray similarly after communion, “…that of your mercy you would strengthen us through the same (that is, through this sacrament), in faith toward you…. And in fervent love toward one another”.  Strengthen our faith, Lord!  And he does!

And to what end?  What does faith do when it grasps on, ever so tightly, to the promises of God?  I does amazing things.  Things you’d never expect.  Jesus here must have been walking by a mulberry bush, and used it as a handy example – “if you had faith – even a little faith – like the grain of a mustard seed - you could say to this bush to be uprooted and planted in the sea, and it would obey you!”  Ah, but that’s not what faith is interested in, showing off, doing tricks.  Rather something even more amazing – saving sinners.  Grasping grace.  Making the words and promises of God our own.  Even saving us, to life eternal.

Nor is faith about measuring faith.  Faith trusts not in itself, but in its object, Christ and his word.  Faith doesn’t look inward, but outward.  Faith looks to Christ and him crucified, and there finds its assurance, its hope, its fulfillment.

And finally faith has fruits.  Faith produces works.  Faith prompts and effects in us the fulfillment of our duty as the servants of God.  Of course we are always careful to say, as scripture does, we are not saved by those works, but by grace through faith.  But we also know that faith without works is dead.

But in much the same way that faith doesn’t look inwardly at itself, faith also doesn’t keep score about one’s good works.  It’s like the servants in Jesus’ example.  They do their duty – without care or concern, without thought of gain or reward.  They do all that is asked of them, and then simply say, “look, we’ve only done our duty”. 

In a world of entitlement mentality, what a breath of fresh air are the good works that flow from faith.  In a milieu of “what’s-in-it-for-me?”, the Christian faith asks a radically different, “How can I serve God and my neighbor?”

Consider the story Jesus tells of the sheep and the goats – in which he praises the sheep for their good works – visiting the prisoner, the sick, clothing the naked, feeding the hungry, doing all this good to the least of these, and in essence, doing it unto Christ himself.  But the sheep answer in bewilderment, “when did we do all this to you?”  You see they weren’t keeping score.  Their deeds flowed from faith.  Their works weren’t some spectacle for the world to see, but they were simply doing their duty.

So you, dear Christian, go and do likewise.  Live out all the implications of faith – avoiding temptation, and never causing others to stumble.  Confessing your own sins, and receiving Christ’s forgiveness, only to forgive also those who trespass against you.  Grow in your faith, and pray that you would ever more.  And in all you good deeds, simply do your duty, to the glory of God and good of your neighbor.   All for the sake of faith, faith in Christ, that great gift and blessing.  Amen.

Sermon - St. Michael and All Angels - Matthew 18:1-11

Matthew 18:1-11

“Greatness in the Kingdom of Heaven”

Ask most Christians familiar with the Bible about Matthew 18, and they will tell you it’s the forgiveness chapter.  You know, “When your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault just between the two fo you” and “how many times should I forgive my brother, 7?  No, 70x7”.

But we forget there’s a lot more packed in here.  The forgiveness emphasis is in the last part of the chapter.  Here in the beginning the question surrounds what is greatness in the kingdom of God?  And in answer, Jesus discusses the place of children in His kingdom.

Also, today is St. Michael and All Angels day – and so we have that topic to weave in to our proclamation. 

I suppose some might have tried to answer the question, “Who’s the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” by answering: the angels!  Yes, the mighty spiritual beings that comprise the heavenly armies of God!  Michael, the Archangel, perhaps, is the greatest!  He threw Satan down from Heaven, so he must be pretty great, right?  And all the other angels.  Powerful and glorious beings. 

You know, angels in the Bible are not the soft and gentle creatures they’ve been depicted as in modern times – precious moments figurines and babies with wings spreading rainbows upon butterflies.  No, angels are the soldiers, the heavenly special forces of God – they wield flaming swords and their voices shake the building.  They are not to be trifled with.  A great prince among the angels, Michael is shown, in Daniel 10 and Revelation 12 – as the general of these forces, who casts Satan down from heaven at God’s command. 

Angels are also the messengers of God, and they appear in Scripture especially when God’s plan of salvation takes a major step forward.  They are particularly associated with Jesus – they sing at his birth, they adorn his empty tomb.  They minister to him in wilderness and garden.

It’s probably a good thing that the angels remain hidden, unseen, for the most part.  Otherwise, we humans might be tempted to accord them the greatness of God, make them into idols, or at the very least a major distraction from the God whom we both serve.  Even St. John, when he saw a mighty angel in his vision, and bowed down to worship – “You must not do that! I am a fellow servant with you and your brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus. Worship God.” (Rev. 19:10)

And so, in our Gospel reading today, when someone asks about greatness, Jesus doesn’t produce an angel, or make reference to St. Michael.  He plops a child in their midst.  And he talks about humility.  Humility is greatness in his kingdom.

It’s not hard to see how our culture has elevated children in all the wrong ways – placing them on a pedestal of innocence, as if they have no original sin.  Parents letting children run the show, make the decisions, determine their own religion, their own school, even their own gender.  Children are less and less disciplined and more and more idolized and this is not good for the world and it is not good for those children.

But rather, look at what children lack – knowledge.  Strength.  Wisdom.  The means to support themselves.  It is in these humble characteristics Jesus sees the qualities to be admired in his kingdom.  For when we come to him, and to his Father with such humility – admitting our own lack of wisdom and strength, then we can receive him on his own terms.  Then we know the grace and mercy that flow from the truly great one.

Jesus is, of course, the greatest in the kingdom.  He humbles himself most profoundly, even unto death, even death upon a cross.  He makes himself the lowest, the nothing, the servant of all, even of children.

And where the world would alternately esteem children in all the wrong ways and despise children for all the wrong reasons, Jesus holds a special place for children.  He says receiving a child in his name means receiving him.  And woe to the one who would lead a little child to sin – but rather we ought to protect and nurture and teach our children well. 

And then, as a sort of an aside, Jesus discusses temptation.  It is a dangerous thing!  It’s sure to come.  It’s even necessary.  But woe to the one through whom temptation comes! 

Some would say Jesus simply speaks in hyperbole about cutting off hands and feet and poking out eyes that cause us to sin.  That he’s using exaggerated language to make a point.  But I submit here, it’s just the opposite.  If you really could have 100% assurance of eternal salvation, wouldn’t it be worth your hands, your eyes, your feet?  Ah, if it were only that simple.  To take Jesus’ point one step further, it’s our whole nature that causes us to sin.  It’s out of the heart that comes all sorts of evil, he says.  And who can live without a heart?  So would we cut our entire selves off?  Would we, indeed, die – in order to be free of sin?

Yes!  That’s exactly it!  We must die and be reborn.  We must be baptized, and buried with Christ, only to be raised with him.  We must count ourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.  You see the Christian faith and life is not a matter of refurbishment, refreshment, slap some new paint on that old barn and cover up the wear and tear.  Rather, Christ makes us entirely new through death and resurrection.  Brand new – even like a little child.

And Jesus, for his part, He himself is cut off – cut off from God, and from life – to make this life ours.  He gives himself entirely – eyes, hands, feet, head and heart – all of him goes to the cross for all of us.  All of him is thrown under the wrath of God so we are spared from the hell of fire.  All of him bears the millstone of guilt.  He is cast into the depths.  For all of us, adults and children, sinners alike.

And so Jesus circles back to the children at the end.  “Don’t despise one of these little ones.  For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.”  And this statement is a fascinating claim indeed.

Some have taken this passage as foundation for the idea that people, especially children, have “guardian angels”.  And perhaps that is so – for angels are ministering spirits who serve God by serving us. 

Or maybe in a more general sense, it refers to the fact that the angels serve the people of God, and especially children.  And if you think the children are nothing, or you would despise the lowly children – remember that even they are served by the mighty angels who are so honored to see the face of God the Father – something no human has done or could do.

And this, too, disputes another popular misnomer about angels.  No, we Christians don’t become angels when we die.  Rather, in the resurrection we become the glorified humans we were meant by God to be.  We assume the fullness of the image of God – including the righteousness of Christ.  And we share, also, in a humanity with the very Son of God himself – and who will remain a human forever.  No mere angel can say that.  No angel, in Scripture, ever wears a crown.  But we humans are promised a share in the reign of our king.  So when our time comes, and the angels carry us home to heaven, we don’t become one of them, but rather we remain human and will remain so forever.

There is much more we could say about the angels – these messengers from on high.  And there is much more we could say about children – our role models for humility in the kingdom.  But on this Sunday of St. Michael and All Angels, let us find comfort in the God who appoints angels to our service, and regards even the little children – receiving them in his name.  Let us become always like those little children, humble and lowly before God.  And may we ever be found in Christ, the greatest of the kingdom, who makes himself low that we might be exalted.  Who comes to save us, who were lost. 

Sermon - 14th Sunday after Pentecost - Luke 15:1-10

Luke 15:1-10

“Lost and Found”

Luke 15 is sometimes called “The Lost Chapter”, not because it has ever been lost, but because it famously contains the story of the Prodigal Son or the Lost Son, and also these two parables in the first part of the chapter – the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin.

Jesus tells these parables, Luke tells us, as “tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him.”  And while that means they were starting to follow him, and they were drawing around him in proximity, there’s also a spiritual reality here, too.  They were coming to faith in him.  They were repenting and believing.

Now perhaps a word against some popular preaching today – who draw the wrong conclusion here.  The fact that Sinners and Tax Collectors were drawing near to Jesus doesn’t mean that Jesus is just fine and ok with all manner of sin.  It doesn’t mean that you can come to Jesus today and remain in your sinful life, clinging to your sinful actions, with no change or modification to your way of life.  But rather, as Jesus receives sinners, he changes them.  They are brought to repentance.  Turned around.   And I should really say WE are brought to repentance, because this is all of us who believe.  Luke mentions that repentance in just a few verses.

But nonetheless, these sinners and tax collectors stand in contrast to the Pharisees and Scribes, who grumbled.  They grumbled that Jesus would receive such filthy vagabonds, which is telling in itself about their own spiritual condition.  Grumbling, like the children of Israel in the wilderness, unappreciative, unfaithful.  They, in their spiritual hubris, who didn’t want to be polluted by these obvious sinners.  They, who thought it inappropriate or unbecoming of Jesus to slum it up with the ne’er do-wells, rather, he should be cozying up to us, the good people, the righteous folk.

“This man welcomes sinners” they complain, and in doing so they unwittingly confess exactly what it is that makes this Jesus so wonderful.  That which is mockery on their lips is praise from all Christians.  Jesus sinners doth receive!

They’ve got it backwards, as people so often do when it comes to Jesus.  And so he tells them these two parables of that which is lost, and that which is found.  And the application is fairly straightforward.

First there is the Lost Sheep.  Jesus asks, “which of you would…?” and the implied answer is, “anyone would” go looking for that lost sheep.  While on the one hand, 1 out of 100 isn’t all that much – 1 % - you might lose that much in the stock market in a day.  But on the other hand, this sheep is his – and it matters to the shepherd. And he’s going to go looking for it. 

Then you have the woman who loses a silver coin – this time 1 out of 10 – and she turns her house upside down looking for it.  Another perspective from everyday life, but something all his hearers could relate to.

A modern day version of these stories might be when you misplace your wallet or keys – and you go retracing your steps until you find them.  If that doesn’t work quick enough, you enlist the aid of your family, and start checking ever more places – the car, under the couch cushions, maybe I left them at work?  Maybe it keeps you awake at night.  Roman Catholics even call on St. Anthony to help him find what was lost. 

And so losing something important to you is a common enough earthly story.  But what is the heavenly meaning here?  What is Jesus teaching us?

For one, that we are lost in sin. And not just the outwardly, obviously sinful people, but all of us.  Not just the tax collectors and women of ill repute, but the Pharisees and Scribes, too.  You and I are the lost sheep.  You and I are the lost coin. 

But in any case, Jesus is all about seeking and saving the lost.  Sure, he’s the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep, a shepherd unlike any other.  But here, too, he is just like a regular shepherd who would go looking for a sheep that is lost.  He doesn’t wait for the sheep to come wandering back, to pull itself out of whatever ditch the sheep has gotten bogged down in.  He doesn’t stand there with arms folded until the sheep gets his act together.  He goes.  He seeks.  He finds.  He saves.

Our Good Shepherd comes down to the ditch to pull that lost sheep out of the mud.  He fends off the slobbering beasts who would have that sheep for lunch.  He brings that lost sheep back into the fold, washes him clean, gives him rest, leads him to still waters and green pastures.

And is Jesus comparing himself to a woman?  Well, he’s compared himself elsewhere to a mother hen gathering up her chicks.  But the point of comparison is what’s important.  Jesus seeks the lost.  He goes to great trouble to do so.  Oh, you Pharisees think these sinners are lost?  Well, I’m going to find them.  I’m not a savior who cuts his losses, and just leaves the lost to wander.  I seek and save the lost.  I go after the sinner.  And I will find him.

He cleans and clears the house, turns everything upside down in his zeal to purify and his fervor to find.  He goes to great lengths, any lengths, even a cross to get the job done, if that’s what it takes!  And that’s what it took.

What the Pharisees and Scribes couldn’t see, is that they too were lost.  What they couldn’t get past was their own self-righteousness.  They counted themselves among the 99 righteous who needed no finding.  But if they could admit their own lost-ness, they’d be glad for a savior that seeks the lost.  And so should we.  And speaking of gladness…

In both parables, when the lost is found, there is great rejoicing.  The shepherd and the woman each throw a party for their friends and neighbors, and express their joy at the lost being found.  Jesus makes the point that the same happens in heaven – the angels throw a party – when even one sinner repents.

Well they must party a lot up there.  Because repentance doesn’t just happen on a one and done basis.  We lost and found sinners get lost and found over and over.  We daily bring our sins to Jesus.  We drown the old Adam in baptism daily, by repentance and faith.  But it’s really the Spirit working in us, and on us.  It’s him who has begun a good work within us and bringing it toward its completion at the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.  We are constantly being found by Christ, saved by Christ, sanctified by the Spirit of Christ. 

Oh what joy there must be in heaven, oh what an angelic grand gala every time sinners confess and are absolved, every time the water and word of baptism do their thing, and every time repentant sinners come to the one who meets them at the table – as both the host and as the feast, himself.  No wonder we couch our liturgy of Holy Communion with the Preface, “therefore with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify..” the holy name of God. 

With Jesus it’s never what the world expects.  The poor are made rich and the rich made poor.  The humble are lifted up and the exalted are made low.  The last are first, the lowly are exalted and vice versa. 

Here, too, those that think they’ve got it all together, who trust their own way, who seek to find themselves - are really the ones that are lost.  And the ones who seem so lost in sin – who despair of themselves and humbly confess their wandering ways – they are sought out and found, by Jesus, through his Gospel. 

May you ever be so lost – and may you always be found, in him.  In Jesus Name.

Sermon - 13th Sunday after Pentecost - Luke 14:15-25

Luke 14:15-25
“Counting the Cost”

Sometimes the teachings of Jesus are hard to swallow. For those with only a shallow view of our Lord, or a twisted understanding of what the Christian faith is about – an honest look at what Jesus actually says could be rather puzzling.  And I think we Christians ought to accept and admit the fact that some of the things the Bible teaches, and some of Jesus’ own teaching is difficult.  It can be difficult to understand, in our minds.  It can be difficult to accept, with our hearts.  We are limited human beings, after all, and sinful on top of that.  We are not God, and should not presume to judge him or what he says, but rather accept even the difficult teachings in faith.

Take his teaching in our Gospel reading today. Hate your family? Renounce your very life? Carry your cross? This is not the self-help guru Jesus that many have come to believe in. This is not the love and peace Jesus that many think he is. “Count the cost of discipleship”, Jesus teaches today. And the cost is high.

It's worth noting, perhaps, that Jesus gave these hard words as his popularity was reaching a fever pitch. “Large crowds followed him”. And perhaps not for the right reasons. Whatever they were looking for, it wasn't what Jesus had come to do and be. I think it's much the same today.
You look at some of the largest churches, the fastest-growing with the big budgets. Their pastors are on TV and they buy old sports stadiums to hold the crowds. But if you listen to the message – it's empty. There is little talk of sin, and therefore no need for a savior. Jesus, if he's mentioned at all, is reduced to a rule maker, an example to follow, or just somebody who wants you to be happy with yourself.

And we can see why the temptation is so strong. Even though we are at a church which takes its doctrine seriously, which is well grounded in the gospel but not afraid to speak the law. Even though Messiah seeks to be faithful to our Lord and his teachings, and to all that we hold dear. Still, we are sinners. And our sinful nature wants success. It wants glory. It wants numbers.

We look at the bulletin and the numbers aren't what we want them to be. And this makes us uncomfortable. Anxious, maybe. Where is our faith that no matter what, the Lord will care for us? Aren't we tempted to measure our success by the outward growth we see here, and not by how faithful we are to the Word? What will happen to our congregation if we don’t change with the times, adapt to the world, get with the program?  Ah, but we can pine for the glory days when things were easier, and people were more involved and when society wasn’t against us and the church wasn’t a pariah.  But nostalgia won’t do us any good either.  Being faithful today, in the context we find ourselves now, is what we are called to do.

The same holds true for our personal lives. Living as a Christian means sometimes we don't have all the goodies, the success, the pleasures of our worldly counterparts. Sometimes it means trouble. It could even mean strife in your family, suffering, shame or loss. You might even have to die for your faith, as so many Christians have.

Jesus says to count the cost. If you want to be his disciple, it means an ordering of priorities that is at odds with the unbelieving world. Seeking first his kingdom and his righteousness. All these other things, good gifts that they may be, come after that.

And so again, it's a matter of Law and Gospel. To those seeking glory and earthly success and worldly things – Jesus throws a roadblock. You better think twice. Being my disciple is no walk in the park. It's like a king going to war – he knows there will be bloodshed and turmoil, even death.
It’s almost as if Jesus doesn’t want disciples!  What a terrible politician he would make.  What a poor salesman.  It’s almost as if he’s talking you out of following him – trying to scare you off!  The cost – it’s just too high.

But friends, these are not the only words of Jesus.

This is also the Jesus who said “come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest”.  Who said, “if anyone thirsts let him come to me and drink – for free”.  Or “come and eat this bread from heaven and live forever.  He who believes in me will live even though he dies.  Don’t worry about tomorrow, for your Father knows what you need, and are you not worth more than many sparrows?  Seek and you will find, knock and the door will be open.  I am the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep.”

You see, for those who are already broken, suffering, and dying... For those who aren't so concerned about offending their earthly family as the offense they've given their heavenly Father... for those of us who bear the weight of our guilt, Jesus speaks a different word – the Gospel. And that is an entirely different way of counting.

In Christ, God does not count our sins against us.  He reckons faith as righteousness. He gives his greatest riches as a gift. He sends his only son not to condemn as we deserve, but to die in our place, to take the punishment we deserve. God becomes man, to save man from our own rebellion.
And certainly God knew the cost – when he sent Jesus to do the work of salvation. And Jesus knew the cost – blood, a cross, a tomb. The cup of God's wrath. A far cry from the glory of the crowds – but the cry of crowds for his blood – crucify him!

The God of mercy who counts even the hairs on your head will certainly care for you in every way, down to the last detail.

So Christianity is both easy and hard, depending how you count it. It's both costly and free.
So now – for you - what really counts? Jesus calls us to count differently. He turns our corrupted wisdom on its head. The first shall be last. The least shall be the greatest. In death there is life. That's how God counts.

If you would cling to the things of this world – your sins and the corrupted creation – even your family or your life – then it seems very costly indeed. Maybe too much so for some people. A burden, a chore, a downer and a drag. Who would want to be a Christian anyway? This is the way of the Law.

But to those who have ears to hear, the Gospel shows the true kingdom is free. Disciples are born, not graduated. We don't earn our way in, we are adopted as sons. And our Lord continues to do the work of discipling us, teaching us, strengthening us. He continues to give freely and without cost, according to this Gospel. Holy Baptism, Holy Absolution, Holy Communion, the free and clear proclamation of His grace. All of these come at no cost to you, all for the sake of Jesus.

It's a wise person that knows that nothing in this life is truly free. The bigger the sign and the more exclamation marks, the more closely we should look at the fine print. But it's a wiser person who knows even better. That in Jesus there are no strings attached. In Jesus salvation is truly free for sinners. That in Jesus Christ our Lord, our cost is covered, and it's on him.

The free gifts of his kingdom bring us to count differently, too. By his Spirit we consider ourselves no longer #1, but our neighbor. We consider the things above as more precious than the things below. We even see suffering through the eyes of faith – and rejoice amidst our troubles, all for the sake of Christ. What really counts – he has already counted to us – righteousness in him forever. And we can always count on him.

In Jesus Name, Amen.

Sermon - Luke 14:1-14 - 12th Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 14:1–14

“Humbled and Exalted”

Much of today’s reading revolves around the polarity of humiliation and exaltation, being brought low or made low, and being raised up.  It’s a common enough experience in human life, on either end of the scale.  But with Jesus there’s always more to learn – especially as our earthly experiences shed light on spiritual realities.

As he often does, Jesus shows mercy to a man before him suffering from disease, in this case dropsy, an abnormal swelling with fluid – we’d call it today “edema”.  He heals the man, even though it’s a Sabbath day, and even in the midst of the Pharisees at whose home he is dining.

Jesus is often about the business of humbling the self-righteous.  So when the Pharisees get all judgey about Jesus breaking their precious Sabbath laws and healing a man on the Sabbath – he rhetorically humiliates them.  Which of you wouldn’t do the same if you had a son, or even an ox stuck in a ditch on the Sabbath?  Wouldn’t you pull it out of the well?  Wouldn’t you save the poor animal?  And how much more valuable is the man than the beast? And how much less “work” is it for Jesus to say a word of healing than for a farmer to strain and stress to pull a huge animal from a ditch? 

As on so many occasions, Jesus verbally kicks out the pedestal of self-righteousness from under them.  And they are left speechless.  Or the Greek actually says, “They had no strength to answer”.  Well, the law leaves us speechless, too.  Every mouth is stopped, after all.

Then we have the Parable of the Wedding Feast.  Jesus doesn’t stray too far from the occasion for this earthly story with a heavenly meaning.  He was attending this dinner party at the home of a Pharisee.  And he observed the jockeying for position, as the Pharisees sought the best and most honorable places.  The sight must have been almost laughable.  But it’s not too hard to imagine.

We sinners are all too often selfishly concerned about our own place.  We seek the approval and accolades of man.  We want the highest place, if not at the table, then at the office, or in the family, or amongst our friends, etc.  We want to be regarded and respected, and woe unto you if you don’t treat me as I deserve!  Oh the games we play, seeking after our own status in small and big ways.  But what it boils down to is this:  Loving ourselves more than our neighbors.  Even humiliating others in order to exalt ourselves.

And so Jesus warns us – with a parable of both practical and spiritual advice.  Seek the lower place, and be invited upward.  Don’t seek the higher place, and be humbled, brought low.  You can see how it plays out in practical, worldly terms.  But consider also the spiritual meaning:

Humble yourself.  Take the lowest seat.  It’s not Jesus as miss-manners.  This is a spiritual truth we do well to follow.  We need to compare ourselves, our lives, our works - not against others but against the standard of God’s holy law.  Do I love the Lord with all my heart, soul and strength?  Do I love my neighbor as I should?  Do I keep the 10 commandments?  Do I honor God, his name, his word?  Do I care for my neighbor’s possessions and life and good name?  Am I chaste in everything I say and do?  If the law of God doesn’t humble you, sinner, you’re not listening too carefully.  If the commandments of God don’t show you your lowly, sorry, state, then your ears are plugged with rationalizations and lies.

Far better to confess your sins and bring them, humbly, to the foot of the cross, and be raised up by the restoration of his forgiveness.  Far better than to confess your own righteousness and be exposed at the judgment seat of Christ, after all, for the sinner you are.  Exalting oneself in the sight of the Lord is always a bad idea.  But humble yourself in the sight of the Lord, and he will lift you up.

And all of this has to do with how we treat our neighbor, as well.  Take the other parable, of the Great Banquet.  Here Jesus instructs us to regard the poor, the lowly, the humble.  And what could be more Christ-like?  Rather than seeking rewards by all our interactions with others, rather than playing quid-pro-quo, I’ll only scratch your back if you scratch mine…. The Christian ethic is one of selfless service.  The Christian humbles himself not only before God, but before others, regards others more highly than himself.

Martin Luther commented on the issue this way:

“be careful and arm yourself against this saying: “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled.” For God will not and cannot tolerate such pride and arrogance. What do you have that you should be so proud? What do you have of yourself? And is not another just as much God’s creature as you are, no matter who he is? He will not have him despised; for he who despises his creature also mocks his Creator, says Solomon [Prov. 14:31; 17:5], and he who scoffs at a station scoffs at the Lord himself.”

For his part, our Lord Jesus knows what it means to humble himself.  Did anyone ever endure such humiliation as Jesus?  So much of his work involved making himself low, we even speak of his work for us – the first part – as his “state of humiliation”.  It begins with him humbling himself to become man, to take on flesh, to be conceived and born into this polluted world.  He knew humility in his life, having no special place like kings and emperors, but a lowly carpenter, a Galilean commoner.  He had no place to even lay his head. Humbled in his suffering, humiliated in his death.  Even his burial didn’t afford him proper honor – a hasty burial in a borrowed tomb. 

And all this humiliation for you, of course.  Brought low in your place.  Enduring the punishments, suffering the condemnation you deserve.  Taking the worst seat, the lowest place, what should have been yours and mine, the place of the cross.

But then… the exaltation would follow.  Christ is exalted, but not for himself, yet also for you.  He was raised from death for you!  To bring you with him from death into life.  He trounced the forces of hell for you – and declared his victory there on the devil’s own home turf, personally.  He ascended into heaven and takes back his throne – for you!  To rule the world, the church, and all things for you and for all his people.  And he will come again in glory, not for himself, but for you – to call your resting bones to life again, to gather you with the sheep into your rest, and to give you the crown of righteousness and a share in his reign.  

His humiliation spares you ultimate humiliation.  And his exaltation brings your exaltation.  Brought low in Christ, lifted up in Christ, he brings you to the highest seat, even a place at his heavenly feast.  Inviting you, the lowly, the outcast, to his Great Banquet.

Ah, but we don’t have to wait until that day, to take our place at his table, his banquet.  He invites you, even now, to his table.  When we gather around the altar, kneel at the rail, and receive the lavish feast of Christ’s body and blood – he has truly invited the lowly, the lame, the outsider, the shameful, the poor, the sinful dregs.  But he also brings us, by himself, from that low place, the highest.  Sins forgiven, we depart in peace – knowing Christ’s righteousness covers us.  Forgiveness, life and salvation are ours.  We are, spiritually, exalted in Christ.  Does it get any better?

So, friends, live a life of humility – in service to God and neighbor. Do not exalt yourselves before others, but humbly serve.  Do not exalt yourself before God, but be honest about your low estate.  Humbly bear your sins to Christ, who takes your low place, and lifts you up.  And live in the hope of the great banquet to come, when the foretaste gives way to the feast in all its fulfillment.