Sermon - Reformation Day - John 8:31-36

 

“Reformation Truth”

A blessed and joyous Reformation Day to you.  This special Sunday is observed, particularly in Lutheran churches, because of the historical significance of October 31^st, 1517.  An Augustinian monk named Martin Luther posted 95 theses, or statements for debate on the castle church door in Wittenburg Germany.

And while it seems that something 500 years ago is far off and might be well forgotten, we give thanks to God not so much for a man named Luther, but what the Lord of the Church accomplished through him and the other reformers.

Oh sure there are many ways to look at the Reformation.  You could see it as a great story of standing up for what you believe in against powerful institutions.  Or a tale about the courage of one’s convictions.  Or the triumph of the individual over the giant faceless bureaucracy.  But that’s not really why we still set aside a whole Sunday for this.

You see Reformation Day is all about truth.  The Truth of the Gospel.  The same truth that we hear about in our reading from Revelation 14 – where an angel is depicted with an “eternal gospel”.  The truth of God good news for us in Jesus Christ, you see, never changes.  It’s the same truth Paul writes about in Romans 3 – that we are saved by grace through faith apart from works of the law.  It was true for Paul back then.  It was true for Abraham before him, saved by grace through faith.  And it’s true for us even now, even today.

It’s also the truth that Jesus talks about in John 8, our Gospel reading today.  The truth that sets you free.  Here’s one of those sayings that many people repeat and probably don’t know it comes from the Bible – or even that it’s Jesus who said it, “The truth will set you free!”

But Jesus isn’t talking about the truth in general.  Although we are certainly in favor of that.  We even teach truth as one of the core values at our classical school – truth, goodness and beauty – the overarching principles of classical education.  I think Jesus would be in favor of all that.

But what he’s talking about here is the truth with a capital T.  The truth of God’s word.  And that word really has two parts, two sides as a coin.

Anyone who sins is a slave to sin.  That’s the bad news.  It’s what we Lutherans call the law.  And it stops every mouth so that no one has an excuse.  All have sinned and fall short of God’s perfect law.  No one is righteous, not one.  No one can be justified by works of the law, because we all break the law every day in many ways.  Or as Jesus puts it, “anyone who sins is a slave to sin.” And “a slave has no permanent place in the house”.

This is part of the Reformation truth that Luther rediscovered.  That all the works and rituals and traditions of the church, all the penance performed and all the money donated, even the formal and flowery documents of indulgence issued on the authority of the pope himself – that all of it was rubbish.  Worthless.  None of it can save you.  We can never do enough good works to make up for our sins.  We can never stop sinning anyway, and so our debt is far too great for us to pay.  Our situation, on our own, before God, is without hope.  We are in bondage – slaves to sin.

But Paul didn’t leave us without hope.  And Luther finally rediscovered that hope.  And Jesus of course always held out that hope – the hope of the Gospel which is the very power of God for salvation.  The good news that even though you can’t save yourself, Jesus has done it all for you! 

Even though you are a slave to sin, he is the Son – the Son of God and the Son of Man – the one, the only one who can free you from sin and death and hell.  The only one who’s good works are good enough for God.  The only one who’s blood can cover sin.

This Jesus is the truth that sets you free.  And if you abide in his word, you know him. 

Abide.  There’s a funny word.  It means to live in it, remain in it, to sort of soak yourself thoroughly in his word.  So that the word of God is never far from you – but always in your ear, on your lips, in your heart.  This is why we rehearse it with our children – and teach it in our catechism.  So that they, too, will abide in the word of Christ, know the truth, and that truth will set them free. 

No, it doesn’t mean that we never sin again.  Christians still do.  Though rather than making a practice of sin, a lifestyle of sin, rather than running headlong into sin full steam ahead – the Christian is different. 

If we abide in the truth of the Gospel, we will begin to see sin as something alien to us – not a part of who God has made us in Christ to be.  And so we struggle against our sins.  We wrestle with them.  And we live in repentance – confessing our sins to Christ the Son who always stands ready with his forgiveness.  And so the first of Luther’s 95 theses got it right, “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ``Repent'' (Mt 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”

Luther lived at a time when the church had largely forgotten all this.  They began to abide in other things than his word.  But God worked through this German monk with all his flaws and shortcomings, and the Gospel truth of Salvation by grace alone rang out clear once again.

Another important Reformation Day truth clarifies where we go for this truth.  The pope in Rome claimed to speak for Christ, and with him the Church claimed to speak for God – even over against Scripture.  Church tradition and customs usurped the clear and simple words of the Bible in many ways.  A course correction was long overdue.  And so the reformers rallied around the slogan, “Sola Scriptura”, that is “Scripture Alone”.  Scripture alone is our source of Christian teaching.  Scripture alone is infallible and finally trustworthy.  Popes and councils can and do go wrong.  But God’s word will never lead us astray. 

So when Jesus says “abide in my word and you will know the truth”, we hear an encouragement to read our bibles, trust God’s word, and know follow what he teaches us there – and not to hold blindly to the traditions and teachings of man. 

Of course this is also true for Martin Luther, too.  Much of what Luther taught and preached was good and right and true.  And for that we give thanks to God.  But some of what he said and did was frankly quite embarrassing.  We must remember, our faith is in Christ, not Luther.  Our trust is in Christ’s word, not Luther’s word.  When Luther agrees with Christ, we agree with Luther.  But when Luther departs and falls short, we stick with Jesus Christ.

Which brings us to another great truth of the reformation, “Solus Christus” or “Christ Alone”

A faith based on the Bible, a faith that is right and true, is a faith that trusts Christ alone, and knows salvation through Christ alone.

The truth is there is no salvation outside of Christ.  Certainly not in ourselves.  Not in any other god.  Not in any idea or philosophy or religion or ism.  Jesus says it himself, “I am the way and the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father by through me”.

But it’s not Jesus “plus-something” either.  Jesus plus your good works.  Jesus plus your commitment. Jesus plus you agreeing to accept him into your heart.  Oh no.  Salvation by grace alone through faith alone is in Christ ALONE.  You can’t add anything to what Jesus has already done for you.  He has done it all.  His work is sufficient.  His sacrifice was perfect.  His blood atones for all your sin.

We thank God on this Reformation day for reforming and sustaining his church.  Luther faced his challenges.  We face our own.  In a day and age when truth itself is under fire, and some question if truth even exists – may we continue to abide in the word of Christ and rejoice in the truth.  Thanks be to God for salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone – the truth of the Gospel that sets us free!

Sermon - Pentecost 21 - Mark 10:23-31

On the heels of Jesus’ interaction with the rich young man, he sees the crowd looking on and continues the teaching moment.  In fact last week’s reading and this can really be thought of as a unit – on the dangers of riches and how difficult it is to enter the kingdom.

Some have said that the camel going through the eye of a needle here is really not a sewing needle, but the small door in the side of the walled city.  Not the main door for armies and caravans to come in easily, but a small door, big enough for one man to come through – and not much more.  Strategic for defense in time of siege warfare, it is suggested.  And if that’s what Jesus means here then it is quite a laughable picture.  Imagine some poor fellow pulling an irritated camel from the front (camels spit, you know) and another sad soul assigned to push the camel from behind.  It’s ridiculous, and laughable.  But you just might imagine with enough effort and cajoling they can squeeze that camel through and then be exhausted for the rest of the day or week. 

A modern analog to this might be, “It’s like trying to fit a sumo wrestler into a clown-car” or Andre the Giant into a coach seat on a commercial airliner.  It’s just not really designed for that sort of thing.

But in my study this week, I’ve seen some other convincing suggestions that this small-size-door explanation is really somewhat doubtful.  That it’s been around as long as maybe the 9^th century, but that it likely isn’t what Jesus was talking about here.  That he really meant the actual thing - the hole in a sewing needle.  Something so small you can barely see it.  Try getting your camel through THAT!  Heck, most of us have a hard time even getting the thread in there.

Maybe the sewing needle is a better approximation of what Jesus is getting at here anyway.  He doesn’t mean to say it’s merely a challenge, to get into the kingdom.  It’s not just something that takes a lot of effort, or great reason or strength.  A really tough task, but, “you can do it eventually!”  Rather, he’s driving home the impossibility.  He’s driving us to despair of our own merit or worthiness.

You see, in ancient Israel they viewed the wealthy somewhat differently than many of us do today.  Today, the rich are often demonized in popular culture.  Or, on the other hand they are thought to be recipients of their own hard work and labor – good for them.  Or maybe you don’t think much of them at all, they are just like everyone else but happen to have more money.  Hey – maybe you are one of the rich!

But in Jesus’ day and age it was different.  The rich were seen as special.  They were to be looked up to and admired.  They were the best of the best, after all they had been blessed by God with earthly riches.  How much of a leap to assume, then, that he would also bless his favorites with blessings in the hereafter?  So the disciples would have reasoned, if ANYONE has a chance to make it into the kingdom of God, it’s the rich.  Right?

Wrong, Jesus says.  By this teaching he pulls the rug out from under one of their great assumptions.  It’s not the wealthy who have a leg up with God.  In fact, wealth is so often a distraction, a road block, an obstacle to even getting in the door.  And Mark says they were astounded.

If the rich have a hard time, then who, if anyone can enter the kingdom?  If they can’t do it, then where does that leave me?  Now you’re thinking the way Jesus wants…

Who can enter?  Jesus says, “with man it is impossible”.  Did you catch that?  It’s not just the rich anymore.  With man it is impossible.  No man can enter the kingdom.  No one is good enough, holy enough, without sin enough to enter the kingdom.  Rich or poor, mean or nice, loving or hateful – these are all human comparisons to other humans.  With man it is impossible, because just like the rich young man from last week, we can’t keep the commandments.  We don’t love God, and we don’t love our neighbor as we should.  We serve other gods and we serve ourselves rather than others.  We are helpless and hopeless and salvation, in this little phrase, Jesus says, is impossible.  No chance.  Out of luck.

With man.

But with God, all things are possible.  And friends, if you are with Jesus, you are with God.

Think of all the impossible things Christ has done for our salvation:

The virgin will conceive and bear a son.  God himself taking human flesh in the womb of Mary.  “How can this be?” she asked.  And the angel answered, with God all things are possible.

This Jesus, this humble man from Nazareth in Galilee, does all things well – he completes the perfect 10 of the law, fulfills all righteousness and is perfectly obedient to his Father.  No one else could do it, but with Christ, all things are possible.

And then this Jesus takes and drinks the cup of God’s wrath down to the bitter last drop.  He absorbs all sin in his body, he who had no sin is made to become sin for us.  And then he takes all that sin to a Roman cross and sin itself is dead, in him.  How can this be?  With God all things are possible.  After all this Lamb was slain from the foundation of the world.

And of course that impossible miracle of Easter would follow.  For death cannot hold the Lord of Life!  And he would impossibly ascend into heaven, and he impossibly sits at God’s right hand and he impossibly rules over all things and will impossibly, but just as certainly, come again – to judge the living and the dead and his kingdom will have no end.

That kingdom that it was so hard, impossible, for you to enter – but in which you now stand by the grace – the impossible grace – of Jesus Christ our Lord.

He puts is grace in humble means for you – so that in a word, you are forgiven.  His name and some simple water wash away your sins.  And under bread and wine he himself comes to be present, truly, for you.  And yet with God all these gifts and blessings are not only possible – they are promises.  More certain and sure than the sun rising and setting each day.  More reliable than death and taxes.  God’s grace for you in Christ is the foundation of everything.

Sounds good.  Sounds like it’s worth leaving everything else behind and following Christ.  The disciples did.  And we do, too, by faith.  When you trust in Christ as your ultimate good, your only God, none of the riches of this world truly matter.  And then he sets another impossible surprise before us:

“Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, 30 who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands, with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life.”

The blessings of his kingdom are many, and they begin even now.  The blessings of his kingdom are far more, far greater, than even the best things of this life – family, lands, treasures, whatever.  You may not see the hundredfold and more with your eyes.  But the promise of paradise the blest is already, even now, your own.  The inheritance of the kingdom, you have already received.  After all, the one you inherit from has died – though yet he lives!

Jesus does slip in this little phrase, “with persecutions”, to remind us that this side of heaven, this will sometimes be rough.  Part of our inheritance is to get what Jesus gets – and so he received scorn from the world, so do we.  He was persecuted by his enemies, so is his church.  He had to carry his cross, and he calls us to take up our own and follow him.  The Christian way is the way of the cross, with all that it entails, even persecution.

But we also inherit life from him, eternal life.  Just as he is risen from the dead and lives and reigns to all eternity, so shall we.  He is the firstborn of the dead, we will certainly follow.  We already have in baptism.  We are buried and raised with Christ.  When we die we Christians rest in peace in the arms of Christ.  But one day even our graves will open, and he will call us forth to eternal life in all its fullness. 

Does it sound impossible?  It is.  But with God, in Jesus Christ, all things are possible.  And his impossible promises are instead a sure and certain hope.  Therefore put your trust in him, and you will never be disappointed. 

Sermon - Pentecost 19 - Mark 10:2-16

 

Holy Matrimony was instituted and blessed by God.  It’s his invention, his creation.  In marriage, therefore, it is God who joins together man and woman in a one-flesh union meant to last a lifetime.  And it’s a very good thing! 

Marriage is full of blessings.  It provides companionship so that we are not alone in this life.  It affords help – one to another – through the difficulties that are sure to come.  Marriage is also the cradle into which children are to be born and raised – and taught the fear and love of the Lord.  Even secular studies have shown us that it is in a home with a mom and a dad that children are best poised to thrive.  It’s God’s design, after all.

Marriage is also meant for the delight of man and woman in each other.  That love that is shared and grows year over year – that’s not an accident either.

As much as we joke about the drudgeries of marriage – the old ball and chain and such – perhaps we ought to think again and treat this institution of God’s as the holy thing he has made it to be. We honor God when we honor marriage.

But like all of his gifts, we find ways to ruin it.  And if we had to discuss the difficult teaching of hell last week, then we better not shy away from the difficult teaching of divorce today. 

What did Moses tell you?  Jesus answers their question on divorce with a question.  Which they, of course, get wrong.  They blather on about some certificate of divorce, an accommodation to human sin that Moses conceded in order to protect poor women who were victims of their husband’s abandonment. 

But what did Moses tell them?  “You shall not commit adultery!”  The sixth commandment!  Moses told you what Moses hear from God.  That’s the foundational answer.  That’s the answer to the question of divorce. Back to basics.

And Jesus goes back even before Moses, back to creation, back to the very beginning, when God made them male and female.  When he instituted marriage – when he made a suitable helper because it was not good that man should be alone.  (And by the way, another reason the doctrine of creation is important – it is the foundation on which marriage rests!)

In the beginning, before sin entered into the world, there was marriage.  But like everything else corrupted and tainted by sin, even marriage, the very heart of the family, the foundation and building block of human society, is now tarnished and stained and broken.  And sometimes, in this fallen world, marriages fail.

But they don’t fail because of some accident of nature, like a tree falls and randomly crushes a car during a storm.  Marriages fail because husbands and wives are sinners.  Sinners make messes of everything.  No married person can honestly say they have loved their spouse as they should.

And if you, personally, have not been divorced, consider your attitude toward marriage and divorce.  Do you take it lightly?  Have you become numb to the great evil divorce is?  Do you hear of divorces and simply shrug, “oh well, life goes on” with no more concern than if someone stubbed a toe?  People grow apart.  Life’s twists and turns.  Or how did one famous couple put it when they announced their split, “we no longer believe we can grow together as a couple in this next phase of our lives.”

Our attitudes toward this holy thing of God are part of the problem, friends.  While you may not have hired the divorce attorney, you may just as well be contributing to the culture of divorce by your own sins of thought, word and deed.  Sins of commission and omission.  Whatever your posture, God’s mind is clear on the matter.  In Malachi 2, God puts it simply, “I hate divorce”.  There aren’t many things he speaks about in such strong terms as this.

And then for you who have been divorced, have experienced a divorce – I’m sure this hasn’t been a pleasant sermon to sit through so far.  I’m sure it would be more comfortable to hear about some other sin – any sin.  Maybe, humanly speaking, you were the victim of your ex’s infidelity, abuse, or abandonment.  Maybe you tried your hardest and it still failed, and yet you might still feel guilty about it.  Or maybe you were the guilty party in every way, and made a mess of marriage that you cannot go back and fix now even if you wanted to.  The truth is often somewhere in between.

Nonetheless, Christians have but one thing to do when faced with our sin – whether the sin of divorce or the sin of contributing to a culture that despises marriage.  Whether failing to love our spouse as well as we ought, or dishonoring marriage by our fornication, adultery or lust.  The answer is the same:  repent.  Turn from sin.  And turn to Christ in faith.

Christ, who comes to join together what man has put asunder.  Christ, who comes to heal and reconcile the great divorce between God and man.  Christ, who alone can restore, renew, and revive, who can clean your conscience and balm your guilt.

Jesus dealt with people who had made a mess of marriage, too.  Remember that Samaritan woman at the well?  He called her out on her adulterous living, and yet he still spoke kindly to her and revealed his identity to her as the Christ and called her to worship in spirit and truth.  Remember the other woman, the one caught in adultery?  They were trying to stone her to death, and Jesus pointed those accusations back on the crowd, “let him who is without sin cast the first stone”.  And then he said, “Who condemns you now?  Then neither do I condemn you.  Now go and sin no more”.

The same Christ deals with us.  He doesn’t wink at our sin, nor does he want us to pretend it’s not there.  He calls us, rather, to bring that sin to him in contrition, and confession, and faith.  And he forgives.  He doesn’t cast stones at us, his people, for our sin, or condemn us as we deserve.  He speaks kindly, and calls us to worship in spirit and truth.  And then he sends us to go and sin no more.

Christ knows of marriage not only because he founded it with the creation of Eve.  He also knows it as he himself is the true bridegroom.  And he has come to court and win his holy bride, the new Eve, the church.  With his own blood he bought her, and for her life, he died.  No look at Christian marriage is complete without this major biblical picture – of Christ and his bride, the church.  One might even say that all earthly marriages also point to this heavenly reality – this eternal love story.  Though even the happiest marriages on earth are tainted by sin, the heavenly marriage of Christ and his bride is pure and true and holy.  Though earthly marriages end in divorce, or when death do us part – there will be no end to the marriage feast of the Lamb in his kingdom which has no end.

And now let’s visit the second part of this text, which deals with children.  It’s likely no accident that Mark places Jesus’ comments about children after some talk of marriage – for marriage and family go together, and it is in the bound of marriage that God blesses new families with children. 

Jesus invites the children to himself.  He rebukes the disciples who would hinder them.  He lays his hands on the children and blesses them, and commends their faith, “of such is the kingdom of heaven”.

You know, we often point out that children have a faith that is so much simpler and straightforward than adults, they seem to trust as a matter of course.  And Jesus wants us to trust him with a similar child-like faith. 

But consider this, children also take correction more easily than adults.  Maybe because they are more used to it.  But children quite often hear both the correcting word of their parents, as well as the kind and loving word.  They trust that even when a parent is telling them to do this, do that, do the other thing – that parent loves them and wants what is best for them.  Not always, of course, for children are sinners too, but they do seem to have a higher tolerance for correction than so many adults.  Adults, in our pride, are often so much harder to correct.  We feel we’ve outgrown such things.  We know better. And we are outraged, offended, indignant(!) if some other person should dare to correct us!

Rather, receive the kingdom of God like a little child – in both correction and love.  With the discipline of God’s word, and with the promises of his gospel.  Trust him as a dear child trust his loving Father.  For he desires only your good, and he has procured it in Christ.

Sermon - Pentecost 17 - Mark 9:30-37

 Mark 9:30–37 

“The Greatest”

Muhammed Ali, a championship boxer, was famed for his trash-talk.  Besides claiming to “float like a butterfly and sting like a bee”, he was also known to claim, brazenly, “I am the greatest!”  And after seeing his prowess in the boxing ring, at least for a time, it would be hard to argue with him.

We admire greatness.  We love to see people do well at their craft, their profession, their vocations.  Ask me some time about my favorite chess grandmaster.  There’s a sort of vicarious living that happens when you get caught up in someone else’s greatness.  You feel a part of it.  We do this so much lately we even have a new term, ‘the GOAT’, G-O-A-T, standing for the Greatest Of All Time.  

Mark’s Gospel today calls us to consider a different kind of greatness - true greatness.  Not at boxing or football or computer engineering or investing.  Greatness in the kingdom of God.  And like so many other things, the Christian appraisal of greatness is opposite of what you’d expect, against the grain of the world, and totally backwards from how most people measure greatness.

The disciples who alternate between faith and fear, wisdom and foolishness, great confession and horrible heresy – well we can always relate to those fellas.  Today Jesus catches them, overhears them arguing like petulant children.  Along the road, the bickered about who among them was the greatest.

Imagine what it might have sounded like, “Of course I’m the greatest, I’m Peter – the rock – which one of YOU got to walk on water with Jesus?”  “Yeah, Peter, but then you sank like a stone,” John might have said, “I’m clearly the greatest because I’m the youngest and I’ll probably outlive you all.” But then Matthew says, “I think I’ve got the best story – I mean if Jesus can even call a tax collector like me – I think my turnaround is really the kind of thing people will relate to”  “Yeah, but I’m clearly the greatest since Jesus trusts me to carry the money-bag.” And on and on it might have gone.  

Imagine their sheepishness when Jesus calls them out.  “What were you arguing about on the road?”  The awkward silence.  He knows, of course.  He always knows the answer to questions like this.  He’s caught them red-handed and they had nothing to say for themselves.

The law stops your mouth, and mine, too.  There are no excuses.  We have nothing to say for ourselves.  When the accusations come, and the law always accuses, we are dead to rights caught.  Whether we’ve been exposed as a self-serving and prideful brat, a lying and scheming snake, a greedy glutton or a back-stabbing gossiper.  There’s plenty of ways we sin, and God’s perfect law shines the probing questions on all it.  Have you loved God like you should?  Have you loved your neighbor as yourself?

Ah but we’d rather compare ourselves to others, than to the law.  I love God more than the next guy.  I might not be perfect, but look at you.  Chief of sinners through I be, at least I’m not as bad as thee.  This is really the same thing the disciples were doing – only instead of arguing who’s the greatest, we play the game of who’s not the worst.  As if that gets us off the hook.  

But that’s not the standard God sets.  He doesn’t call us to be better than average, or better than most, or better than your neighbor.  He says love God with ALL your heart, soul, strength and mind.  And love your neighbor as yourself.  

So Jesus takes the occasion to teach them a thing or two about greatness in the kingdom.  He sits them down, gets their attention, and sets forth a principle.  If you to be great in the kingdom, if you want to be first, you must be servant of all.

This flies in the face of what we know and do!  The great people have servants – butlers, maids, nannies, groundskeepers, chauffeurs, even body-guards.  The rich and powerful have servants to tend to their every need, and the mundane tasks they are too busy and important to do.  They can’t be bothered.  They’re more important than all that.  Those menial tasks are for the little people.  Or so the usual worldly thinking goes.

But Jesus says greatness, first-ness, primacy of place in the kingdom is found in servanthood – and in being the servant of all!  Placing yourself lower than all.  He even uses a small child to drive home this point.  The lowest, the least, the humblest – that’s greatness in the kingdom of God.  Exactly opposite of greatness in the world.  

And then we hear from James, this morning, and he makes it even worse for us.  “Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God? Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.”

James brings a double barrel of accusations and unloads them on us today.  He calls us to exhibit humility and the wisdom from above – that is “pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere. And a harvest of righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace.”  

Contrast that to the worldliness of earthly wisdom – which has to do with jealousy, coveting, quarrels, murder, the passions, and pride.  These are the things that friendship with the world brings us, but which make us enemies of God.  And that’s not all that great at all.

So who can keep such laws?  Who can exhibit such purity?  Who can be so great?  Who, after all, can succeed at making everyone else greater than self?  It’s just so extreme.  Who can attain to such greatness?  Who can truly be or become the servant of all?

Only Jesus can.  Jesus is the greatest among us.  Jesus is the greatest of all time.  For only Jesus is the servant of all.  Jesus, who by his perfect life, does all that James could ask and more.  Jesus, who keeps the commandments perfectly, earns righteousness by his own greatness in keeping the law.  And then gives that righteousness to us, freely.

Jesus, who by his humble, sacrificial death on the cross came to destroy sin and death – for all.  Jesus, who not only faces his mission head on – but even teaches his disciples about it beforehand, again and again, though they couldn’t grasp it.  Look at the first paragraph in our text, where he shows them plainly:

“The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him. And when he is killed, after three days he will rise.”

That’s greatness.  That’s the Gospel.  The cross.  There Jesus took the lowest place, crushed under the burden of our infinite sins.  There Jesus became the servant of all, dying for ever scoundrel, reprobate and rebel that ever was or would be.  Suffering all for every lying, cheating, stealing, murdering, gossiping, greedy and jealous coveter of someone else’s greatness.  He who washed even their feet now washes them clean body and soul, inside and out, by his holy precious blood.  

And he does it for all.  No sin is too great for him to take on.  And no sinner is too great at sinning to be served by Jesus.  Whatever your deepest, darkest sin – and we all have them – whatever your most embarrassing and shameful deed.  Repent. Jesus forgives.  He is that much greater than your greatest failing, that he takes it himself, takes it away, and makes you whole and clean and new.

So, who is the greatest?  It’s Jesus, of course.  As St. Paul says in Philipians 2:

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus,  who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped,  but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.  And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.  Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name,  so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

Even his exaltation is yours.  His resurrection guarantees your own.  His greatness is good for you, great for you.  For in him, God, in Christ, has received you as his own dear child, his little one.

Or to put it another way, Christ, the greatest of all, makes himself least of all, servant of all, to exalt the humble and lowly in his kingdom.  Therefore rejoice, and therefore follow him and trust in him.  Humble yourself, and he will lift you up.

In Jesus’ Name.  Amen.

Sermon - Mark 7:31-37 - Pentecost 15

 

Mark 7:31–37

“Ephatha!”

Only a few times in the New Testament do we get to hear the actual words of Jesus in the Aramaic language.  In these cases our English Bibles don’t translate, but give us the actual sounds of the words Jesus made – and we have one of these today.  Some others – well one was when he said to the little girl who had died, “Talitha Cumi”, that is, “Little Girl, arise”.  And of course his quotation of Psalm 22 from the cross, “Eli, Eli, Lema Sabachthani”, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Today we hear a third example from our Savior’s own lips, the simple command, “Ephatha!”, “be opened!”

Now, there’s plenty to say about this one little word.  In opening the ears of a deaf man, Jesus drops yet another calling card of the Messiah.  As Isaiah prophesied,

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,

and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

then shall the lame man leap like a deer,

and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.

 

But more than that, Jesus illustrates again for us, as he so often does, the power of his word.  The same word which created all things – let there be light, let there be birds and fish, let us make man in our image…. Now the creative and restorative word brings a new physical reality.  The same word which casts out demons and all manner of diseases.  The same living word, himself made flesh, which comes that we might hear and believe.

 

Now, of course, this Ephatha had to be spoken to the deaf man, because he was suffering under one of the many effects of sin.  And while he himself didn’t cause his deafness by his own sin – at least not directly – he was no doubt a sinner living in the broken sinful world.  So, too, for us – though we do cause many of our own problems by our own sin, sometimes we are simply the victims of the brokenness of the world, and either some other sinner affects us, or even nature itself inflicts on us some disease or accident.

On one level this story is so simple.  Jesus sees a man who has a need, and he helps him.  He’s the only one who can help him.  And he makes it right.  He heals the man’s ears and loosens his tongue.  He restores him completely, giving him the full functionality of his members that the rest of us take for granted.  Jesus does nothing half-way.

 

Now, you and I are also in a predicament, and it’s not too unlike the deaf-mute man.  Although it is in a way far worse.  According to our sin, the Bible tells us, we are helpless and lost.  We are blind, dead, and enemies of God.  But another biblical picture of our fallen condition is that of deafness.  Jesus often remarks, “he who has ears to hear, let him hear”.

 

The problem is that in our sin, we don’t have ears to hear.  Or to put it another way, we are deaf to God’s word.  We don’t want to hear the law.  We don’t want to hear how sinful we are.  We certainly don’t want to hear the punishments we deserve.  That’s why Scripture warns us about those with “itching ears”, and the preachers who only preach to scratch that itch, to say what unrepentant sinners want to hear, not what we all need to hear.  Without Jesus we are lost in so many ways – and pick your metaphor – we can’t help ourselves.

 

And so it stands as a reminder that Jesus helps us, too.  He sees us in our condition, and he has compassion.  He sees our suffering, our inability, our brokenness, and he comes to heal.  But it’s far more than just physical healing.  Jesus goes to the root of the problem.  He opens the spiritual ears that are cemented shut by sin.  He gives us ears to hear the very Gospel of his free forgiveness.  He frees the tongue from its blasphemies and loosens in us the prayers and praises of one who has now come to faith.  Faith comes by hearing, after all.  And what we believe in our heart we confess with our lips.

 

But think about it.  If the man is deaf, can he even hear the “Ephatha”?  Well not if I say it.  No mere man could.  But the divine word gives what it expects.  It provides what it commands.  It creates a new reality.  And this is a hint of something far greater to come.

 

The ear of a deaf man is not the only thing Jesus has come to make open.  The seal of deafness is not the only one he comes to break.  For on the third day, after he had done all his suffering and rested in his borrowed tomb, Jesus had a new and better Ephatha to complete.  He opened the grave.  His angels rolled back the stone, and he rolled back death in a glorious resurrection.  He opened the grave with the ease that your dad opens the pickle jar.  And life broke forth.

 

But not just for himself.  His ephatha is your ephatha.  His empty tomb foreshadows your own.  When he comes again in glory with all his angels, with the final trumpet call and the glorious shout of victory, then the dead in Christ will rise.  He will say the greater ephatha to all the graves of his people.  He will call us to the same life that he stole back from death and hell.  And we will be fully restored, not just spiritually, but also physically, and even eternally.  What a day that will be!

 

Heaven itself is opened to us in Jesus Christ.  And this, even now.  For every time the word of absolution is spoken to you, the gates of heaven are opened.  Every time we repent and return to our baptismal grace, we are restored.  Every time we humbly approach his table and receive the body and blood of our Lord, our invitation to the heavenly banquet is renewed – for where there is forgiveness, there is also life and salvation.

What will be ours one day in full – is ours already, even now, by promise.  And the Holy Spirit is the deposit, the guarantee of the greater blessings to come.  Now we see dimly, but then we shall see fully.  Now we suffer in a body of death, but we know who will save us, and restore not just our ears and tongues, but also eyes, heart, hands, yes our whole selves.  That’s the promise of the resurrection.  That’s our hope.

And take comfort in this, too, Christians.  While we wait for his salvation to appear, while we finish our course of days upon this earth, he has not left us alone.  Our God in with us, even to the end of the age.  Jesus also reigns on his throne, a benevolent king who hears our prayers, brings our prayers to the Father, and even sends his Spirit to teach us to pray and to pray on our behalf.

In Jesus, the very ears of God are “Ephatha” for us.  God’s ear is inclined to our prayers, he desires them and wants to answer them.  He regards our prayers favorably.  Not because of us, but because of Christ.  He hears our prayers only through Christ.  This is why we pray in Jesus’ name.

Now let’s take this last statement from the crowd, “He has done all things well”.  This is far more than just a cheer for another good work of Jesus, a sort of “for he’s a jolly good fellow” type thing. It confesses that by healing the deaf man, Jesus sort of ticks the last box on the list of Messianic signs of healing. 

But like many who comment in the pages of Scripture, their words mean more than they intend.  Jesus has done all things well.  He completes everything he set out to do, everything the Father asked of him – a perfect life fulfilling the law.  A perfect fulfillment of all messianic prophecies.  A perfect suffering and death to atone for all sin.  A perfect resurrection.  A perfect ascension and reign and he will return at the perfect time to bring history to its close.  He has done all things well, and done them for you, dear Christian.

So keep your ears open to his word, which will continue to instruct and forgive you, direct and strengthen you this whole life through.  Pray without ceasing to the one whose ear is inclined to you, to answer for your good.  And look forward to the day when he says his final ephatha to your grave, calling you forth to the eternal reward Christ has won for us all.  For he has done all things well, for you.

Sermon - Pentecost 12 - John 6:51-69

 

John 6:51–69

“Hard to Believe”

Today’s Gospel reading shows us a striking moment in the life and ministry of Jesus.  Contrary to what many assume when they think of Jesus as a preacher, he was not always well received.  Here, at the end of John 6 and Jesus’ great sermon about himself as the bread of life – here the crowds finally have heard enough, and they reject him.  They leave.  They can’t accept his teaching.  It’s too hard.

I have to confess, it is a great comfort to me as a pastor, that if even Jesus can be rejected because people find his teaching too hard, too unbelievable, or for whatever reason – well, no servant is above his master.  It is an encouragement to pastors to remain faithful to the truth of God’s word even if and when it is an unpopular teaching, an unwelcome truth.  In other words, if people reject the Gospel we preach – we must remember they also rejected Jesus’ preaching at times – and that puts us in good company.  Now, of course, if people leave the church because I’m a jerk or I sin in some way against them – that is on me.  But simple, faithful, preaching of the truth – if that’s the problem – then it is an honor to be rejected as Christ was.

The temptation, of course, and this must have been true for Jesus, too, is to preach what people WANT to hear.  To cater to itching ears.  To preach a message that never offends, that never puts you at odds with anyone.  A vanilla Pablum that doesn’t risk anything because it doesn’t say anything.  Some cute stories strung together with a vague and mild sense of spiritual something-something – but no sin, no law, no Jesus, no cross.

Or, to preach a message that is attractive to the culture, in its departure from traditional values.  Or, scratch the itch of the Old Adam who is always looking for ways to justify himself with works – and lay out a means for people to do just that – in 12 easy steps – or whatever manmade program of self-righteousness you can concoct.

Well that’s not the sort of thing that’s been preached from this pulpit, and that, to your credit, is surely a big part of why you are here.  You want the message of Jesus Christ, crucified for sinners.  You want to be fed with the bread of life – the living bread that comes down from heaven – who gives his flesh for the life of the world.  You want the Gospel!

Or do you?

One of the things this passage also teaches us is that the Gospel is hard to believe.  Jesus’ message of free salvation in him alone – that he alone is the bread of life that gives life to the world – that’s hard to swallow.  It’s even worse, though.  It is impossible to believe on our own.  Not just for that skeptical crowd that left him in John 6.  For you and me, too.  “The Spirit gives life, the flesh is no help at all”

Luther puts it this way in the Small Catechism we’ve all learned:  “I believe that I cannot, by my own reason or strength, believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him…”  We are so corrupted by sin that not only is the Gospel hard to believe – it’s impossible.  Ever since Adam fell into disbelief and rejection of God’s word, our will is also bound to reject the truth and to rebel against our creator.  Any time sinful man hears God’s truth the answer is, “This is a hard saying, who can accept it?” and the rhetorical answer is, “not me!”

But Luther also shows us the answer.  “I believe that I cannot, by my own reason or strength, believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to him…  BUT!  But the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel!”  Of course this is just another way of saying what Jesus says here to his disciples:  “no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.”

The miracle of faith is that anyone believes in Christ at all.  And this we credit to the work of the Holy Spirit, who is sent by the Father (and really, also the Son).  The Spirit calls us to faith.  The Spirit creates faith in us.  The Spirit works repentance, through the law showing us our sin, kindling contrition, and turning us away from the old ways.  The Spirit shows us Christ – and the free gift of salvation.  The Spirit, and only the Spirit, brings us to saving faith in the one crucified for us, Jesus Christ.  And the Spirit works, always, through the word.

The sinner who rejects the Gospel has only himself to blame.  The believer who follows Christ has only the Spirit to thank.

And so Jesus turns to his disciples, asking if they’re leaving too… and Peter makes another one of his great confessions, “Lord, to whom shall we go?  YOU have the words of eternal life!”  And we echo that confession today even as we gather around those same words of eternal life.  We can’t go to ourselves for eternal life.  We can’t go to some guru or life coach.  We can’t work our way up the spiritual ladder of holiness.  We can’t even come to faith on our own.  Rather, we must trust entirely in the God who first called us to faith to sustain us in that faith. 

But what a blessing it is that salvation is his alone.  If my faith rested on my own shoulders it would always be in doubt, uncertain, as shifting as the sands of my own sinful heart and mind.  But on the sure foundation of Christ’s word, and the solid ground of the Spirit’s working, we must be saved.  If God does it – it can’t be bad, and it won’t go wrong.

Now, this doesn’t mean that once we are a Christian, everything is easy.  Rather, sometimes even confirmed LCMS Lutherans struggle to believe.  Either we have our moments of doubt and fear, times of weakness of faith – to which I can only point you back to the Gospel you first received.  And remind you that a bruised reed he doesn’t crush, and a smoldering wick he won’t snuff out.  Even a weak faith is faith.  Even a mustard seed of it does wonders.  Simply pray, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”

Or else maybe you struggle with a particular teaching of Jesus.  Maybe you find a certain doctrine “hard to believe”.  Perhaps it’s the 6-day creation account of Genesis, or that sin came into the world through Adam and Eve.  Maybe you have a problem with the scriptural teaching that reserves the office of the public ministry for men and not for women.  Some people struggle with Paul’s warnings in 1 Corinthians 11 about unworthy reception of Holy Communion, and how that is faithfully and lovingly practiced.  And I know many, probably a surprising amount of us in this room, wrestle with Scripture’s teachings of sexuality in light of the drumbeat of our so-called “progressive” culture.  Maybe some even take offense and grumble at these teachings of scripture, these teachings of Jesus.

As a pastor, I don’t relish the times when people find the doctrine of the Bible “hard to believe”.  I don’t look forward to the thought of defending God’s word.  I hate to see people do what the crowd did in John 6, simply say, “this is a hard teaching” – and turn their back on the truth. 

But I also know that the Holy Spirit is smarter than any of us.  And he changes hearts and renews minds in ways beyond our knowing.  All I can do as a faithful pastor is show you what the word says.  It’s not my job to convict you – that’s the Spirit.  It is he who convicts the world in regard to sin and righteousness.

But I can encourage you to remain humble.  Many of us didn’t always believe as we do.  Most mature Christians can tell you how they’ve been brought down the road of faith – sometimes in a short time through a conversion experience – but more often, over time, in small and subtle ways, as the Spirit moves.  Many souls wiser than you and I have gone before us.  We are not the first to wrestle with hard teachings.

And to strengthen your faith – remain in the word.  The words Jesus speaks are spirit and life!  Continue to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the easy and the hard teachings of Jesus.  You’re never too old to learn and grow in that inexhaustible treasure of God’s word.  You never don’t need to be reminded, renewed, and reaffirmed in that word. 

And feed your faith, or rather, be fed by him – the bread of life – who also comes to you this day in the table prepared for your forgiveness, life and salvation.  But remember one of the benefits of the Lord’s Supper is the strengthening of faith.  Just as Elijah was strengthened for his journey, and the Israelites sustained by mana in the wilderness, so the sustenance of Christ’s true body and blood is given to sustain you, to strengthen and preserve you in the true faith – even to life everlasting.

Believing is hard.  But you’re not on your own.  In fact it’s really not up to you at all.  Trust, rather, in the one who has the words of eternal life – and gives them to you freely, even Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen. 

 

Sermon - Pentecost 11 - Ephesians 4:17-5:2

 

Ephesians 4:17-5:2 

“Off With the Old, On With the New!”

It’s getting to be that time of year again when kids go back to school, and as we prepare for it, time to freshen up the wardrobe.  There’s nothing quite like the feel of a fresh new outfit or a new pair of shoes.  And we are blessed to live in a time and place in which what we will wear isn’t a major worry for most of us but rather a matter of taste and style.

St. Paul uses the idea of clothing in our Epistle today as a metaphor for the Christian life, in which he compares our old nature and new nature to a change of outfit.  He tells us to “Put off the old self” and to “Put on the new self”.  He spends some time describing the difference between the two.  So let’s take a closer look at this contrast this morning, and finally also at just how it works for us that we may indeed “Put on the new self” in Christ.

Now, to be honest, there’s quite a bit of law talk in this section of Ephesians.  It’s the portion of his letter that some call “paraenesis”, or encouragement for living.  If you think of the Epistle like a sermon, you have your law, your Gospel, and then often times a sort of “so what?” or “How does this look in practice?  What difference does the Gospel make in my life?  How shall we, then, live?”  That’s what Paul’s getting at in most of this passage.  And it’s important for us to hear it.

Lutherans have been falsely accused, ever since Luther, of not teaching good works.  Of neglecting, or even despising the idea that Scripture gives us guidance for how to live.  We certainly emphasize grace – that undeserved love God has for us in Christ.  And we place salvation by grace through faith in Christ at the forefront of everything we teach and believe.  It’s the chief teaching of Scripture, after all.  Without it, everything just devolves into works righteousness.  And shame on us if we don’t preach Christ crucified for sinners, and if that good news doesn’t predominate in all things.

And yet, we Lutherans also recognize the tensions between law and gospel, faith and works, and between the two natures that contend within us.  The Small Catechism, speaking of baptism, shows how by daily repentance and faith the old Adam is drowned and dies, and the new man emerges to live before God.  Buried and raised with Christ in baptism, we are, daily.

This is really what Paul is talking about here with this business of putting off the old self and putting on the new.  It is the daily struggle of the Christian to turn away from the old nature, the old ways, the sinful things – and in repentance and faith – to live the new life in Christ.  We do it – not in order to be saved or redeemed or justified.  We do it because we HAVE been redeemed and saved and justified in Christ!

Paul reminds them – and us – that these wicked ways – that’s not how you learned Christ!  That’s not how you were taught!  That’s not the kind of disciple he made you to be!

And yet we see it in our church, in our fellow Christians, and of course also in ourselves.  Just look at some of the Gentile ways Paul warns us about:

Darkened in understanding.  Alienated from the life of God.  Ignorant and hard-hearted.  Callous.  Now, Paul is speaking spiritually here, not academically, about the lack of understanding.  But when we sin we act as fools who don’t know any better! We act as though we don’t have faith.  We operate like someone with a deadened conscience that is even eager to find new ways to sin “greedy to practice every kind of impurity” But that’s not who you really are, Paul would remind us.

Look at some of the other descriptions of the old self:  corrupt through deceitful desires.  Yes, even our desires betray our old nature – they are corrupt.  And yet the Christian is a complicated mess of both sinful and godly desires.  

Speaking falsehood.  It’s not just the thoughts and deeds but also the words that get us into trouble.  And while most of us would like to think we are honest people – that is also a lie we tell ourselves.  We are good at shaving the truth, sculpting and molding it, in what we say and how we say it – to our own benefit, and not for the good of others and the glory of God.  

Later he speaks of “corrupting talk” and contrasts it with talk that builds up, giving grace.  We could speak of gossip and slander and all the other ways we speak sinfully about our neighbor, and the many opportunities to speak kindly and well that we miss – sins of omission – times we could have built someone up.

He says, “Be angry and do not sin”.  But that’s not a license to be angry, it’s a warning!  A stark reminder that anger is the devil’s playground, an opportunity for Satan to slither in and do his dirty work in your life.  If there is such a thing as righteous anger amongst us humans, it is a spiritual tightrope from which we easily lose our balance and fall into sin.  So don’t let the sun go down on your anger – that is – don’t let it fester.  Either let it go or work it out with whoever made you angry – so that peace is restored and the Devil is out of business.

Don’t be a thief, but do honest work – and don’t forget to share with those in need.

And put away all bitterness, wrath, slander and malice.  

And maybe this is the summary of it all:  Do not grieve the Holy Spirit.  When Christians forget who we are, when we act like the sinful world, when we give in to our sinful nature – we grieve the Spirit.  Think of that!

The alternative, of course, is where we are aiming.  To walk in love.  To be kind to one another, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.  To be imitators of God, beloved children who want to be like our Father, and our perfect big brother, Jesus Christ.

To imitate him, though, supposes we know him. And we do.  We have seen all that Christ has done for us.  Here’s the gospel, friends.  Here’s the antidote to all our sinning.

Christ walked in love.  His incarnation itself was an act of divine love – that God on high would come down from his throne to be born a lowly man, take on sinful flesh, enter into our hall of death and breathe our poisoned air.  To walk in love the dusty roads of Galilee, Samaria, Judea, and to love people at every turn, healing, casting out demons, and proclaiming good news to the poor.

His walk of love had an ugly end, though, as he shouldered all sin along with that cross, and though he stumbled physically never did his feet turn from the path to Calvary.  Never did his determination to take our place waver of fail.  He talked the talk and walked the walk of love for us, even unto death, even death on a cross.

And imitators of Christ, he calls you to follow him.  Not to die for the sins of the world, but to consider yourself dead to sin.  Not to die on the cross of Calvary but to take up your own cross, whatever it may be.  And to carry it with faith and trust that His cross makes it all worth it.

He gave himself as a fragrant sacrifice to God – a pleasing aroma – and made complete satisfaction for our sins.  His blood covers all the sins Paul mentions in this laundry list of the old self – and all sins that ever were and will be.  We forgive one another – we can forgive one another – as God in Christ forgave you.

So put off your old self, Christian.  Every day. Like a filthy outer garment stained and torn, something you’d hate to be caught dead in.  Repent of all sins – whatever from Paul’s long list has caught your conscience today.  Out with the old.  And in with the new.

And put on the new self in Christ.  Every day. The robe of righteousness.  The wedding attire of one who is pure and holy.  The festal clothing that only comes with forgiveness in the blood of Christ.

And walk in his love, your whole life through, until you reach your goal and he calls you home.  

Sermon - Pentecost 9 - Mark 6:45-52

 

Mark 6:45-52

“He Walks On Water”

“Oh, he thinks he walks on water!”  It’s become one of those cultural euphemisms for people who think too highly of themselves.  Or of someone who regards another person as above criticism, someone who, in the eyes of others, can do no wrong.  It’s a sort of a roundabout way of comparing someone to the Jesus himself – either in a sarcastic or absurd fashion.  And yet, I think when many people use the phrase, they forget where it came from, and aren’t thinking much of Jesus at all.

Jesus walks on water.  And we can say that in an un-ironic, completely serious way.  For Mark tells us just that in this account we hear today.  Just after the feeding of the 5000, Jesus tells his disciples to get back in the boat and head toward the other side again, to Bethsaida.  He takes care of dismissing the crowd, and then goes up the mountain to pray.  Back to business as usual, it would seem. 

But for the disciples, business is not as usual.  Jesus set them out on the sea at night, not in the safety of daylight.  The wind was against them.  The boat was having a hard time making any progress.  And most commentators seem to agree that this strange wind was a divinely appointed obstacle, not just a natural happenstance.  Again, Jesus sets before his disciples a difficult task.  One wonders if they grew resentful.  Why is he asking us to do this?  Where is he when we need him?

For his part, Jesus is praying.  What is he praying about?  We don’t know for sure but here are some possibilities: 

The news of the Baptist's death (verse 12) which must have filled Him with foreboding of His own death, a year hence (John 6:4);

He had just overcome the temptation to be proclaimed an earthly king by the crowds he had fed.

Likely He foresaw that the remnants of the 5,000 would totally reject Him, the Living Bread from Heaven, the next day, as we read in John 6.

 

And likely, he also prayed for the 12 - who were in danger for a number of reasons and needed to pass a severe test the next day. When the crowds would desert him Jesus asked them, “are you leaving too?” and Peter answered as we sing, “Lord, to whom shall we go?  You have the words of eternal life!”

Last, but not least, the betrayal of Judas was on His mind, as we also read in John 6.

But as he prays, he’s also watching them from his mountaintop retreat.  He sees them in their difficulties, and perhaps it wasn’t his original plan, but he descends to come to them, though he meant to pass them by.

Now, let’s stop here for a moment.  “Pass them by” – an important little phrase that we might too quickly pass by.  But think of this, when does God “pass by?”

There are two Old Testament stories that come to mind.  One with Moses, and the other with Elijah.

When Moses was on Mt. Sinai, we have our first example from Exodus 33:

"Moses said, “Please show me Your glory.” And [God] said, “I will make all My goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you My name ‘The LORD.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. But,” He said, “you cannot see My face, for man shall not see Me and live.” And the LORD said, “Behold, there is a place by Me where you shall stand on the rock, and while My glory passes by I will put you in a cleft of the rock, and I will cover you with My Hand until I have passed by. Then I will take away My Hand, and you shall see My back, but My face shall not be seen.”

Here we learn that sinful man, even a great man like Moses, cannot see the glory of God full-on.  The nearest glimpse Moses got was of the backside of God as he passed by, and even that was a great and wonderful blessing.

But here, in Christ, the Disciples get something even better.  Here, in Christ, God does not pass by, but stops to help them, stops to join them.  He, who is clearly divine – and shows it – not only by multiplying loaves but also by mastering the sea and strolling on it so easily – the glory of God is now revealed to the disciples in the person of Jesus Christ.  He does not pass them by, but he enters their boat, for he has already entered human flesh and become one of them, one of us.  Herein we have the great mystery of the incarnation – God and man in one person of Christ.

And then in 1 Kings 19 we have God passing by Elijah:

"There [Elijah] came to a cave and lodged in it. And behold, The Word of the LORD came to him, and He said to him, “What are you doing here, Elijah?” He said, “I have been very jealous for the LORD, the God of hosts. For the people of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, thrown down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away.” And [The Word of the LORD] said, “Go out and stand on the mount before the LORD.” And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. And when Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. And behold, there came a voice to him and said, “What are you doing here, Elijah?”

Ah yes, Elijah’s story shows us that when God passes by it is often as we least expect, not in the powerful windstorm or the earthquake that shatters rocks, or the fiery maelstrom.  It’s in the quiet whisper of the word that God is found.

So also, here, with Christ.  In the dark of the night, when they least expected him, HOW they least expected him, comes the Christ.  The miracles come, one after the other – the feeding of 5000, the walking on water – but also the calming of the wind as he climbed in the boat.  But perhaps the most striking is what seems most mundane – that God in the flesh was here, with them, and joined them in their boat.  That Jesus would regard them, help them, be with them at all.

Jesus walks on water, friends, but you and I certainly do not.  Jesus is master of nature and Lord of all creation.  You are a lowly creature, subject to the laws of nature, and captive to the corruption of sin in which you are born. Jesus walks on water, because of course he does.  You walk in the valley of the shadow of death, in the midst of a world of death and sin.  You stumble from one sin to the next – thought word and deed – stepping always through a minefield of your own making.  And sometimes those mines explode in your face.

But the good news is, Jesus is with you.  The God-man who walks on water, walks with you.  And he has walked before you, through his own life, even all the way.  He walked the dusty roads of Galilee.  He walked into and out of dangers, toils and snares, into the wilderness, through the crowd that sought to cast him off a cliff.  He preached all around the villages and towns, and even went to pagans and Samaritans. 

He easily treaded the crashing waves.  But he most importantly walked under the weight of the cross, carrying it along with all your sins, to his goal – to Calvary.  To death.  How beautiful upon that mountain are the nail-pierced feet of him who brings good news by his glorious death for all sinful people, for you, for me.

Here, Jesus is not passed over, so that you would be passed over.  He shows himself to be the true Passover lamb, whose blood is shed so that your blood is not shed.  Who is sacrificed in your place.  Punishment and wrath did not pass him by, but in him, by him, you as passed over, thanks be to God!

The disciples didn’t understand about the loaves.  The disciples didn’t understand about the walking on the water.  They thought they were seeing a ghost.  Their hearts were hardened.  Their faith was lacking.  But Jesus continued to come and reveal to them who he truly is, and what he comes to do.  He is no ghost – he’s flesh and blood!  He’s true man, even as he is true God. 

Once again we will see Jesus demonstrating his divinity – and again we can call Moses and Elijah to witness.  There on the Mt. of Transfiguration Jesus would show his disciples a glimpse of his glory in a very visual way.  Moses and Elijah testify by their presence, and then by their disappearance, as indeed all the law and prophets testify that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that salvation is only him.  And when Moses and Elijah are gone, the disciples are left with Jesus only.  And that, of course, is enough.

Christ comes today, and we would not see him pass us by.  He comes not in full-on radiant glory, not in wind and storm and quake and fire.  He comes not walking on water.  He comes in the whisper of his word, preached and proclaimed, sung and prayed.  He comes in the bread and wine, the true Paschal lamb once slain but now alive forevermore.

And he comes to help us.  His presence always helps.  In the word and meal he brings himself, his forgiveness, his salvation, his life.  He who walks on water, also treads death and devil underfoot, and brings us a share in his victory.

Therefore with Jesus there is really nothing to fear.  There is no reason to lose heart.  He even says so, “Take heart;  it is I.  Do not be afraid.”

He comes not to scare us or judge us or even just to teach us a better way.  He comes to save.  To do the saving.  To take away all cause of fear. 

This doesn’t mean this life won’t be rough sailing at times.  The wind might be against us, the waves lapping at our boat.  But we have Jesus, the God-man.  We have his presence and his promise.  He walks on water.  He will certainly walk with us.  Look to him for help, and he will never pass you by.

In Jesus Name.  Amen.