LCMS on Facebook

I noticed a group on Facebook:

"LCMS Lutherans for compassion and change"

Uh-oh, I thought. Red flags here.

Here's the group description:

a group of LCMS Lutherans who are seeking for the compassion of Jesus (not the dogma of Walther) to be the main characteristic of the synod. We're a group of disciples of Jesus who wonder what would happen if we acted more in trust and blessing, and less in fear and control....more in unity of the essentials and less in uniformity of everything. We welcome anyone to join in the conversation!

My thoughts:
1. I am tired of seeing the false alternative of Compassion vs. Doctrine, or Mission vs. Doctrine, or Love vs. Doctrine, or Dogma, or Theology. There is no reason we can't strive for both. You NEVER hear anyone saying that we should eschew compassion in order to pursue doctrine. (See "Maintenence vs. Mission")

1a. What's wrong with the "dogma of Walther"? I find that when people choose the word "dogma" instead of "doctrine" or "teaching", they often seek to stigmatize it.

2. What does it mean to "act more in trust and blessing, and less in fear and control"? To me, this is law-talk. Of course we should all be nicer, kinder, more loving. But isn't being Lutheran primarily about the Gospel? Isn't it the love of Christ that motivates our love and compassion, and not the scolding of fellow Christians in our fellowship?

3. "Unity in essentials" is pitted against the straw-man of "Unity in everything". While I know the traditional/confessional/conservative wing of the LCMS places more emphasis on unity, they do not, in my experience, seek to legislate unity, but instead they encourage it. They do not seek "unity in everything", as if that were possible, but they do decry the "every-man-for-himself" mentality in which each congregation is a rule to itself. That's part of "walking together".

What exactly is "Unity in essentials", anyway? It seems a rather squishy kind of unity. Whose definition of "essential"? What would that be? Shouldn't we, couldn't we strive for more?

Suggesting some are in favor of an absolute uniformity in the LCMS is, however, dishonest at worst and mistaken at best. But what we have now is very far from the unity we could have (and once did have).

4. Reading through some of the discussions, I started to become VERY concerned about the denegration of doctrine, by layperson and clergy alike. Some disturbing stuff there. Is this how people in the LCMS really think?

"Just a Theory"

When believers in creation and believers in evolution argue (or discuss), the conversation often turns to evolution's status as a "theory". It usually goes something like this:

Creationist: "Evolution is just a theory"

Evolutionist: "So is the Theory of Gravity"

But according to this article, there isn't really any agreement in what constitutes a "theory" and even, what separates science from "psuedo-science".

There's more to this discussion that sound-byte slaps. Epistemology and the Philosophy of Science are worth considering too.

Tattoos

At our confirmation class tonight, while discussing the care of our bodies under the 5th commandment, the question of tattoos arose. Of course the 8th graders just want to know if they can or can't get one. But I encouraged them to think of the whole question in terms of the commandments.

"First of all, consider the 4th commandment" I said, "if you are under 18, the first thing you have to do is honor your parents..."

To which a quick-witted student quipped, "So we could get a tattoo with a heart that says 'Mom'?"

Siemon-Netto on Dr. Tiller

Dr. Siemon-Netto has a recent piece, re-posted about the blogosphere in several places. The whole thing is worth the read, but he ends with this powerful anecdote:

Down in Wichita, Kansas, there is a physician by the name of George Tiller. On his website he boasts that he has already performed 60,000 abortions, mostly late-term, and week after week he is killing 100 more unborn babies.

Dr. Tiller does not think of these fetuses as clusters of cancerous cells. He knows they are human because he baptizes some of them before he incinerates them in his own crematorium. You don’t baptize non-humans. Dr. Tiller knows that. He is a practicing Lutheran. His former congregation, Holy Cross of the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod, excommunicated him as an unrepentant sinner. But the Lutheran Church of the Reformation, which belongs to the ELCA, communes him. Did I mention that he kills 100 human beings every week and has already done away with 60.000? Sixty thousand! In Nuremberg they hanged some fiends for murdering less than 60 — zero point one percent of Tiller’s toll.

While the Tiller story is dispicible enough, I was fascinated by the response of these two Lutheran churches, which couldn't be further apart on the matter. Kudos to the LCMS congregation for taking a stand against unrepentant sin.

Holy Cross, the LCMS church here,
and Reformation, the ELCA church here.

And some say that a Lutheran is a Lutheran...

Sermon - Pentecost 22 - Matthew 22:1-14

Matthew 22:1-14
Pentecost 22
“Come to the Feast”

Today we come to another kingdom parable of Jesus, and this one uses the picture of a wedding feast. As usual, the earthly story has a heavenly meaning – here are both words of law and judgment but also grace and mercy. Here again, Jesus points us to the Gospel, and the free gift of salvation he offers, which he won for us at the cross. Let's take a closer look at the parable of the wedding feast.

As usual, the stories Jesus tells capture our imagination. The king throws a feast for his son's wedding. He invites the guests, but strangely, they don't come. You'd think they would be honored. You'd think they would come quickly and joyfully to the feast – not just any wedding, but a royal wedding – an invitation from the king himself! But some ignore the invitation – we aren't told why. Then the king invites them again, and they find better things to do – tending the farm, minding the shop. Even more bizarre, some mistreat the servants bearing the invitation and even kill them. Talk about “don't kill the messenger!”

Here the heavenly meaning is clear. God the Father, the king, sends invitations of grace and mercy, not to a literal wedding feast, but to faith in his Son. And here, Jesus summarizes the history of God's chosen people – who repeatedly ignored his grace and mercy, and even mistreated and killed the prophets. Soon their mistreatment of God's messengers would reach its apex as they put the very Son of God to death. They would even kill the Apostles, all of whom met violent death except for St. John.

And so, Jesus predicts the destruction of ancient Jerusalem, which came to pass nearly 40 years later. In 70 A.D. The Roman general Titus sacked the city, and dispersed the Jews from their homeland. The very temple of God was destroyed. Jesus knew it would happen. It was the punishment of God upon a people who, as a whole, rejected his repeated calls to faith, and finally refused to hear the good news of his son. But it is a mere shadow of the final destruction in store for all who reject the Christ in this life – a foretaste of the condemnation and wrath to be revealed on the day of judgment.

So the king turns to others, inviting anyone and everyone to come to the feast. Here we have the invitation to the Gentiles. The Gospel is free and freely preached to all people – rich and poor, men and women, young and old, from all tribes and languages. And so we have seen the good news of Jesus Christ touch every corner of the world. Most of us have come to the kingdom only through this world-wide invitation, and thank God for that. For now we enjoy the blessings of his banquet, the lavish food of his feast.

What about the garment? In ancient wedding custom, appropriate dress for such a high occasion included a special garment which was provided by the host. To reject it was to reject the host's generosity and favor, and would have been a social insult. The man seemed to accept the invitation, but in reality didn't. So the king treats the man harshly who was found without proper attire. He had no excuse for his lack of wedding garment.

The garment reminds us of the robe of Christ's righteousness each of us has received in Holy Baptism. There he covers our sin with his grace and mercy, which keeps us our whole life through. When, at Christian funerals, the body of our loved one is brought here to God's house, a white pall – a garment – drapes the casket, to signify that robe of righteousness.

And we do well to receive this garment. For too often we are tempted to think our own clothes will do. But the filthy rags of our own good works do not make us presentable. Only what he provides will do. Only through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ are we made righteous and holy. Our own works are simply a response to his goodness, but they don't earn us a thing. Salvation is a free gift. The invitation of the king is without cost.

And what Lutheran could read a story of a great feast given by the king and not think of the Lord's Supper. For in this royal feast, he gives us all the same blessings – forgiveness of sins, life and salvation. We are worthy to receive such things only by faith, and especially faith in the promises of Christ, “this is my body- this is my blood.... given and shed for you for the forgiveness of your sins”.

The feast of the Lord's Supper is also a foretaste of the feast to come. It's not an accident that Revelation pictures the kingdom to come as a wedding celebration – the great consummation of the Lamb, Jesus Christ, and his bride, the church. When we gather at his table here, we gather with all the people of God from all times and places, and even those already gathered to him.... we join at table in a grand feast of celebration and receive his bountiful provision. What could be better?

In this parable which Jesus told during Holy Week, he compares the kingdom to a great wedding feast. And he warns of destruction and dishonor for all who reject the invitation and the king's provision. But for those who receive the gifts he gives, the King and his Son provide a royal banquet without end. Thank God that through his Son Jesus Christ we are invited to the feast. May we wear his robe of righteousness with thankfulness and celebrate with him eternally. And today, receive our foretaste of the feast to come, as we gather at his invitation.

In Jesus' Name, Amen.

Mission and Maintenance, Again...

I once blogged about a commonly-promoted false alternative in the LCMS, "Mission vs. Maintenance".

Recently, I was checking out church websites doing some "forward scouting" for some members of our congregation who are moving. And in a church newsletter posted online, I found this blurb:

MAINTENANCE VS. MISSION CONGREGATIONS:
In measuring the effectiveness, the maintenance congregations
asks, “How many pastoral visits are being made:” The
mission congregation asks, “How many disciples are being
made?” ——taken from “Issues”

First, I should point out they are NOT quoting from the radio program, "Issues, Etc." but from the print journal out of Concordia, Seward, "Issues in Christian Education".

Second, I am peeved again that the false alternative between mission and maintenance is alive and well.

Third, I notice the focus of the mission approach is on results, and the focus of the maintenance is on process? That reminded me of the recent insightful post by the Lutheran Logomaniac.

But really, this obsession with counting has got to stop. Measuring, assessing, visioning, revitalizing, all these secular/business approaches which actually keep us from doing what we should be doing - preaching, teaching, and confessing the Gospel of Jesus Christ - to anyone who will hear it - even if they are already members of our congregation!

"Massage Ministry"?

From the stranger-than-fictions files, check out this story about a pastor running a prostitution ring in Arizona.

Harrison Blogs

Hey, I've noticed that Pastor Matt Harrison has been blogging quite a bit lately. He's definitely worth checking out.

You might also want to stop by Harrison for President and check out more about him.

Another Pastor Confusing Kingdoms

Local story about a pastor clearly endorsing McCain from the puplit.

My response on the newspaper's blog site:

This pastor crossed the fine line between speaking the truth of scripture and making a logical leap which was not his to make.

Clearly, abortion is against scripture. Voting for McCain or Obama is not clearly taught in scripture.

Endorsing specific candidates or even specific plans in the political realm is not the place of Christian pastors. Ours is to teach the principles of the Bible and let parishioners connect the dots themselves in the booth.

Unfortunately, too many pastors on both the right AND the left muddy the waters between these two areas of life.

He should go and learn what this means."Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's, and to God what is God's"

Sermon - Pentecost 20 - Matthew 21:23-27

Matthew 21:23-27
Pentecost 20
“Good and Bad Questions”

The question was this, “by what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” In other words, “Jesus, who do you think you are? Where do you get off making a mess of our temple, overturning tables and chasing away our merchants? And just what gives you the right to criticize us, the powers that be? We are the chief priests, the elders of the people! Don't you know who we are?” A lot of questions tied up in this question, “By what authority...?”

Now, when Jesus matches wits with the Jewish leaders – it's never a fair fight. Whether they are trying to trap him with a question about taxes, or about marriage in heaven, or some other funny business, these so-called wise men are perpetually rebuked, defeated, and made to look foolish by the simple country preacher.

They can't even answer a simple question about John the Baptist without a huddle and conference, and even then, the answer is, “we don't know”. They really thought they knew the answer. They just didn't want to say. They were afraid of the crowds that followed Jesus, and would simply find another time, when the crowds were gone. They would get this Jesus yet, or so they thought.

But why the challenge in the first place? Why didn't they believe in Jesus? Why didn't they recognize his authority? Why didn't they listen to his preaching and teaching?

And why don't we (at least, not all the time)? These are good questions, aren't they? In our reading from Phillipians today, Paul warns them not to grumble or question. So are all questions bad? How about the rhetorical one's I'm asking now? Today – the question of questions, and questioning. I think we'll all agree, there are good questions and bad questions.

The bad questions are the questions of rebellion and sin. They are the questions that challenge rightful authority – and are really a challenge to God. This is the kind of question the Jews asked of Jesus. “By what authority....?” they asked, but it was less a question and more an attack, an assertion that he doesn't, in fact, have the authority to do what he does. They thought they were the ones in charge, but that had misused their authority. They ignored John's call to repentance, and they had no use for the good news of Jesus. They weren't interested in the truth, as much as in their own power and prestige, their own precious places of honor.

Jesus turns it around on them. He questions them, and thus exerts, rather than explains his authority. “I'll ask the questions, here” he says, and puts a tough one to them.

When it comes to our questioning, there are certainly good and bad questions. There are simple questions of information - “what's for dinner?”. There are questions of life-long importance, “will you marry me?” And then there are the questions of faith. “What must I do to be saved?” “Can God love even me?” “Do you believe this?”

The Jews ask Jesus a question which is really a challenge, a question of rebellion. Jesus asks them a question of faith. Did they believe in John or not? They took it as a political question, and gave a political answer, looking foolish in the process. But what Matthew reveals is their lack of faith in John's authority, and in Jesus' authority.

Do we trust Jesus' authority? Now there's a question. Our sinful nature sure acts like we are our own authority. We decide for ourselves what is right and wrong, according to the convenience of the moment, the pleasures at hand. Then we rationalize away our sins and faults and failings and blame others, blame situations, sometimes even blame God himself. But when the question is posed to us by God's law.... when we hear Jesus saying “Love God with all your heart, soul, mind.... Love your neighbor as yourself”. And when we ask ourselves how we measure up... then we go into a huddle, like the Pharisees. And what will our answer be?

We must answer honestly. We have failed our Lord. We don't love God or man as we ought. We have no good answer for our sin.

And the questions we ask, lacking faith in God, also are without excuse. Now, mind you, it's not that any question is bad. Certainly God's people have questioned, wondered, and sought answers from God. And when done in faith, such questioning is good and proper. Think of the 12 year old boy, Jesus, who questioned the elders at the temple. And they were amazed with his growing wisdom and stature. Or when we ask questions for learning, “what does this mean?” in our catechism... And even those questions of repentance, “Will you forgive me, O Lord?”. These are all good questions.

But when Paul says not to grumble and question, this is a different thing. This kind of questioning challenges and doubts God. It places our own wisdom above his. This is the questioning of pride, which seeks to make God answer to us, which puts God to the test. We are in no place to judge him, and yet we so often forget our place.

So how does God answer? To the bad questions – sometimes he does not answer. Like Jesus, “neither will I answer you”. Some questions don't deserve an answer, because they are not really questions but challenges. And God is not subject to us. Other bad questions get answers we might not like to hear. Questions of doubt and rebellion might be met with stern rebuke, or harsh words of law.

But those good questions – God answers them with Good News. His word is a treasure trove of answers for questions of faith.

Q: “Who then, can be saved?”
A: “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible”.

Q: What will happen when I die?
A: Fear not. Christ is risen, and we too shall rise.

Q: Will God hold my sins against me?
A: Your sins are forgiven. Now go and sin no more.

Q: Does God really love me? A: For God so loved the world he sent his only Son.

All good questions, and the answers are good news. For when we come to God through Christ, in repentance and faith, we always find our answer. And that answer is Jesus Christ crucified for sinners like me.

“By what authority do you do these things?” they asked. Bad question. “Jesus, what word do you have for me today?” A good question. Hear today his word of forgiveness and love. And believe it, for his sake. In his name, Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 19 - Matthew 20:1-16

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

40's

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sermon - Pentecost 17 - Matthew 18:1-20

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet sin is still with us.

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

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

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

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

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

Sermon - Pentecost 16 - Matthew 16:21-28

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was bound to happen...

Guitar Hero for Christians.

Rock on. Or don't.

Well, it's true....

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

(And Lambeau Field is heaven)

Sermon - Pentecost 14 - Matthew 15:21-28

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That's PASTOR Sumo to you!

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

Sermon - Pentecost 13 - Matthew 14:22-33

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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