Sermon - Lent Midweek 5 - Holy Baptism

Holy Baptism

Matthew 28:16-20

“To Jordan Came the Christ, Our Lord” (LSB 407)

We’ve been considering, during this midweek series, the Small Catechism of Martin Luther along with some of his “catechism hymns”.  Luther wrote many hymns, hymn texts, hymn tunes and updated old tunes to align their theology with Scripture.  He wrote hymns for his German Mass – to take the place of the Kyrie, Gloria, Creed, Sanctus, etc.  He wrote hymns that were metrical paraphrases of the Psalms.  And he also wrote hymns specifically to teach the doctrine of the Catechism – and this one is one of those.  It bore an original heading, “A spiritual song of our Holy Baptism, which is a fine summary of what it is, who established it, and what its benefits are”  Luther involved many others in his production of hymns, poets, theologians and musicians, and none more prominent than Johan Sebastian Bach. 

This particular hymn was written late in Luther’s career, sometime in 1540 or 1541, in conjunction with a couple of sermons on the topic of Holy Baptism.  But it wasn’t until 1962 that it was translated into English and heard on the radio – as part of the Lutheran Hour program.  Then, in 2004 a new tune was written to go with it – the tune our congregation has become familiar with.  So we have quite a little history wrapped up in this little hymn.

But beyond that, just on its own terms, the hymn is an excellent sermon on the doctrine of Baptism. 

Verse 1 tells us about Christ’s baptism, which Luther then uses as a springboard to teach about our own baptism.  Jesus comes to baptism to do his Father’s will, or pleasure.  In His baptism, Jesus the “Father’s Word” is given us to treasure.  It is, as it were, his ordination as Messiah – God sets him aside as the one appointed to do his will – the one Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world.  Luther doesn’t wait till verse two, but immediately connects Jesus’ baptism to the cross.  Of course, Jesus does the same when he tells James and John that he indeed has a cup to drink and a baptism to undergo.  Luther refers to it this way: “And by his blood and agony release from death’s oppression”

You see, Jesus’ baptism is part and parcel of his death on the cross.  They go together.  They may be separated by three years but they are all bound up together and inseparable, indivisible.  But so too is Jesus’ baptism and your baptism.  And so too therefore, Jesus’ cross and your baptism.  Paul says, “we were buried with Christ, by baptism, into death”.  These waters run deep, and drip with blessings.

Verse 2 begins rehearsing the main teachings of the Catechism about Holy Baptism.  Here we have the question, “What is baptism?” which Luther answers, “[it’s] not just plain water, but the water included in God’s command and combined with God’s word”  or sung in the hymn, “Our Lord here with His Word endows pure water freely flowing”.  It is the word of God that makes baptism baptism.  It’s not some power of the pastor, or magic incantation.  It’s not some special process our mystical ritual done to the water.  But rather the word takes center stage, and the promises that word holds out to us in baptism.  It is Christ’ own charge to “Go and make disciples of all nations… baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  And here, in baptism, the Holy Spirit our kinship here avows.  That is, baptized into the name of God, we are incorporated into him, made one with him, as close as family.

Verse 3 and 4 return to Jesus’ baptism and the voice of the Father which commands and invites our trust in Christ, and in the word he has spoken.  The Trine God was present that day and on full display – the Father’s voice, the Spirit’s descent, the Son standing in the water.  So, also in our baptism, we receive the name of the Trine God “assuring us with promises compelling”.

Verse 5 re-tells the “Great Commission” of Matthew 28, the chief passage in the New Testament concerning baptism (also my own confirmation verse).  There Jesus commands the 12, as they go, to make disciples of all nations.  And the making of disciples has two verbs – to things to do – baptize and teach.  Here Luther also shows that baptism incorporates repentance – that is that we would “abandon sin and come in true contrition”.  In the catechism he expounds that baptism, for the Christian, is a daily event, drowning the Old Adam by repentance and faith. 

Baptism is, in this way, very much what the Christian life is all about.  A daily renewal, an ongoing cycle of sin and grace, law and gospel, repentance and forgiveness. 

Verse 6 is a stern warning that Baptism is a gift that can be thrown away, cast aside.  Just as faith itself can be.  Apart from the grace of God, the gifts of God – given in Word and Sacrament. People, of course, try to do this – through works (that must fail), through striving, that can’t succeed, and by pious acts that may look very religious on the outside, but have no power to save.  There is no other way of salvation than that comes by the blood of Christ, the gift of God’s free grace, and all that comes to us, through the waters of baptism.  With Christ we have everything.  Apart from Christ we have nothing, and worse.

And verse 7 shows us that Baptism hold far more gifts and blessings than the eye can see.  Only the perception of faith can unfold the power of baptism.  It is the power of Jesus blood – that brings healing to all our ills.  It reveals the love of God, and assures us of pardon. 

We can hardly say enough about the blessed gift of Holy Baptism.  We can scarcely do it justice.  We can sing of it, teach it to our children, confess it, and live it.  We can remember this divine flood of blessings every day. 

And what a better reminder of it than that common everyday thing – water.  Luther said, “when you wash your face, remember your baptism”.  In these days of everyone trying to stay clear of a nasty virus, washing our hands perhaps like never before – what a good time to remember your baptism!  With every squirt of hand sanitizer (if you still have any), why not give thanks for the sanitization of our soul?  With every trip to the sink to wash your hands – why not sing a hymn, say the Lord’s Prayer, and give thanks to the one who has saved us through the waters. 

Dear Christian, you are baptized.  Your baptism connects you with Jesus, who by his baptism united himself with you.  And if we have been united in baptism, then we are also united with him in a death like his, and we will also be united with him in a resurrection like his.  Yes, baptism is the seal that marks you as one destined for resurrection, and life in heaven forever.

All that, packed into a little water and some simple but powerful words. 

As we inch ever closer to Holy Week and Easter, we consider all that Christ has done for us.  How he suffered and died for the sins of the world.  Of course that includes you and me, and all people.  But in Holy Baptism, he gets personal.  He calls you by name, and makes you his own, and bestows a flood of blessings.  Thanks be to God that you and I are baptized, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon - Lent 4 - Ephesians 5:8-14

“Darkness and Light”
Ephesians 5:8-14

All of our readings today deal with, one way or another, the topics of darkness and light.  In the Gospel reading, Jesus heals a man born blind.  In the Old Testament, God speaks of what Israel (as a people) are blind to see.  And Paul’s words to the Ephesians this morning speak of darkness and light – and what is visible and exposed by the light.  This morning, we’ll focus especially on the reading from Ephesians.  But first some broader comments.

Darkness and Light are two of the most important and most universal pictures in Holy Scripture.  They are experiences common to us all.  So much of what God’s Word teaches us uses familiar and everyday examples – things like family, food, water, and agriculture.  They are conditions so much a part of our everyday life that we hardly think much of them.  And yet, even with all our modern science, there are many things about light that are still mysterious.  The speed of light is a barrier that physics says cannot be broken.  Light acts as a wave or as particles, depending on whether it’s being observed.  There’s a host of puzzling properties and questions that quantum physics has raised concerning light – that still remain to be unraveled.  Still, light is something so common and everyday that we all basically understand how it works, and why it’s important.

Darkness is, in a way, the default.  We could see nothing without light.  In the darkness, we’d be lost.  We’d be fumbling around without information about our surroundings.  We couldn’t make use of our eyes, our vision.  Without light, we would be effectively blind – like the man Jesus healed in our Gospel reading. 

For us, especially as children, darkness is a place of fear.  It represents the unknown, and the place where unsavory and fearful things lurk.  Many of us, even lately, have used darkness as a metaphor for the unusual times we are living through – and at least for now, the near future seems a bit clouded in darkness.  How much longer before we can get back to normal?  Just how bad will the disease turn out to be?  Dark times, indeed.  Lord, have mercy.

Darkness and light take us back to the beginning, the very beginning, when in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.  And the earth was formless and void.  It was dark.  And God said, “Let there be light”.  The very first words God spoke are words of creation – and words that created light.  God then went on, during that week to both separate the light and the darkness, and to create great lights to govern the day and the night, and also the stars.  And by the way, what a testament to God’s almighty power, that the creation of the stars – in all their countless numbers and unfathomable variety and order – all God created, and Genesis mentions it with but 4 words – “and also the stars”.

Light continues to be an important gift from God throughout the Scriptures.  Think about the pillar of fire by night – in which God made his presence known among the people.  The golden lampstands of the tabernacle.  The Sun standing still to extend the daylight so the Israelite army could defeat their enemies.  Or in the New Testament – the light from the Star of Bethlehem, or the light that shone from Jesus at the Transfiguration.  We could go on and on.

But more than that, light stands as a symbol and reminder of the true light that God bestows through his Holy Spirit.  The One who calls, gathers and en-LIGHT-ens.  The one who shines the spotlight on Jesus, by setting before us the Gospel light.

Here we pick up St. Paul in the Epistle reading today – who works these metaphors some more.  He says, “at one time you were darkness”.

Not you were sitting in the darkness (though we could say that too).  Not you were under the cloud of darkness.  Not you were alone in the dark of your sins.  You WERE darkness.  It’s emphatic language.  In this one little phrase Paul expresses just how deep our condition of sin really is, or was, rather, before Christ saved us.  Each of us is conceived and born into that darkness, and just as much a part of it as the rest of the sinful fallen world.  Each of us can do no good, claim no righteousness or merit.  Of our own devices we don’t have a glimmer of hope or a ray of light to offer. 

But in the same breath Paul throws open the sash on the gospel.  You were once darkness, but you now are light in the Lord.  The same strong metaphor holds.  If you are in the Lord.  If you are in Christ Jesus.  You are light.  You’re not just en-light-ened.  You’re not just able to see, eyes-wide open. You’re actually light – so closely identified with the Lord himself who is the source of that light.  And for sure, that’s how God sees you – in Christ.

That light dawns on the world in the Son of God made flesh and born in Bethlehem.  The light shines in the darkness, though the darkness has not understood it, John’s Gospel puts it.  But then, on those who sat in darkness, a light dawned.  In the land of darkness, the land of Zebulun and Naphtali, a light has dawned.  That’s the region of Galilee.  Jesus made his public appearance, and was hailed by John the Baptist. 

He preached and taught for three years until the time was right, until the hour of the power of darkness, until he was betrayed, arrested, mocked, beaten, tried, convicted, condemned, and crucified.  That dark day was the darkest of them all, as even the sun’s light failed and darkness reigned for a time.  God’s own Son died in bitter agony at the hands of wicked men, alone but for the helpless few onlookers and the criminals condemned beside him.  And Jesus gave up his Spirit.

They hastily buried him in a borrowed tomb and sealed it shut – leaving his cold clay in the darkness of the grave, thinking they’d seen the last of him.  It seemed the darkness had won.

But then the bright beams of Easter dawn burst forth.  Then the Jesus who died broke the bonds of death, as easily as light scatters darkness.  He brought life and immortality to light – for you and me and for all who are in him.  Now our future is bright.  Now our destiny is in glory.  And one day, when we join him in that heavenly kingdom, we will no longer need a lamp or sun, for there will be no night there, and God himself will be in our midst and be our light.

We were darkness, but now we are light in the Lord.  And we have the gospel of Jesus to enlighten us to faith and life in him.  Paul also encourages the Ephesians, and all Christians thereby, to bear the fruit of light.  That is, all that is good and right and true.  Stay away from the darkness – don’t return to it.  That’s the place where sin lurks and hides.  But rather, live in the light, be of the light.  Let the dark deeds of sin be exposed by your confession of it, and God’s absolution will scatter them all away.  Let your fear of death and grave be blasted away by the light of the Gospel which bathes even the darkest corners of fear in the love of Christ Jesus. 

And then this last little encouragement from Paul:

 “Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.”

We don’t know exactly what he’s quoting here, but it has been suggested it’s perhaps from an early baptismal hymn.  Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead!  That’s just what has happened to us in our baptism.  God rouses us from the sleepy death of sinfulness to the bright morning of faith – even brought to new life in those blessed waters.  This is the first resurrection.  And those same words will apply again, when on the last day, the trumpet call of God and the shout of the archangel accompany Christ’s own command for us to rise from our graves, and join him in life eternal.  This is the second resurrection. This is the shining of Christ on you.

Dear friends, I encourage you again, to fear not in these times of darkness.  Do not fear this disease, for even if the pestilence takes you and your loved ones, we have a hope beyond death.  Do not fear the darkness of uncertainty, for we have all the certainty we need in Jesus Christ.  Do not fear the wrath of God as punishment for your sins, for though he allows troubles to come, he also promises to see us through them and be with us every step of the way.  No matter how dark the days get, the dawn is promised.  The light will come, for it already has, in Christ our Lord.  Now be the light he has made you to be, and bear the fruit of light, in all that is good and right and true. 
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon - Midweek Lent 4 - The Lord's Prayer

Midweek Lent Vespers
"The Lord's Prayer"

And so we come to the third Chief Part of the Catechism, the Lord’s Prayer.

It’s a good time to talk about prayer.  It seems a very widespread reaction, amongst God’s people, and even in our culture at large – in times of peril and tragedy, uncertainty and crisis – that most people’s impulse is to pray.  Even our president declared last Sunday a national day of prayer, for whatever that is worth.

For Christians, especially, it seems these troubled times are a good excuse to do what we ought to be doing anyway – pray fervently.  And so we have, and so we will continue to do.

But often, people who mean well to pray, express a frustration with it – that we don’t pray as we know we should.  That we don’t pray as often, as fervently, or for the right things.  In times of uncertainty we may not know exactly what the best prayer is.  For instance, a loved one who is suffering greatly with what appears to be a terminal illness.  Christians have asked me, “Is it ok for me to pray that God would take my loved one and end their suffering?  Or should I be praying that they would be healed and stay with us on earth?”  Or how about the person who struggles with anger and hurt at some injustice done to them.  Do they pray for justice, or mercy for the wrongdoer?

We are sinners, after all, and why shouldn’t sin infect every aspect of our life, including our prayer life?  Why should we expect, corrupt as we are, to know how to pray, what to pray for, or really any of what is best for ourselves and others?

What a blessing it is that our Lord Jesus Christ himself teaches us to pray.  What better teacher for our prayers could we have?  What better, more perfect prayer could we think of than one composed by the Son of God himself? Far better than any heart-felt words or well-meaning prayer we could concoct by our own devices, these 7 petitions sum up the entirety of our faith and teach us so much about the God to whom we pray it.

It is a model prayer – showing us “how” to pray, both in its structure and priority and also by its content.  It is a prayer that seeks first the things of God, his Name, his kingdom and his will… before turning to ask for the things we personally need:  daily bread, forgiveness, and protection from evil.  And in this way is very similar in structure to the Ten Commandments – which teach us first to love God, and then on the second table, to love our neighbor.

And even the introduction to this wonderful prayer holds out a precious promise for us – when Jesus tells us to call upon God as our Father!  We should consider ourselves God’s children, and ask him for what we need – just as an earthly child asks an earthly father for his needs.  We might think of Jesus remarks, “if you then, though you are evil, know how to give good things to your children, how much more then… will your Father in heaven give you good things?”

I’m reminded of a story an old pastor once told about his son who had a toy truck with a broken wheel.  The son left the truck on his father’s garage work bench with a note, “Dad, can you fis dis?” So the Christian comes in faith to our Father in heaven, not knowing when our how, but trusting the goodness of our Father to hear and answer.  Believing that he knows best, and will do what he knows is for our good.

Luther’s hymn on the Lord’s Prayer is also an excellent instructional tool.  It both paraphrases and expounds on the Lord’s prayer.  Each stanza is built around a single petition, and echoes the teachings of the Small Catechism:

Verse one reminds us that God is “our” Father, and that makes us Christians a family, that we should pray in unity.

Verse two shows that God’s name be kept holy by teaching his Word, and includes the prayer that God keep us safe from false teaching. 

Verse three we pray that the kingdom would come by the work of the Holy Spirit.  As in the catechism, “God’s kingdom comes when he breaks and hinders every evil plan and purpose of the devil, the world, and our own sinful nature.” For these spiritual enemies are opposed to God and don’t want his name hallowed, or his kingdom to come.  And so also, we pray for the church – where God’s reign on earth through the Gospel is manifest from age to age.

Verse four asks, along with the third petition, that God’s will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.  Here we see a most important point from the Lord’s prayer that answers many a Christian’s vexation about what to pray for.  When I don’t know what God’s will is – simply pray that it would be done.

Verse 5 may be particularly meaningful for many of us in our current context – praying for daily bread.  Wherein we pray that God would give us what we need and save us from dangers and trials of “hardship, war and strife, in plague and famine spare our life”.  That Jesus who teaches us to pray for daily bread also promises to provide it, and points to the sparrows that God feeds each day, and aren’t you worth more than many sparrows?  Luther also mentions in the hymn the twin dangers of “care and greed” – that God would spare us from worry about tomorrow’s needs, and keep us from greed for more than we need, but to be content with those blessings he provides.

Verse 6 begs God for forgiveness, and for the strength to forgive others who hurt us and sin against us.  While God’s forgiveness of us sinners is not contingent on our forgiving others – as if God’s waiting around for us to forgive everyone else before he will forgive us – yet Jesus often connects our own forgiveness received with the forgiveness we show – as he does in the Lord’s prayer.  So also in parables and sermons, Jesus emphasizes the great need for Christians to forgive others – as a true expression and exercise of our faith, and the forgiveness, love and mercy God first shows to us.

Verse 7 of Luther’s hymn tracks the 6th petition in praying against temptation.  Luther is especially good when it comes to the devil, the Old Evil Foe he calls him in that other famous hymn.  Here, “the grim foe and all his horde would vex our souls on every hand”.  And yet Jesus and Luther both teach us that we cannot stand under temptation alone – but need God the Holy Spirit to lead us, strengthen us, keep us firm in faith in the day of temptation. 

Verse 8 considers the final petition, “Deliver us from evil”.  Luther calls this a summary petition – that God would deliver us from all evils of body and soul.  That he would give us all the things we have just prayed for in the above petitions.  In the hymn we sing, “The times and days are perilous”.  And it’s as true now as it was a month ago, in 1536 when they first sang this hymn, and in Jesus’ day when he first taught and gave us this prayer.  Deliver us from evil, Lord.  The days are evil.  Sin is always with us.  The devil is always prowling.  The world is heaving and churning, corrupt and corrupting.  We need saving, now, as always.

Thanks be to God for our Lord Jesus Christ, the giver and teacher of this prayer, and the one who accomplishes our deliverance from evil.  He does so, himself, by submitting to evil.  By enduring the cross and despising its shame.  He takes his place of isolation – as God the Father turns his back and forsakes his Son unto death.  He made him to be sin, and condemned that sin to die in the flesh of Jesus.  All scorn and sorrow, all grief and shame, all the devil’s seething rage and spite.  Jesus bore it all.  Suffered all.  Died for all. 

So now, when we yield our dying breath, we can do so in the peace of his deliverance from evil – know that death has no hold on us who are in Christ.  For he has defeated it.

Finally, the church adds this little word to so many of our prayers – Amen!  It’s a word of confirmation. A word of faith.  Yes, yes, it shall be so!  We can pray our prayers in confidence, especially the Lord’s Prayer, knowing that the one to whom we pray will hear and answer.  That he means us well.  That our dear Father receives our prayers for the sake of his beloved Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.  Hear us for the sake of him who has taught us thus to pray.  Amen, that is, so shall it be.  In Jesus Name. Amen!

Sermon - Lent 3 - John 4:5-42

John 4:5-42
“More than Small-Talk”

Smalltalk – commenting on the weather, inquiring about the wife and kids, “how ‘bout them Packers” and such. There have even been books written on the fine art of small-talk. But it’s something most of us do without thinking. But then, sometimes small talk gets bigger.

Most of us have also had a conversation or two, which we might call pretty “deep”. Maybe it was a late night heart-to-heart, or a long car-ride somewhere. Maybe it started with something common enough, but ended up with ultimate questions like, “where is my life going?” “what is really important here?” “what’s the meaning of it all?”

Oh the turns and twists of conversation… as John walks us through Jesus’ dialogue with the Samaritan woman. As we reflect on this important conversation, we might ask what Jesus is also saying to us, this morning.

I suppose you could say, it started out with small-talk. Jesus, the true human that he was – hungry – had sent his disciples to get food. Tired, he sat down to rest, and thirsty, he asked the woman who had come to the well for a simple drink of water. It was an everyday situation, or so it seemed.

What caught the woman off guard is not that a stranger would talk to her, but that he was a man. Men didn’t usually acknowledge women, and especially for a Jewish man to make small talk with a Samaritan woman – well, let’s just say this was a bit of an odd couple. Jews and Samaritans, Men and Women – people who didn’t usually speak at all. But Jesus was full of surprises that day.

Just as intentionally as he opens this unexpected conversation, he directs its course. First asking her for water, he gets her attention by tapping a subject deeper than the well. He offered her “living water”. What did he mean by “living water” – well, simply, quenching the thirst of the soul. He himself, the Savior, is that water – the forgiveness he brings, and the life he gives – the spirit he sends – everything, all of it, is the living water of which Jesus spoke. She didn’t understand it, how could she, but she was intrigued. After all, coming to this well everyday was hard work, and not being thirsty anymore sure sounded good to her.

Jesus intrigues us with the Gospel too. He offers us something. Maybe we don’t understand it at first so well either. But we know we are thirsty, that we have a need. We want to hear more about this “living water” too. But rather than explain it, Jesus applies it. He begins to give her the living water – that is, exactly what she needs. He changes the topic. He goes from the tame topic of water to the uncomfortable topic of sin…

“Go get your husband”. “I have no husband”. “No, you had 5 husbands – but the man you are living with isn’t your husband is he?” Jesus cuts to the chase, cuts through the veil of polite conversation, and gently but firmly and directly points the woman to her sin. He is about to give her the living water, but the first part of this is to lead her to see the need, to remind her of the real thirst – for forgiveness.

When our weekly conversation with Jesus called worship begins, we too are reminded of our sin. The liturgy points us to our own sins just as surely as Jesus exposed the woman at the well. Our sins are many and varied, thought, word, deed, sins done, and sins by leaving things undone.

Perhaps we are beset by a certain sin, a glaring weakness or problem in our life. Perhaps we are caught in a sexual sin – perhaps even the same sin as this Samaritan woman – living in sin with someone who is not our spouse. The sin of fornication.  I’m sure the woman at the well had her justifications for living with this man who was not her husband… but Jesus wasn’t having it.
Whatever our sin, it may seem there is no real way out. Perhaps we make excuses for our sin, or take comfort in the fact that society endorses it. Perhaps we console ourselves with the old argument, “Yeah, but look how much worse the other sinners are…” Maybe we just don’t think it’s such a big deal.

But Jesus would beg to differ. Jesus does not overlook sin, he comes to address it. He calls the sinner to repentance, and applies the forgiveness won by his blood.

Whatever our sin is, it is never comfortable to speak of. Though some don’t even like our very general corporate confession made in worship – not wanting to admit to even being a sinner – most of us have no problem doing so. But if anyone were to ever point to a particular sin, might our reaction be a different story? Might we get defensive? Might we shift the blame, or make excuses? Or might we, like the woman at the well, seek to change the subject?

Now, she wants to talk about worship. “I see you are a prophet!” Let’s argue religion. Now the woman too breaks one of the cardinal rules of polite conversation and brings up religion. Some have suggested she was avoiding talking about her sin. Perhaps. Others have said this is a tacit confession, that yes, Jesus, you are right about my sin. Now let’s talk about how I can be cleansed. What sacrifices do I need to make, to whom, and where – to get this all taken care of. Let’s talk religion.

Whatever the woman’s reason for turning the topic to places of worship, she had certainly opened another can of worms. For Jews and Samaritans disagreed deeply over religion. Jews worshipped God at the temple, where He had promised to dwell. Samaritans set up their own temple, their own places of worship, and thus made for themselves a new religion, really.

The Samaritan religion used only the first 5 books of the Old Testament. Is it any wonder that Jesus said, “you Samaritans worship what you do not know”? But more than just scold her for faulty religion, Jesus moves beyond the Samaritan/Jewish distinction, and announces a new era of religion where worship is not bound to geographical place. Worship in Spirit and Truth – will be coming, and HAS NOW ARRIVED in the Messiah, He, himself, Jesus Christ.

All this sounds good to the woman, and she makes a sort of confession of her faith. She looked forward to the coming Messiah, who would explain it all.

Jesus responds, “I who speak to you am He”, and by doing so, he “opens the floodgates of living waters” The woman comes to faith, and even testifies to her entire town, inviting them to come and hear this man of amazing words. But more amazing than the small-talk, even more amazing than the prophetic wisdom, was the announcement of God’s grace and mercy in the arrival of the long awaited Messiah, who had arrived on the scene with his gift of Living Water.

Jesus takes the question of true religion, right worship, and how to deal with sin –
And he again changes the subject. Now instead of where, or how, or even what – the real question is WHO? And Jesus makes it clear – He is the answer. He is the way, the only way to the Father. He is the Truth, by which we receive the Spirit and know the Father. And He is the Life – the Living, Life-giving Water that he offers is His very self – crucified for the woman at the well, and for the Samaritans, and for the Jews, and for all people, and for you and me. HE is the life that conquered death by rising to life again – and better than a fountain of youth, his resurrection guarantees eternal life for all who believe.

As we, the people of God, gather once again this day around the well of His grace in Jesus Christ, we cherish again the Living Water. We acknowledge the gifts given in the Baptismal waters, in the Holy Meal of his own Body and Blood, and in the very Word of Truth we are blessed to hear. More than mere small-talk, the words of Christ are powerful, precious, eternal, and true. They point out sin, they forgive sin, and they bring life and faith. We, who have heard these words today, confess with the ancient Samaritans of Sychar, “have heard for ourselves… that this man really is the Savior of the world!”

Sermon - Midweek Lent 2 - The Ten Commandments

Exodus 20:1-17

The Ten Commandments.

This Lent we are looking at the 6 chief parts of the Small Catechism with a special emphasis on Luther’s Catechism hymns. 

Last week, Ash Wednesday, we took up the 5^th chief part – Confession – as it fits the penitential emphasis of that day, and is a good place to begin the season.

However, today, we are back to the beginning of the Catechism, with the first chief part – the Ten Commandments.

You may have heard how Luther wrote the Small Catechism after he completed a visitation of the parishes in Electoral Saxony.  He made those visits over two years, from 1526 to 1528, and found that the education of the people was quite poor, and also the financial support of the clergy was sorely lacking.  One historian writes:

What he (Luther) and the other visitors found there shocked them. Most preachers were sound doctrinally, but others were not, nor were all provided for sufficiently. They found a laity that was lacking in strong moral conviction. But what bothered them the most was the absence of basic doctrinal knowledge, such the ability to recite the Apostles’ Creed or the Lord’s Prayer. This gave impetus to Luther’s drafting of the catechisms, modeled largely after a series of sermons delivered in May 1528 and published in 1529.

And yet, you may be surprised to learn that this hymn of Luther’s, written about the 10 Commandments, dates from 1524 – a couple of years even before he discovered how bad the catechesis was!  Which serves only to show just how important it was for the reformer that people know and are familiar with the commandments.  Contrary to some who accused Luther and his followers of teaching against the law – we have always had a high regard for the law, and particularly, the 10 Commandments as a most excellent summary of it.

The hymn specifies that Moses received these holy 10 commands “for our good”.  And this is no small statement.

Some seem to think that the law is bad.  Certainly we can see why.  It makes us feel bad.  When God says “do this” and I see, clearly that I do the opposite, my conscience kicks in and tells me I don’t measure up.  When the law says “the soul that sins shall perish” and I observe that I, in fact, do sin, then I must conclude that I, too, will perish (if that were the only word we hear from God). 

The law also curbs sin – it keeps us from going too far off the reservation, it keeps sin in check, it keeps it at least somewhat under control.  And so I know, that even though I want to, there are things I can’t do.  I am limited.  If not for the sake of love, then out of fear of punishment.  And that, too, can make someone think the law is bad – because it’s a kill-joy, a downer, it keeps us from doing whatever we want.

But the law is, indeed good.  The commands are good.  It’s the word of God, after all.  It’s only bad in the sense that it condemns us because we break it.  But that’s not the fault of the law – it’s our own sin that does that.  The law is good.  And it would hold no terror for us, if only we could keep it.

And even though we don’t keep it – it is still good in that it offers a right and true diagnosis of our condition.  It shows our sin.  Like the doctor who sits you down to tell you the bad news – but it’s good that he tells you – so that you can proceed to the treatment!  Similarly, the 10 commandments are an essential spiritual diagnostic, to prepare the sinner to receive the medicine, that is, the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  For what good news is it, to know that Christ died for your sins, if you don’t know your sins, or that you are a sinner?  This is the chief function of the law.

So while it stings to hear it, we must give thanks to God for the accusations of the law, the pointing finger, the spotlight it shines on our own faults and failings.  For only in the light of day can we both see and deal with the problem.  Only when sin is confessed does absolution come, and the Spirit is renewed in Christ.  If we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

And look at this, even in a hymn about the law, rehearsing each and every one of the Ten Commandments, we still see an expression of Gospel with the refrain, “have mercy, Lord!”  Yes, we have a God of mercy, a God of lovingkindness, a God of grace – who does not look at our sins or count them against us – all for the sake of Christ.  Indeed the hymn concludes, “Forgive us, Lord!  To Christ we flee, Who pleads for us endlessly, have mercy, Lord!”

We Christians know that God does, indeed, have mercy on us poor sinners.  Of course we know That’s what Jesus Christ is all about.  We know that Jesus died on the cross to procure forgiveness for all our breaking of the commandments.  Even the youngest little Christians can confess it:  Jesus died for me.

But let’s not forget that just as much as Jesus died for us, he also lived for us.  “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” (Galatians 4:4-5)

Jesus Christ, as true man, can stand as our substitute under the law.  He can fulfill the law, perfectly, for us, and as true God make that righteousness count for us all.  It’s like the smartest kid in the class who takes the test, gets 100%, and then somehow gives you his grade!  Jesus fulfills the law perfectly, he fulfills all righteousness for us, he covers us in his own righteousness.  So when God looks at us, he doesn’t see all the law-breaking we do – but he sees all the law-keeping Christ has done. 

And yet, while the law always accuses us, it does not only accuse us.  While it always shows us our sin and failure, it also shows us the right way forward.  It is a curb, a mirror and a guide.  And it is this third use or function, as a guide, that is particularly for Christians.  I know my sin, but I also know the forgiveness of Christ.  Now, how do I live?  What shall I do?  What is the will of God in this or that aspect of life?  These questions the law also answers.  Yes, “You have this Law to see therein that you have not been free from sin” (that’s the accusation, the mirror function).  “But also that you clearly see, how pure toward God life should be” Yes, the law also shows us the way the life of a believer should be.

And so we love God, and love our neighbor – for the sake of Christ!  We strive to keep the law, even knowing we won’t do it perfectly, but in the confidence of Christ’s forgiveness.  The motivation is all different for the Christian.  We’re not trying to keep the commandments because we HAVE to, but we joyfully respond to God’s love by showing that love in our lives.  We’ve been made anew by the mercy of God in Jesus Christ.  We have died to sin in our baptism.  We have been adopted as sons and daughters of the King.  Why would we want to live any other way, than according to his will?

Luther even wrote, in the section of the Catechism about daily prayer, that after our morning prayers we should, “go joyfully to our work, singing a hymn, like that of the Ten Commandments, or whatever your devotion may suggest”. Maybe he even had this hymn in mind.

And so, we love the law of God.  We consider it as good and right and true.  It’s worth knowing and keeping in our hearts and minds.  It’s something to live by.  And we teach it to our children.  So that they too can learn by heart the holy commands of God.  The law will always accuse us, and show us our failure.  But we have a God who always shows mercy in Christ, and has kept the law for us.  So live in his mercy, and delight in his Holy Ten Commands. In Jesus’ Name.  Amen.

Sermon - Lent 1 - Matthew 4:1-11

“Garden and Wilderness”
Matthew 4:1-11 (Genesis 3:1-21)

Today is the first Sunday in the church season of Lent. It is a penitential time, in which we focus seriously on our Lord as suffering servant, paschal sacrifice, a man of sorrows. It is a time of deep and somber meditation, in which we also reflect on our sinfulness, though not forgetting his mercies in Christ.

This 40 day period of Lent traditionally begins with the Gospel reading about Jesus' 40 day period of temptation in the wilderness. And so we have Matthew's account of it today. And our lectionary also, very purposefully, chooses the Genesis account of man's fall into sin as the Old Testament passage for the day. What a wonderful pairing, as we reflect today on the first Adam and the Second Adam, and on the garden and the wilderness.

So much of what Jesus does is loaded with meaning. We can never underestimate the significance of his actions for us. Immediately after his baptism, the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness for a time of fasting and temptation. This is no coffee break. The rugged terrain was not hospitable for human existence. But the spiritual terrain was about to get even rockier.

Jesus is tempted. Satan himself takes the challenge, sending no mere underling demon to do it.  This is an epic contest, a battle for the ages.  The adversary had what he saw as a golden opportunity here to finally do what he’s always wanted – to usurp the king.  This confrontation between the Son of God and the Old Evil Foe was not the first time or the last time Satan would do battle and lose, but he saw a shot at it here.  For now the Son of God is humbled.  He’s in human form. He’s subject to temptation.  And the devil knows how to do temptation.

He finds Jesus near the end of his fast, presumably at his hungriest and weakest.  He tempts him first with physical food. And the bells should be going off as we read this.

For Satan once tempted another human with food – famously – in the Garden of Eden. The forbidden fruit. From the tree of knowledge of good and evil. There Satan succeeded in his efforts, and woman and man fell into the misery of his company. Ever since, the tempter had been harassing the children of Adam – drawing and enticing them – us -- to all kinds of evil.

The Devil’s temptation is very real. Don't think that he doesn't bother with you. If the evil one has the audacity to challenge the Lord Jesus himself, don't think somehow you are off limits.

And he will often do so when you, too, are at your weakest.  When you are suffering.  When you are alone.  When you are far from the word and surrounded by worldliness.  The devil chooses his victims carefully and picks his battles with great shrewdness.  Like a lion looking for the wounded gazelle to devour.  He wields his weapons of temptation with expert prowess. And he’s been at it for a very long time.  So don’t think you can stand up to him on your own.  Deep guile and great might are his dread arms in fight.  He is crafty and powerful.  A dangerous foe.

True, we don't know really when it's the devil providing the temptation, for it may also be the sinful world or our own sinful self to blame. But nonetheless, our adversary delights in seeing us sin, in trying to fill our bellies and souls with anything that is not good or good for us or for our faith.
But Jesus can, and does withstand the attack. When the devil tempted hungry Jesus with bread - “Man cannot live by bread alone”, Jesus counters, but man does live by the Word of God. Jesus doesn’t rest on his own divine power or authority, though he could have.  He rather reverts to reliance on the Word.  It’s all that is needed, after all.  And it also shows us the way to counter temptation.
Jesus was victorious over the Tempter. We can only find victory over temptation through him. And we can only find forgiveness for our failures in him, and we can only live in and by his word.

Yes, in his word. The forgiving word of absolution. The promising words of the Lord's Supper. The claiming words of his own name placed on us at baptism. This word is the true food of wisdom, for he himself, is the very bread of life. We do not live on bread alone, that is earthly bread, earthly food.  It may keep the body going for a while but it does nothing to enliven the soul.  But the bread that Jesus provides – the bread of himself – gives life.

There, in the Garden of Eden, the first man and the first woman broke the first command at the first temptation. There, death, spiritual and physical, first came into the world. What a dark day it was. Perhaps the worst day ever. The beginning of all your bad days was there.

But then, there was also hope. For in the midst of the curse, even before he curses man and woman, God makes a promise, that one day the woman's offspring, her descendant, her seed – would crush the head of the serpent.

Now it comes true.  Let the battle begin.  Here, in the wilderness, the gloves are off, and Satan's first confrontation with the Savior ends decisively. Not once, but three times, the tempter is foiled. Three times he is defeated by the word of God, spoken by the Living word. And no small victory this was – the first time a human had ever faced the devil and won. In the reversal of Adam's fall, the Second Adam, Jesus Christ, comes to restore what was lost in Eden, to bring life to a land of death, hope to despair, and victory to those lost in sin. Now it was the tempter whose day was ruined.

That victory in the wilderness foretold, of course, of an even greater victory on another dark day. When the serpent's head was truly crushed under the weight of the cross. When Jesus death on the tree erased the sin that came by the tree of knowledge. When the fruits of the forbidden tree were put away for all, forever.

And then, in the garden where they laid him in a borrowed tomb, Jesus would rise to life again – thus guaranteeing life to all his people. So death, that interloper which came with sin into the Garden of Eden is made no more in the garden of the resurrection.

Adam and Eve were banned from paradise, evicted from the garden for their sin. They were made to go outside the domesticated fruit groves of Eden, pleasing to the eye and good to eat – cast out into the wild of thorns and thistles. And an angel with a flaming sword barred the way back.

But Jesus goes willingly to the wilderness. Away from food and comfort and he goes alone. He goes there to bring us back from the wilderness of our sins. To rescue Adam and Eve and all their children, restoring us to paradise. No fire-brandishing angel bars the gate for us any longer. Instead they sing at his joyous birth, announce his blessed resurrection, and they will accompany his return in glory.

As our forty day Lenten sojourn begins, the mood is thoughtful, serious, even perhaps tense. We go with him into the wilderness. We come face to face with sin and temptation, and recognize our powerlessness before the old evil foe. But Jesus has won the victory. He defeats the devil in the Judean wilderness, and in the garden of resurrection. He restores paradise and all that was lost in sin. He brings life again. Welcome back from the wilderness. Welcome to the garden, in Jesus Christ, Amen.

Sermon - Ash Wednesday - Psalm 130

This Lenten season, like every year, we are setting forth a theme for our midweek evening services.  We’ve called this series, “Luther’s Catechism Hymns”.  The idea is this.  We are all or should be familiar with Luther’s Small Catechism and its Six Chief Parts.  That little summary of the Bible forms the foundation of most of our formal instruction, for Confirmation in the Lutheran Church.  Many preachers over the years have even used the 6 Chief Parts as a structure for a Lenten series:  The 10 Commandments, the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, Holy Baptism, Confession and Absolution, and the Lord’s Supper.  We’re not re-inventing the wheel.

But we are perhaps adding another layer, or looking at the Small Catechism through a different lens.  Dr. Luther not only gave us the clarity and simplicity of the Small Catechism to teach us and our children the faith, but he also wrote many hymns for much the same purpose.  And it’s been pointed out, and maybe shouldn’t surprise us, that some of these hymns match up quite well with the Six Chief Parts.  That may have even been intentional in some cases.

And so, our approach will be, to examine these treasures of the church, these precious doctrines of Scripture -  through the lens of the Small Catechism, and that, through the lens of Luther’s catechism hymns.  And in so doing, to draw deeper and richer meaning from the Word of God that calls us to repentance and faith in Jesus Christ.

Since it is Ash Wednesday, however, we’re going to change up the order a bit.  As we begin our penitential season, and even wear the ashes of repentance on our brows, our thoughts would run the way of that Chief Part of the Catechism – “Confession and Absolution”.  If you turn to page 326 in your hymnal, you can read for yourself how the Catechism teaches us to confess and be forgiven:

“What is confession?”

Confession has two parts.  First that we confess our sins, and second, that we receive absolution, that is, forgiveness, from the pastor as from God Himself, not doubting, but firmly believing that by it our sins are forgiven before God in heaven.

It’s so simple, really.  Luther would say, “When I urge you to go to confession, I am simply urging you to be a Christian”.  The heart of our faith is this very thing – repentance and faith, confession and forgiveness, all for the sake of Christ.

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, a season of penitence to prepare us for Holy Week and Easter, the highest celebration of the Church.  So for the Christian, preparation begins with sorrow for sin, contrition, a recognition of the depths of our problem.  Celebration comes only after sorrow – the joy of Easter only after the suffering of Calvary.

We hear these words every Ash Wednesday, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return”.  It’s a stark reminder of death.  For as our father Adam was formed from the dust, so will we all return to the earth when the grave reclaims our bodies.  But that only happens because of sin, which brings the wages of death.  The grave is a deep pit, indeed, while it may be just 6 feet down – it is inescapable apart from Christ.

It’s not just in the New Testament that God’s people recognized the depth of the problem, either.  Already David knew what death meant – he saw it all around him.  He even had a hand in the death of many, some justly, some not so.  And he knew that sin and death went together – it’s all over his writing.

Take Psalm 130, on which Luther based his hymn, “From Depths of Woe I Cry to Thee”.  There David writes:

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!
²     O Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
    to the voice of my pleas for mercy!

³ If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,
    O Lord, who could stand?
⁴ But with you there is forgiveness,
    that you may be feared.

⁵ I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
    and in his word I hope;
⁶ my soul waits for the Lord
    more than watchmen for the morning,
    more than watchmen for the morning.

⁷ O Israel, hope in the Lord!
    For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
    and with him is plentiful redemption.
⁸ And he will redeem Israel
    from all his iniquities.

Luther summarizes and paraphrases this Psalm in this hymn – written in a style easy for his people to sing.  He wrote, “From Depths of Woe” in 1523 while he was also engaged in re-working the Latin Mass into German.  He set a number of liturgical pieces to hymnody – and this one works well as a confession of sins.

Consider with the Psalmist, how bad off we’d be if God marked our sins – if he strictly and thoroughly held every little sin against us – as the law requires.  Consider how each of us brings a burden of sin so heavy, a record of sin so extensive, that we can’t even know how deep and sore it goes.  Only God can.  But the thought of his justice holding us to account is not pleasant, in fact, it’s terrifying.  No one could stand. 

But the psalmist quickly turns to God’s forgiveness.  “But with you there is forgiveness, therefore you are feared!”  Who would want to believe in a God who was extreme to mark our sins?  But a God who brings forgiveness?  That’s a God who inspires fear, love AND trust.  That’s the God that we know through Jesus.  Luther puts it this way in the hymn:

“Though great our sins, yet greater still Is God's abundant favor”

As this hymn expresses well humanity’s deepest sorrow, it has often been sung in times of mourning.  For example, it was sung in the castle church of Wittenberg, on May 9^th, 1525, at the funeral of Duke Frederick the Wise, Luther’s patron and protector.  Later, it would be sung at Luther’s own funeral in 1546.

But the hymn is not all about sorrow, any more than Confession itself for the Christian is only about sorrow.  Confession and absolution are two sides of the coin, just like the teachings of the law and the proclamation of the gospel.  Where sin is confessed, it is forgiven in Christ.  Where ashes mark you with the reminder of death, they are placed in a cross which reminds us that death lies defeated.  When you give voice to your sinfulness, God’s servants speak words of forgiveness, restoration and peace.  Confession and Absolution are watchwords for the Christian – a pattern for our lives.

The Psalmist speaks of his soul waiting for the Lord more than watchman for the morning.  Luther talks about our heart tarrying through the night, and awakening at dawn.  The picture is this.  We’re waiting for our shift to be over, our vigil of faith upon earth.  We wait, patiently, expectantly, for the salvation of God to appear.  Our hope is in the Lord.  Our eyes are on the horizon, looking for his steadfast love and plentiful redemption.  And our eyes and our hope and our patient waiting will not be disappointed, for the Lord comes to redeem us from our iniquities.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

This Lenten season, let us once again repent.  Turn your hearts from sin, and toward faith in Christ.  Say of yourself what God has said of you – that you are conceived and born in sin, that you sin daily and sin much, but hear what God also says through Christ – that your sins are removed, washed away clean even as these ashes soon will be. 

And remember this - that even death itself is a temporary arrangement.  For though you are dust and to dust you shall return, that’s not the end of the story.  For your sins are great, greater still is God’s abundant favor.  Though you die, yet shall you live in Jesus Christ our Lord.  A blessed Ash Wednesday, in Jesus’ Name.  Amen.

Sermon - Transfiguration - Matthew 17:1-9

The Transfiguration of Our Lord
“Seeing the Glory.  Listening to the Son.”
Matthew 17:1-9

This Sunday, Transfiguration Sunday, is kind of the last hurrah of the Epiphany season.  What started out with a bright star leading the wise men to the baby Jesus not ends on a mountaintop with the brightness of God’s glory shining in Christ.  What began at the Jordan river, when Jesus was baptized and the voice from heaven declared “This is my Son”, now concludes with the same voice, the same words, and another little addition, “Listen to him”.  What started out with humble beginnings – a baby laid in a manger – now gives a glimpse of the true glory behind it all, a peek through the veil of humility, a brief peek at the glory of the Son of God.  Soon liturgical lights will dim into Lent.  The Alleluias will go on vacation.  We leave the mount and go to the plain, even the valley of the shadow of death.

We go toward the garden, the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus also prays.  We go to dark Gethsemane, for another retreat with Peter, James and John.  There, they will also be sleepy.  There, they will also not understand.  Jesus will be attended not by Moses and Elijah, but by the angels.  There, Jesus will also speak of his cross – not as an exodus, but as a cup that cannot pass from him.  There, in the garden, the brightness of glory is past, and the hour of the power of darkness will come.
But for now, it is good to be here.  The Transfiguration was a necessary event for the disciples to witness.  For them to both to see and also to hear.  For them to experience.  It must have made quite an impression.  For we are creatures of our senses.  Everything we know of the world passes through our eyes or ears, or is sensed by touch, smell or taste.  But mostly eyes and ears.  Here the disciples have a feast for both of these senses.

They see Jesus more clearly for who he is.  They see his glory shining through.  Surely not his full glory, for who could withstand such a sight?  But he gives them a view of himself that they hadn’t seen, and perhaps would never see again this side of death itself.  His face shone like the sun.  His garments, whiter than anyone could bleach.  White as light. 

Jesus didn’t really change.  He was still the same Jesus.  Only his appearance changed.  His figure got “trans-ed”.  They got a better view of the reality that was always there.  The Jesus they usually saw was the Jesus of the incarnation and humiliation, the savior that came lowly and meekly.  The one who had no particular beauty that we should regard him.  He wasn’t notably tall like Saul or strong like Samson.  He had no riches like a Herod.  He didn’t even have a place to lay his head.

And seeing is believing, isn’t it?  Well, sometimes.  Though our eyes may deceive us.  Though our eyes may tell us what is real and we still choose not to believe it.  Eye-witness testimony is considered the most reliable, but even that can be distorted, mis-remembered, or fail.  Sinners tend to either rely too much on our senses, or not enough.  We trust in our own devices and capacities to a fault, or we deny the reality that stares us in the face. 

So God doesn’t leave Peter James and John with only the vision bright.  He doesn’t just show them the glory of Christ without interpretation.  Nor does Christ bare his true glory for all to see, but rather cloaks himself in a veil of humility and shows his true nature in other ways – in word and action.
And since this vision of the transfiguration, by itself, is not enough - this is also why the voice of the Father thunders, and also adds these little words to his endorsement:  Listen to him.

Listening to Jesus is even more important than seeing him.  It’s far better to listen to Jesus than to see him in all his glory, or all his humility.  Martha, Martha, learned that listening to Jesus was far better than all her busy working and doing.  Listening to Jesus is what his sheep do – for they know his voice.

So what does he say?  Well, of course he preaches that the kingdom is at hand.  He calls us to repentance and faith.  He calls us to follow him.  He calls for obedience to the law – as we’ve heard in the last few weeks from the Sermon on the Mount.  He speaks many things, many words, in sermons and parables and sayings.  The voice of the Father says, “Listen to him”, and we do well to pay attention to all of it.

But what those disciples had a hard time hearing, most of all, and what sometimes, we, too, stumble at – is the gospel itself.  The very heart of Jesus’ teaching.  The very focus of his mission.  That the Son of Man would be betrayed, arrested, tried and convicted… that he would be made to suffer, crucified, and that he would be buried, and on the third day rise again.  He told them – he spoke about it plainly.  He repeated, again and again, but the balked, they were afraid to ask, or it simply went in one ear and out the other.  Peter tried to rebuke him, just 6 days before (that’s what is mentioned at the beginning of this reading), but Jesus rebuked him, “get behind me Satan”.  Harsh words, but Jesus will not be turned away from his cross.  He will not be distracted or diverted by any other mission, for any other way of salvation is a suggestion of Satan.  Don’t listen to the devil’s designs.  Listen to Jesus.

And then there’s Moses and Elijah.  Two Old Testament figures who knew a thing or two about not being listened to.  Moses the great law-giver, who led a stubborn and stiff-necked people.  Elijah the prophet spoke for God, preaching against wicked kings and queens and false prophets of Baal, but was ignored and opposed to the point where he thought he was the only one left.  And yet for those with ears to hear, both of these men, and the whole Old Testament with them, preach a word of witness even today – pointing us to Jesus.  They would agree with the voice of the Father.  Listen to Jesus.

And listen in on what they were talking about with Jesus – they weren’t telling him stories of their good old days.  They weren’t comparing notes with how hard it is to preach.  They weren’t even asking how in the world they managed to appear on this mountaintop hundreds of years after they had lived.  Luke’s account tells us the topic of their conversation:  “  They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:31) They were talking about the cross.  They, like Jesus, knew what the point of all of this really was.

And one more little phrase to listen to – when they lifted up their eyes, they saw “Jesus only”.  When the transfiguration conversation was over, the cloud disappeared, and Moses and Elijah went their way, they were left with Jesus only.  The saw no one but Jesus only. 

We, too, should see Jesus only and hear Jesus only.  Sure there’s Moses and Elijah, but even they point us to Jesus only.  There is no other name under heaven by which we must be saved, but Jesus only.  There is no one who can give us perfect righteousness but Jesus only.  There is no one whose blood can cover our sins, but Jesus only.  And therefore no one worth trusting in, following, and listening to – but Jesus only.

The transfiguration of Jesus is a blessed event in which we see, through the eyes of these three apostles, a glimpse behind the veil.  We see, with them, a hint of the glory of the eternal Son of God that has hidden himself in this human flesh.  We see Jesus, a little bit clearer, for who he is.  But we see him not with our eyes, but with our ears.  We listen to the gospel accounts.  We give close ear to his teaching.  We read and hear and learn and mark and inwardly digest his word. 

As Epiphany ends, and as Lent begins, we too must come down the mountain.  The shine will wear off quickly, and the ashes of repentance appear again.  We go with Jesus, these 40 days, as he sets his face toward Jerusalem.  There’s plenty to hear, as we listen to him. Some of it hard, unpleasant, quite challenging.

But in it all Jesus prepares us for our own departure.  He is calling and forgiving us, comforting and strengthening us for that day when we, too, will stand with him in glory.  That day, beyond our own grave, when we receive a resurrection like his.  That day, when God’s declaration of Christ is also applied to us for eternity, “this is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased”.  And so the transfiguration also gives you a glimpse of your own future, in Christ.

Dear Christians, as always, look to Jesus.  Listen to Jesus.  And find the glory of salvation in Jesus, and in Jesus only. 

Sermon - 6th Sunday after Epiphany - Matthew 5:21-37

Matthew 5:21–37
“You Have Heard It Said”

I love neo-logisms.  Those little words and expressions that pop up here and there in modern life – many times to describe something that just needs a word of its own.  One of my favorites is “selective listening”.  A condition that seems most common among teenagers and husbands, but is really common to all sinners.  We all hear what we want to hear, and don’t hear what we don’t, even when it comes to God’s word.  And even if you hear it, does it go in one ear and out the other?  Do you practice selective listening?  Or maybe it’s selective obeying.

Jesus touches on four topics today – and with each he begins with the same phrase “You have heard it said” and then contrasts the statement with “But I say to you…”  He’s not just offering his opinion on these matters – something that we can take or leave.  He speaks with all the authority of the Son of God himself, the Word that has become flesh, the very living Word of God.  And so we must not practice selective hearing when it comes to Jesus.  We must note what we have heard, and also especially what he then says to us.

St. Paul used another word picture to speak about people who only want to hear what they want to hear – he said they have itching ears.  And they accumulate preachers to themselves who will scratch that itch – say what they want, what makes them feel good about themselves, or at least not make them feel bad.  Save us all from this kind of preaching, dear Jesus!

So what does Jesus preach about in this last of our readings from the Sermon on the mount?  As the Epiphany season winds down, we’ve already heard many answers to the question, “who is Jesus?”  Today, Jesus answers a closely related question, “so then who am I to be, as one of his people?”  There’s a lot of talk about Christian living, the sort of so-what-now of the faith.  And we will do our best this morning to listen to it.

But we will also give ear to the words of Christ which answer his words of law – and consider how the same Christ who speaks the law so that we hear it well, also speaks words of comfort and peace in his Gospel.  It’s not a word that comes screaming through in this particular section of the Gospels, and so we may have to make some connections, draw in some other words.  But remember the words of any scripture passage are always to be taken in context  - and that context is always the whole counsel of God.  We never ignore the chief teachings of Jesus, even as we give ear to other things he taught.

So enough introductory stuff.  Let’s get to the heart of it.  Today in our reading, Jesus teaches us, his people, about anger, lust, divorce, and frivolous oaths.  Each of these is forbidden in the Old Testament.  Pointing them out as such is nothing newsworthy.  Indeed, “You have heard it said”.  What’s astounding is that Jesus raises the bar on these laws, makes them even harder to attain or fulfill.  And if we recall what he said last week, that’s a bit of a problem, because anyone who breaks the least of these commandments will not enter the kingdom of heaven!

Take first of all anger.  Jesus quotes the fifth commandment, prohibiting murder, and applies it also to anger!  Anger is murder of the heart.  Insulting another – murder of the mouth – calling a brother a fool – even just being angry – makes one liable to judgment, and even the hell of fire!  But anger is a breeding ground of sin, and it breaks relationships between God’s beloved children.  Who are you to be angry at someone for whom Christ shed his precious blood?  Rather, consider God’s own anger at your sin – and rejoice that his wrath is placated by that same blood of Christ.  If God’s anger is turned away from you by Jesus, then the Christian can pray forgiveness for our own anger and strength to put such anger away.

Or secondly, lust – Jesus begins with what they’ve already heard – you’ve heard it said – do not commit adultery.  But he raises the bar – he sharpens the point of the law – so that this sin extends to the eye and the heart.  Like every other sin of thought, word, and deed, we are accountable to God.  And the cure is extreme amputation – if your eye or hand causes you to sin – cut it out or off!  Better to go into life without them, than with them into hell.  Of course the problem is far worse, since all of our members, and even our heart itself contribute to our sin.  So how about cutting everything out and off?  Does that mean the only cure for us sinners is really death itself?  Yes – death, and life.  Being buried with Christ in baptism, so also to be raised with him.  Dying to sin and rising to new life in Jesus.  Living each day by repentance and faith, under the cross of Christ.

And let’s not pass over so quickly the threat of hell!  An eternity of punishment that is the just sentence on all who rebel against Holy God.  But neither let us forget this is Jesus talking – he who conquered hell.  He suffered its pangs on the cross, and trampled its powers under foot, descending there to proclaim victory – for himself, and all who are in him. 

His third topic is divorce – here, to, Jesus hammers the law.  Even though, already in his day, the standards of divorce had been loosened, Jesus points us back to the law.  He equates it with adultery.  Breaking a marriage is breaking a marriage.  An official document can’t paper over the 6th commandment.  If we live and act like divorce isn’t sinful, and if it’s just something that happens like one day it rains and one day it’s sunny – if we relax the law for ourselves or others – we put ourselves at odds with Jesus. 

But the Gospel of Jesus is the opposite of adultery – it’s about faithfulness.  He is faithful to you.  He is faithful to his promises.  He keeps them – even until death, and even beyond.  One day we’ll see the fruition of all his promises at the marriage feast of the lamb in his kingdom, which has no end.  There, and then – all that is broken and adulterated by sin will be forever restored. 

And finally oath-taking.  Maybe not a sin we consider much in our modern context.  It seems in days when oaths were commonly offered, there also many swore falsely.  But Jesus says to avoid all that fuss anyway – and just let your yes be yes and your no be no.  You ought not swear by heaven or earth or Jerusalem, or on your own head.  None of these are yours to swear by anyway.  Don’t make grand promises on things you can’t control.  Rather, simple honesty, straightforward words of yes and no are the hallmark of the Christian.

Let God take care of the oaths.  Let him make the everlasting covenant.  The promises that cannot be broken.  The words that can never be revoked.  God swore by himself to Abraham – that he would keep his covenant.  He would bless all nations through Abraham and his offspring.  He, God, would make children of Abraham where there were none – he’d make them out of stones if he had to – for his word cannot fail, his promise cannot be broken, his guarantee of Messiah must come true.
And of course it did.  The Jesus who was born to fulfill prophecy, who was baptized to fulfill all righteousness, who preached and healed and cast out demons, who came not to abolish but to fulfill the law and the prophets – is the Jesus who died on a cross.

You have heard his Gospel, too.  You have heard it said, from faithful pastors and teachers and parents and grandparents.  You have heard it said, when you were baptized into the name of the Father and Son and Holy Spirit.  You have heard it said, when your sins were forgiven by a servant of the Word.  You have heard it said, when Jesus’ own words are spoken over bread and wine that is his body and blood – you have heard it – that this is for the forgiveness of your sins.

So no selective hearing for the Christian, but hear everything God speaks to you.  You have heard the law – you’ve heard it from Moses, more strongly from Jesus, and even have it written on your heart.  That law speaks only condemnation.  It speaks justly. It condemns us all.

But thanks be to God for that other word.  You have heard the gospel – the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ.  You have heard how he fulfilled the law for you.  And you have heard that he shed his blood and died for you.  You have heard his many comforting promises.  Hear that same Gospel again today.  Receive the same grace, again, today.  And even as you come to his table for the feast – hear those words anew and for you – given and shed for you, for the forgiveness of your sins.

Sermon - 5th Sunday after Epiphany - Matthew 5:13-20

There’s really two main thoughts in today’s Gospel reading.  In the first section, Jesus encourages Christians to be who they are – the salt and light of the world. 

In the second, he shows his relation to the Law and the Prophets – that he came not to abolish but fulfill them.

This is all part of his famous Sermon on the Mount.  He speaks here, first of all, to his followers, those who give ear to his teaching, and by extension, to us Christians.

Let’s take the first section first – salt and light.  Two earthly things with which everyone is familiar.  Two very different parts of creation – but both with something in common – they have a purpose, a function.  They do something. 

Salt, sprinkled through the food, both preserves and gives flavor.  And light, well, it lets you see.  It shows things.  Jesus says Christians are both salt and light.  But notice first how he speaks about it – he doesn’t say, “Be salt and light”  but “you are”.  That is, you already are these things, you are this way.  Salt can’t help but to be salty, and light can’t help but to shine.  So already in the grammar of Jesus there is a promise. 

Christians will do good works.  They are as natural for the new Adam within us as breathing.  Good works are like the breath of faith – exhaling in the direction of our neighbor.  Or another way of putting it is God does good works through us, or uses us to do the good works he has prepared for us to do.  His light shines through us.  In any case, however, we never crow about our good works or boast in them.  As Jesus says, they are done to give glory to your Father who is in heaven. 

But the Christian is not only New Creation.  He is also Old Adam.  He is a saint, but he is also a sinner.  He isn’t always as salty or shiny as he wants to be.  And so we also need the law.  If all we ever did was believe and trust, we’d not need the law’s direction, curbing and guidance.  But because we are also still plagued by this sinful flesh, this body of death, we also need the threats and condemnations of the law.

So, Jesus also says, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets.  I have come to fulfill them”.  Jesus seems to mean here both the Holy Scriptures, and also the law – as in that category of teaching – like law and gospel.

There is a tendency in some Christian circles to abolish the law.  Whether purposely or unknowingly, some Christians would disregard or dismiss the Old Testament.  “We are a New Testament Church” some would say.  But this seems based on a false idea that the Old Testament is irrelevant to Christians. 

There is also a tendency in some circles to disregard or dismiss the law – as in the commands, the statues, the rules that God has set forth.  The 10 commandments, which have been degraded into suggestions, if that.  The old and antiquated and not so important to know and to live by.  In a way, any time we sin we turn our back on the law, we “abolish the law”, or at least we act as if it doesn’t apply to us. 

But rather than relaxing the law, Jesus raises the bar.  Rather than diminish its demands, he amplifies the law.  He emphasizes it all the more.  He says not an iota or a dot – the smallest of markings – will pass from it until all is accomplished.  If you break even the least of these commandments you will be least in his kingdom.  And he draws attention the most righteous men around, at least in earthly terms or in most people’s minds, and he says even their righteousness isn’t enough.  You need to follow the law, more closely, more righteous-ly.  Yes, even down to the last little mark of it.

Why so extreme, Jesus?  Would some call him a legalist?  Who can live up to such a standard?  It’s unreasonable.  How can Jesus make these demands that we can never live up to?  Shouldn’t we relax the law a little bit and make it more attainable?  How about instead of following the commandments perfectly, I just follow them for the most part?  Let’s make the law like horseshoes and hand grenades, where close enough is good enough.  Wouldn’t that be better, Jesus?

But no.  There is no slacking on the law, with Jesus, or his Father.  There is no loosening of standards or winking at sins, grading on a spiritual curve.  He says be holy as I am holy.  Unless your righteousness exceeds the Pharisees you will never – never – enter the kingdom of heaven!

That never would be for you and for me and for all people – if this was his only word on the matter.  If Jesus’ teaching on the law was all he taught, he would be a terrible savior, a peddler of despair, a prophet of doom and gloom.  But Jesus speaks another word. 

He says, “I have come to fulfill the law”.  He has come to fulfill the Old Testament.  And he has come to fulfill the commandments.  And this is very good news indeed.
He has come to fulfill all the Old Testament promises and pictures, for these are the scriptures that testify of him. 

He’s the seed of the woman that crushes the serpent – that’s Jesus. 

He’s the bronze serpent raised up by Moses that we might look to him and live. 

The Son of David that would reign over his house forever – that’s Jesus. 

The Suffering Servant in Isaiah – Jesus.

He is the one forsaken by God (Psalm 22), encircled by dogs, hands and feet pierced, crying out in thirst.   

The Jonah that comes back after three days in the belly of death – Jesus. 

The one born of a virgin, born in Bethlehem, the Savior of the Nations, the Glory of Israel – Jesus. 

He is the Joshua that conquers our enemies. 

He is the Priest in the order of Melchizedek.

He is Yahweh of the burning bush. 

The Lamb of the Passover who saves by his blood. 

He is the Lord of Hosts and Ancient of Days.

He’s the faithful husband that Hosea patterns himself after.

He is the very Word of Creation now made flesh. 

He fulfills the Law and the Prophets by his incarnation, as true God and true man, by his words and his works.  He does it all, every detail, and does it well – even perfectly.

He also fulfills the Law and Prophets in the sense of perfect righteousness.  He fulfills the commandments – and he does it for us.  He loves God perfectly, with all his heart, soul, strength and mind.  He loves his fellow man with a love greater than all – a love that would even lay down his life for friends and enemies alike.  He had no other gods.  He honored God’s name.  He remembered the Sabbath and kept it holy.  He honored father and mother.  He never murdered, committed adultery, stole or lied.  He was content with whatever God gave him, including even his cup of suffering.  Jesus never broke the law, but always fulfilled the law with perfect love for God and man.

But he did this not as an example for us – or at least not primarily so.  If that’s all he was but a super-model of morality, that would only make it worse for us.  We’d look even worse in comparison.  But he fulfills the law for us.  He is perfectly righteous for us.  Yes, he died for us – but he also lived for us – to earn for us the credit of all his good works.

So while your righteousness doesn’t exceed the Pharisees, or qualify you for the kingdom – Jesus’ righteousness does.  And the good news is that he gives you his righteousness.  He takes your sin to the cross, and he gives his perfect, spotless record of righteousness to you.  And with the righteousness of Christ – the kingdom of heaven is yours.

So be the salt that you are and the light in the world.  Let the light of your faith shine in the good works God sets before, to give him glory and in love for your neighbor.  Rest secure in the righteousness of Christ, which far exceeds any other righteousness, and is yours by grace through faith in him.  In Jesus’ Name, Amen.