Sermon - All Saints' (Observed) - 1 John 3:1-3

 

The readings for All Saints day remind us, in various ways, of our identity as the people of God.  Even though we are all sinners, yet we are, indeed, all saints.  Blessed by God, as Jesus puts it, so poetically, in the Beatitudes.  We are those who have washed our robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb, as John saw the picture of the church in his vision.  But that same apostle John also wrote the words of our Epistle reading today- which reminds us that we are children of God.  Let’s focus on this theme this morning.

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are.

John begins with the reason we can be called children of God – and that is the love of the Father, given to us.  Some translations render it this way, “See what kind of love the Father has lavished upon us.”  See.  Take note.  Mark it well.  It is great, exceeding, over-the-top love from God the Father himself that makes us his children.

God’s love is sometimes called “grace”.  That is to say it is a love that we cannot expect by rights.  It’s a love that we haven’t earned.  In fact, if anything, just the opposite.  Sin makes us un-lovable.  It is a rebellion that separates us from God.

But like the Father welcomed back his prodigal son and lavished upon him shoes, fine clothing, a ring, and threw him a party – so does the Father give us great and undeserved love far too much to fully describe. 

It’s a love that is manifested to us in the person of his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.  For God so loved the world, God loved the world in this way, that he sent his only Son, that whoever believes in him has eternal life.

And it is by this love that we are called children of God.  In fact, it’s more than just a moniker or a label.  We’re not just called “children of God” in an abstract or symbolic sense.  So we are!

The love of God shown to us in Jesus Christ changes our reality.  It puts us in a whole new category:  Child of God.

“Children of God” is a phrase that is thrown around these days, even by the secular world.  Sometimes it is made as an offhand remark, to claim that all people are equal, or equally valuable, that we are all created by God and ultimately part of the same human family.  That’s ok, as far as it goes, but that is not what John means here.

When he says we are called, “Children of God” he means it in contrast to those who are not children of God.  The unbelievers.  The wicked and the scoffers.  The followers of false gods or no god at all.  When you become a child of God in Jesus Christ, you are set apart from all of that, set into the very family of God by grace, through faith.  And the difference could not be any more stark.

For one, as a child of God, he regards you differently.  He hears your prayers favorably, through Christ.  There is no such assurance for an unbeliever.  He forgives your sins – he doesn’t hold them against you!  But for those who reject his grace, a reckoning is coming.  And, as one belonging to his very family, your final destiny is sure.  You’ll be with your Father, and with your Brother, Jesus Christ, in the eternal joy of his kingdom.  The unbeliever will be condemned in the final judgment, and suffer eternal punishment.

No, it’s far better to be a child of God by faith in Christ than the alternative.

And yet, even God’s children must suffer the world until he takes us from it, or until Christ comes again in glory.  John continues:

The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. 

When John says, “the world”, he typically means, “the unbelieving world”.  The world does not know us, the children of God, because it did not know him, Jesus, God’s only begotten Son.  But it’s not just that the world considers us strangers – there is real enmity here.  For just as Christ was despised and rejected by the unbelieving world – both Jews and Gentiles – so we, God’s children, will also face persecution.  Jesus reminds us of that at the end of the Beatitudes.  They’ll persecute you the same as they did the prophets – but great is your reward in heaven.

In other words, don’t see the world’s persecution as a sign of the Father’s disapproval.  Don’t think for a moment that the loving Father who lavishes so much love on us will ever forget his beloved children.  And always remember that though we may suffer now for a little while, better days are coming.  God’s children have a future.

Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.

We are, in this world, even now, God’s children.  We may not always seem like it.  We certainly don’t always act like it.  But his word of declaration and the very blood of Christ have made it so.

 We are God’s children, even now.  We don’t have to wait till we die.  It’s a present reality.  We already have his love, his promises, his salvation.  And yet.  There’s more to come.

“What we will be has not yet appeared.”  What will we be?  Glorified.  Resurrected.  Changed from perishable to imperishable.  Made incorruptible.  Ready to live forever in Christ.  For when he appears, that is, when Christ comes again in glory, we shall see him as he is – and we shall be like him – and we will live with him forever.

And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.

This is the hope of God’s children.  To see Christ when he comes again in glory.  To be raised from death to a glorified, eternal body, like his resurrected, glorified body.  This is our hope, and it is in him.

And it is in this hope, this faith, this lavish grace of God, that we are purified.  Our robes are washed and made clean in the blood of the lamb.  We are blessed.  And we will live in righteousness and purity forever.

Sermon - Reformation Day (Observed) - Psalm 46

 

This Reformation Day we take a closer look at the appointed Psalm for the day, Psalm 46.  “God is our refuge and strength.” “The God of Jacob is our fortress.”  These words in particular inspired Martin Luther to write his great hymn, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.”  The hymn is a sort of paraphrase of Psalm 46, and a profound sermon in its own right.

God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.

A refuge is a place where you go when the going gets tough.  That’s our God! A place of safety in a time of danger.  He is our strength – that is also to say that we, ourselves, have no strength to speak of.  When trouble comes, He is our help – our only hope.  But he is present with us, not far off, but ever near.  By his word, and in his sacraments, he is with us always, even to the end of the age.

² Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way,
    though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea,
³ though its waters roar and foam,
    though the mountains tremble at its swelling. 

This world is a scary place, because it’s broken by sin.  We, ourselves, are broken by sin.  The creation, the earth, the mountains, the seas – all of it seems against us.  If the very ground beneath your feet isn’t a sure place to stand, then, what?  If the mountains themselves tremble when the flood waters threaten, then how can we survive?  But we will not fear.  Because God is our refuge and strength.  And he who created earth and sea and all that is – he is our help in time of trouble.

⁴ There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
    the holy habitation of the Most High.
⁵ God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;
    God will help her when morning dawns.

And now a picture of a better place, a peaceful home – the city of God.  The dwelling place of God with his people.  It has a river, it has everything we need.  Most importantly, God is present there with us, in the midst of her, ready to help when morning dawns.  Just around the corner.

The Book of Revelation keys in on this imagery, too.  It pictures our eternal home, our heavenly dwelling, as an idealized Jerusalem.  The city of God in which there’s no suffering or fear or anything impure.  More than just a safe place to hide, it is a place to delight and rejoice.  And with all the earth shaking and quaking and mountains quivering like pudding, the people of the city of God shall not be moved.  What a contrasting picture.

⁶ The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;
    he utters his voice, the earth melts.
⁷ The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress. 

But it’s not just the creation that is against us – the mountains and seas.  The nations rage.  There are enemies out there, angry and raging foes who would take our lives.  Enemies of the church.  Enemies of the Gospel.  Ready to ridicule and ostracize, persecute and oppose.  That’s why even Luther had to hide out in the Wartburg Castle for a time. 

And even worse, our real struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the spiritual forces behind the scenes.  Kingdoms and powers, devils all the world may fill, all eager to devour us.  And of course, they work under the influence of the Old Evil Foe himself, who wants nothing good for us, only death and despair. Deadly woe.

But God is our refuge and strength.  Therefore we shall not fear.  Our Old Evil Foe is judged, the deed is done, one little word can fell him.

⁸ Come, behold the works of the Lord,
    how he has brought desolations on the earth.
⁹ He makes wars cease to the end of the earth;
    he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;
    he burns the chariots with fire.

You think the fearsome armies of evil have the upper hand?  Oh, no.  Come behold the works of the Lord.  Look, just look and see what our God does to them.  He brings desolations on the earth.  That is to say, he destroys our enemies in the most decisive fashion.  He makes wars cease, even to the ends of the earth.  He even destroys the weapons of war, the bow, the spear, the chariot, so that no further war can be made.  The enemy is utterly undone, by the Lord, the God of Jacob, our helper in time of trouble.

But look what Luther does with this in his hymn:  He further describes and identifies the Valiant One, whom God himself elected.  Our champion in the fight!  Our representative on the field of battle!  The one, the only one who can and does bring us the victory.  Ask ye, “who is this?”  Jesus Christ it is!  Of Sabbaoth Lord, that is, the Lord of the heavenly armies.  With legions and legions of angels at his beck and call, an army far more fierce than anything the old serpent can say.  This is not even a fair fight.  Christ wins the victory, he wins it for us, and he holds the field forever.

And ask ye, how does he do it?  How does our Champion defeat the Old Evil Foe, and all the raging nations, the angry fallen nature and the sin at the root of it all?  With one little word, the word of the Gospel.  It’s not the usual weapons of war, or the every-day way to fight a battle.  Our Champion wins by losing his life.  He defeats death by dying.  He destroys the forces of evil by taking all sin on himself, and submitting to destruction on the cross.  And thus he rescues us from sin, death and the power of the devil.  Thus he secures for us an eternal victory. 

So, we too must let the one little word remain – the word of the gospel – the little word that can fell the ancient dragon.  It’s why we Christians need no take up spear and bow, or sword or gun.  Christ fights the battle for us, and only calls us to hear and believe the word.  There’s not fevered anxiety about this fight.  There’s a calmness in the midst of it – even if the enemy rages and arrows are whizzing by our heads.  He says:

¹⁰ “Be still, and know that I am God.

Profound and simple words of faith.  Be still.  Trust.  He’s got this.  No sin can condemn you.  No devil can vex you.  Not even death can end you.  Be still.  And know, be certain and confident, that he is God.  He’s your God.

    I will be exalted among the nations,
    I will be exalted in the earth!”

The final victory is his.  He, our God, and our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, is exalted among the nations, as the Gospel goes for the and disciples are made by baptizing and teaching.  He is exalted in the earth, when on the last day he returns in glory, and ushers in the new heaven and new earth, the eternal home for all who belong to him. 

¹¹ The Lord of hosts is with us;
    the God of Jacob is our fortress. 

The refrain repeats, the same words that began the psalm.  The Lord of hosts is with us;  we are not alone.  He and his heavenly forces stand with us.  And we stand safe and secure in him, our fortress.  A mighty fortress is our God.  And Christ holds the field, for us, forever.  The kingdom ours remaineth.

Amen.

 

 

Sermon - Pentecost 22 - Matthew 10:23-31

 

Today's Gospel reading follows immediately after last week's, when Jesus lovingly tried to call the rich young man to repentance. “If you want to enter the kingdom, go sell everything you have” and the man went away sad, for he was very rich. And now, Jesus comments on the incident, and on the broader problem of those with great riches entering the kingdom. And his disciples are amazed.

Why were they amazed by this? Perhaps because then, like now, we look at those with wealth and riches in a certain light. We see wealth and riches as a mark of success and perhaps even a sign of God's favor.

We Americans are especially susceptible to this kind of thinking. We are the world's superpower, and even in a down economy, the wealthiest country in the world. Our standard of living is among the highest, and we enjoy many physical blessings just by living here. Even our poor people are quite well off by a worldly standard. So the easy thing to think is, God must favor us. He must be rewarding us, as a nation, for our great values on freedom and equality. We're so wonderful aren't we? God must really love this country the most.

Well maybe you're not so convinced. But what about when we look at worldly success in the church? Look at the churches that are successful, and have it made – in terms of money and people. The happening places, the bigger the better. Yes, they have the nicest buildings, the best parking lots, the newest sound systems. And the people are going there in droves – look they have so many young people and now they need to build and expand again and.... you might think... that God is really blessing that congregation because of its worldly success, its wealth. A sign of God's favor. But be careful. Bigger isn't always better, more isn't always more favored, and these outward trappings of success can easily be as much a sign of problems in the church.

Or even as an individual. Even when we look at ourselves. For many others might consider us to be wealthy. But don't we think we've earned it? Don't we tell ourselves we deserve all the nice things we have? We've worked for them. We take care of our things. We give back... somewhat... We know how to handle money. We have lots of handy reasons and rationalizations- but in the end it's the same lie – that God likes me better, that he's giving me all these good things because I deserve them. That whatever success and wealth and “stuff” I have in life is mine and I earned it.

But Jesus throws a monkey wrench in all that. For those rich people, for those successful people, and even for you and me. How difficult it is to enter the kingdom of God! And if you're rich – well – all the more. It's easier for a camel - the largest animal (perhaps they weren't familiar with elephants and dinosaurs) to go through the smallest opening. It's a ridiculous thought. It's physically impossible.

And notice the disciples' reaction. “Then who can be saved?!” See, it's not that they considered themselves rich, but they thought that wealth was a sign of God's favor. And if even the ones God blesses with riches can't enter the kingdom, than what about poor little old me? If those who are successful can't even do it, then what about me – I struggle from day to day. I can't keep my ducks in a row. I can't handle my problems. I can't even control myself. I'm a mess. I'm a sinner.

This is what Jesus is looking for. They are starting to realize the problem. They need him. You need him. Despair of your own efforts, your own works, your own value and worth. If even the rich and powerful and successful and glamorous are shut out of the kingdom, if not even those far “better” than you and I can get in... then we are sunk. On our own, we are lost. Without God, it is impossible.

“With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.”

Once the despair starts to set in, the helplessness and hopelessness of their situation, Jesus starts to open the door for the Gospel. He begins to explain that while yes, it is impossible for you, even for the rich man, to enter the kingdom... with God, it's possible. It's possible, and it's a reality, in Jesus Christ... but first Peter interrupts....

“Lord, we've left everything to follow you...” Maybe this is the trick, Peter reasons. Maybe it's not being rich, but being poor that earns God's favor. Maybe it's leaving everything behind. Maybe it really is selling all your stuff and going to live in a monastery, or serving amongst the poor of Calcutta. 

But it's not that either. It's never been about having the things or not having the things. It's never been about being rich or poor, successful or not. Or about where you live and how big your house or small your checkbook. God desires all men to be saved. God blesses rich and poor alike with the blessings that truly count. It's about the heart, it's about the faith, it's about Jesus.

Jesus, who truly left everything behind, when he left his throne in heaven to be born a lowly human and laid in a lowly manger. Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the son of man had no where to rest his head. He had no wealth or beauty that we should regard him, but humiliated himself – stricken, smitten, afflicted, chastised and condemned. Even his garments were stripped from him at the end. A man of sorrows, well acquainted with grief. Hardly a worldly success story. He who was first became last of all... at the cross.

This is how God does the impossible. This is how God gets the rich and the poor and even you through the eye of the needle into the kingdom of heaven – through the cross. Through the impossible thought of God becoming Man, and the Creator dying for the creature, the one without sin, taking the sins of all. And through death, bringing forth life. Impossible? Not with God. Not with Jesus Christ. Not with silver or gold, but with his holy precious blood.

And this faith will lead us who believe to fear, love, and trust in him above all things. Above all material wealth and riches. It may mean literally leaving some things behind. Or it may mean simply repenting of putting these idols before the true God. Christ is worth far more to us than “houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands”. And Christ promises us far more than any of that in the kingdom to come.

But he also mentions persecution. Before the bright shiny day at the end of the tunnel, there are persecutions. Christians can expect that the life of faith brings trouble, hardship, and persecution. People won't regard us like they regard the rich – with awe and admiration. The world won't roll out the red carpet for the followers of Jesus.

In the kingdom of God things aren't always as they seem. The rich aren't always the ones with God's favor. And the persecuted and troubled aren't always the ones out of favor. The last are sometimes first, and the first are sometimes last. And even the extraordinary, the incredible, the impossible.... is possible, and very real. Even for you the sinner, salvation is sure, through Jesus Christ our Lord. In his name, Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 21 - Mark 10:2-16

 

One of those little aphorisms they taught us at seminary was something like this, “ministry happens in the interruptions.”  In other words, don’t be surprised when the most important things you do to serve people as a pastor are unplanned, and not part of the “normal” routines, not something that you think is important or necessary, but something that happens when some need arises or some question needs an answer.  It’s part of the reason I like to keep my office door open as much as possible – I’ve actually learned to appreciate the “interruptions.”

Well, today, as Jesus is setting out on a journey, he is interrupted.  A rich young man comes running up and kneels before Jesus in what appears to be quite a show.  He has, also, quite a question, and really an important one for him and for all people who would be saved.  “What must I do to inherit eternal life?” 

From the outset we can see something is amiss with this young man.  He calls Jesus, “Good teacher” and Jesus pushes back on that.  “Why do you call me good?  No one is good except God alone.”  Now, of course, Jesus isn’t denying that he is good, OR that he is God.  But with his question he begins to unravel this man’s self-righteousness. The rich young man will go on to show that he doesn’t recognize true goodness, nor does he see in Jesus anything more than a “good teacher.”  If only he would see him as the Son of God, the Savior. 

Nonetheless, he engages the question.  What must I do to inherit eternal life?  Jesus points him to the commandments.

We might notice that Jesus begins here with the second table of the law, those commandments that have to do with our love for our neighbor.  And we will get to those in a minute.  But what about the first table of the law?  Why not address that?  It seems Jesus has already done so, at least in part, by challenging the man’s understanding of who God is – no one is good but God alone.  No one is deserving of our fear, love and trust, but God alone.  No one’s name is to be holy, but God alone.  No one’s word is worth gathering around, week in and week out, but God alone.  There is no other source of good for us in life, but every good and perfect gift comes down from above, that is to say, from God.  And no one comes to the Father, except through the Son.

But to the point, Jesus says, “you know the commandments…” and then he summarizes the second table in loose fashion:

Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.

And now we see just how twisted up this young man is, for he claims, “All these I have kept from my youth.”

We know better, don’t we?  You may not have murdered someone, but you’ve hurt and harmed your neighbor, even if only in thoughts, but likely also in words and deeds. 

You might not have outwardly committed adultery, but what goes on in the darkness of your heart would be shameful even to mention. 

You can say you haven’t borne false witness, but that would be a false witness itself, as each of us drags our neighbor’s good name through the mud when it suits us. 

Honor your father and mother.  Yes, you probably love your parents, but that doesn’t mean you have always honored them, nor does it mean you always respect and honor the other authorities God places over you. 

In short, you, and I, and all people must admit, “all these I have broken from my youth.”  We must stand before Jesus and confess our sins, rather than rationalize our own goodness.  And he, who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

How frustrated our Lord must have been when the man failed to see his sin in light of the commandments.  He doesn’t know what good is, and he doesn’t know God rightly.  He thinks he loves his neighbor, but he doesn’t.  And he worships another god, his wealth.  And so Jesus gives it one last shot.  He zeroes in on this man’s great idol, and aims for the very foundations.  “You lack one thing.  Sell all your stuff and give to the poor, then come follow me.”

Whatever you won’t give up to follow Jesus, that’s your idol.  That’s your god.  For many people it’s wealth, for others its power or pleasure or social standing.  But there’s only room enough for one God in the human heart, and no man can serve two masters – it’s God or money.  And this man went away sad, for he had great wealth.  It seems, at least at that moment, he couldn’t forsake his false god and follow the true God.

And though some might say it’s cruel to trouble people about their sins, notice that Mark says, “Jesus looked at him and loved him.”  He doesn’t rub his nose in the commandments out of hatred.  He doesn’t call him to repent of his idolatry out of malice.  The call to repent is a loving call to turn from the self-destruction of sin, and the deceit of self-righteousness, to turn to Christ and live.  For Jesus loved him.  And Jesus loves you, too.

Greater love has no one than this: that he would lay down his life for his friends.  Greater good has no one done than this:  that he gave up his life for us all.  The cross is the only answer the debt of sin that we’ve incurred, but Jesus spends everything he has to pay it – even his holy, precious blood. 

Jesus preaches some strong law today, to the rich young man and to all men and women, even to us.  But he’s also the bringer of the best good news, the salvations that comes through him and him alone. He looks at us, and loves us, too.

Christ, for his part, kept all these laws from his youth.  He always helped and supported his neighbor in bodily need.  He never committed adultery.  He never took what wasn’t his.  He always honored his father and mother.  He kept and fulfilled every law to every detail, like us in every way yet without sin.  He lived a life of perfect righteousness from conception to birth to adulthood.  In his work in his rest, on his own and with so many others.  He always, always, did right, did good, and never sinned.

And the one who alone is good, and who is himself God, gives that righteousness to us, as a gift, a blessing, yes, an inheritance.  Not to be earned, not to be won by great effort or willpower.  Only by pure grace.

What must I do to inherit eternal life?  Answer:  Nothing.  Believe in Jesus Christ, and you will be saved.  Trust him who has done it all for you.  It’s an inheritance, after all, something you get when someone dies.  And the Good Teacher did just that.  He died for your inheritance, and he rose to pave the way for your eternal life.

Sermon - Pentecost 20 - Mark 10:2-16

 

Our congregation has, for many years, observed an annual “life Sunday.”  Of course, we teach, as the Bible does, that life is precious and that from conception we are created in the image of God.  It’s a teaching that many reject today, an unpopular teaching in a culture of death where personal choice reigns supreme.

Perhaps, in a similar way, we need to start observing a “Marriage and Family Sunday.”   Our appointed readings today invite just such a thing. 

Jesus teaches us the importance of marriage, and warns against divorce and adultery.  He speaks this little axiomatic phrase, “What God has joined together, let man not separate” or “put asunder.”  And then he goes on to discuss children, indignant that the disciples tried to shoo the children away, and eager to give those little ones his blessing. 

Marriage and family are under duress in our culture.  But to some extent they always have been.  Adam and Eve didn’t even have the perfect marriage.  Adam failed to protect his wife from the lies of the serpent.  And Eve brought Adam into her sin by sharing the forbidden fruit.  Ever since then, all of Adam and Eve’s children have struggled with the effects of sin, yes, even in the family.  Even their own children saw it, when Cain murdered his brother Abel, and was sent into exile.

Today it’s not just divorce that troubles marriage, but marriage itself has been re-defined, and continues to evolve, at least in the minds of our unbelieving secular world.  No longer a life-long union of one man and one woman, no longer respected as holy and sacred as an institution established by God.  But more and more, marriage is seen as a self-serving, self-defined, completely customizable and entirely disposable human arrangement. 

No longer is it recognized that God makes us male and female, but now each person is free, we are told, to choose their orientation and their gender, in an ever swirling chaos of individual self-determination disconnected from nature, genetics, and reality.

But this is not just a sermon to make us feel good about how bad the culture is and how good we Christians are in contrast.  Sure, we must point out the depravity out there and reject it.  But let’s not pass over the depravity and sin in here, in each of our hearts, and expressed in our own sinful thoughts, words and deeds.  The truth is, we, too, dishonor marriage and family in many ways.  The truth is, we, too, must repent of our rejection and mismanagement of God’s gifts.

In Luther’s explanation to the 6^th commandment he not only reminds us that we should lead a sexually pure and decent life in what we do and say, but also that husband and wife should love and honor each other.  There’s a tall order, if you think about it!

Married people almost certainly sin against each other more than they do against anyone else, just because you share your day to day life, and we sin so much.  We do not love our spouses as we should, in thought, word or deed.  We do things that hurt them, and we don’t do everything we should to help them. 

In terms of Ephesians 5:  Husbands fail in their God-given leadership role, and do not love our wives like Christ loves his bride the church.  We do not, as we should, lay down our life for her. 

And wives often fail in their God-given role as helper, sometimes disrespecting the husband.  Sometimes rather acting as usurper, taking the headship that belongs to the husband, refusing to submit as Holy Scripture teaches.

Thanks be to God, that all of us have the forgiveness of Christ won at the cross, a forgiveness deep enough to cover even the smoking rubble of a failed marriage.  A forgiveness wide enough to cover the multitude of sins we commit in this and every area of life.  Christ is, after all, the True Bridegroom, who purifies his bride the Church, and presents her to himself holy and blameless.

And it is in this forgiveness that we live, as Christian husbands and wives, and as Christian single people.  And it is this forgiveness that we share and freely apply to those who sin against us.

He gives us the earthly gift of marriage, which stands as a reminder of the heavenly reality of the blessed union between Christ and the Church, between God and his people, and of his all-surpassing love for us.

And then, it seems no accident that right after he deals with marriage, our Lord makes some comments about children.  For that is his design, that children are a fruit of the marital union.  The two become one flesh, in a most literal way, when God blesses them with a new life, fruitful and multiplying.

But not everyone welcomes children.  Today we see declining birth rates, which must represent, at least in part, a growing self-centeredness of our culture.  Rather than seeing children as a blessing from God, some see children as a hindrance to career and financial well-being, expensive and inconvenient obstacles to living life to the fullest.  We could not disagree more.

One of the greatest blessings in life is to welcome a child into your family, and to bring that child to Jesus.  That’s a huge part of what we are about at Messiah, and why we go to the trouble and expense of operating a Christian school.  We want to honor Jesus’ words to the fullest, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God.” 

We want children, our children, and all children, to hear the Word of God, to learn the Word of God, to believe the Word of God, and to always grow in the Word of God.  We want what is best for them, and nothing could be better than bringing them, through God’s word, to Jesus.

Jesus has a special place for children, and he commends them as examples of faith.  “whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a child cannot enter it.”  And so in a sense we must all become like children, we must receive the kingdom as children.  A child-like faith, trusting, as children trust their parents.  A child-like faith, which comes without pride and arrogance, but knowing nothing and ready to be taught.  A child-like faith which receives, gratefully, what the Father provides.

Just as marriage serves as a picture for us of heavenly realities, and of God’s love for his people – so too do children remind us that in Christ we are made children of God, and heirs of a heavenly kingdom. 

Therefore, Christians, let us honor marriage, and receive children with thanksgiving.  Let us hold up these precious gifts of God for the blessing they are – and for the greater blessings they reflect.  Husbands love your wives.  Wives love your husbands.  Children, honor your father and mother.  And parents, love your children by bringing them to Jesus.  He will bless them, and you. 

Sermon - St. Michael and All Angels - Rev. 12:7-12

 

And war broke out in heaven....

We know of war. We hear of wars and rumors of wars. Hezbollah, Hamas and Israel.  Ukraine and Russia.  Or in other times, Iraq, Vietnam, Korea, Germany and Japan. 

We see our nation and others fighting over things that matter and things that don't. Some of you have even fought in wars, in foreign lands. Maybe you're against war in general or against a particular war. Maybe you wonder, war, what is it good for?

But the war that broke out in heaven – is like no other war that would ever be. Michael the archangel and his angels fought with the dragon, that great serpent of old, and all his evil angels.

We don't know how long this war lasted, or if, even, that's a question that makes sense. Revelation uses pictures and symbols to express heavenly and spiritual realities, that are in many cases, timeless, eternal. But though they are spiritual, they are just as real.

So in this war of the heavens, we don't know what tactics and strategies were used, or many other things. But we know what's most important: who wins. The good guys. Michael and the angels. They cast the Dragon – aka the Devil, Satan, the Ancient Serpent – they cast him and his fallen angels out of heaven – there is no place for them in God's presence any longer – and they fell.

In rage, smoldering at their defeat and humiliation, the Devil seeks to do what damage he can in what little time he has left. If he can't get to the Lord of Heaven himself, he will set his sights on those created in God's image. And so he roars and prowls and looks to devour even you, and you, and me. The Devil is real, and he is dangerous. He is our most powerful enemy. He is far smarter than you. He knows God's Word far better... Luther even called the Devil a Doctor of Theology. But his wicked knowledge is all geared toward one purpose – to do you harm. To destroy your life, to see you suffer and die. And ultimately, if it were possible, to steal you away, to lead you astray, even gently if he has to, from the Christian faith and from your Lord.

This is the most insidious way that he devours. His slithering question, “Did God really say...?” continues to be asked today. It is asked in the public square when Christian teaching is ridiculed and marginalized. It is asked in church bodies that dance to the Devil's pied-piper tune and plot a course away from God's word and into heresy and damnation. And the Devil's question is asked and answered when you reach for whatever forbidden fruit hangs in front of you – and you decide you know better and want to be like God. Oh Lord, deliver us from this evil, we pray!

But just as our foe was cast out of Heaven, so will he one day be cast into the lake of fire. Just as he fell like lightning from heaven, so does he fall in defeat to the same weapons of warfare used by Michael and the angels. “they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony”. It seems the angels, too, use the same weapons given to us, Christians. The blood of the Lamb and the testimony, the word of God.

The word. It's the way Jesus himself defeated the tempter in the wilderness. His refrain:  It is written. It is written. It is written. The word that created and recreates. The same word which bespeaks us righteous. The same word cried out, “Father forgive them” and which forgives you, even today. The same word that will be spoken over your grave, “Death, where is thy victory, Death where is thy sting?”. The same word which will be spoken at the trumpet call of God when Christ returns with all his angels and brings all things to fulfillment. The word of God. That word of God that was made flesh in Christ.

And the other “weapon” by which they overcame - The blood of the Lamb. It's the way Jesus himself defeated the Foe on our behalf, at the cross. There and then the Accuser lost any sins to accuse, because Jesus took them all away. The blood of the Lamb. “His blood be on us and on our children” the murderous crowd seethed. And bitter and blessed irony, His blood is upon us, to save us. The blood of the Lamb, by the water of baptism, douses the doorposts of your heart - to mark you – so that the destroyer would pass over this one. Jesus was destroyed in your place. His blood shed in exchange for yours. His defeat – your victory.

But the blood of Jesus doesn't just stop at the cross. The blood of Jesus by which we overcome the Dragon and all his forces of evil is also for us today. The blood once shed, the body once broken – dead, but now alive forever – that same body and blood are here for you in on the altar, in the bread and wine, by the promise of the Lamb himself. Here, he breaks and hinders every evil plan and purpose of the devil, and saves us by his grace, delivering us from evil. Here in this holy meal you receive the victorious Christ, and are united with him and with his victory.

Likewise the testimony by which they overcame – the same word of God, the Gospel of Jesus Christ in particular, is preached from this pulpit, read at that lectern, sung in this sanctuary, prayed at this altar. This word, this sharp, two-edged sword, not only kills our old Adam and revives our own Spirit, but the same proclamation of Christ disarms and destroys the foe and his accusations. It is the one little word that can fell him.

So God sends his holy angels, who once cast Satan from heaven, to watch over us even here and now. In a sense the war still continues, as we struggle not against flesh and blood but against the spiritual forces of evil. Thanks be to God for our allies in this fight, those messengers from on high who watch over and defend the children of God at his command. Why shouldn't the Lord God, who spared not even his own Son for our salvation, not also give us even more? Why shouldn't he who feeds us and quenches us with Christ's body and blood, and speaks to us his word of promise, not also keep us by his firstborn sons of light?

Therefore rejoice, oh heavens, and you who dwell in them! And can't we count ourselves among the inhabitants of heaven? Certainly our citizenship is there. Surely our destination is with the Lord. Even now, we are strangers and sojourners on this earth. We are in it, but not of it.  One day we, too, will take our place in the company of heaven, with angels and archangels.  One day our voices will join with all the saints, and the angelic choir in eternal praise around the throne of God.

For salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ have come.. to us. Like the angels, we too overcome by the blood of the Lamb and by the testimony. And we too see the accusations of Satan fall to nothing, for in Christ, your sins are no more. Battle over. Victory won. Eternity secure. In Jesus' Name. Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 18 - Mark 9:30-37

 

Today we examine, through our readings, the Christian teaching of humility.  It’s a value we share, at least to some extent, with the secular world.  Practically no one, even an unbeliever, would say that it’s good to be proud and arrogant, and that it’s not good to be humble.  But we Christians see humility as much more than a virtue.  It is deeply connected to our understanding of sin.  And for Christians, true humility also has its roots deep in the person and work of Christ.  Let’s consider Christian humility this morning.

The disciples of Jesus, you might think, would be wonderful examples of humility.  But anyone who’s read the New Testament enough knows better.  In so many ways, these disciples are like us, and like all people, subject to the fallen nature, and just as much full of pettiness and sin as anyone.  So, Mark tells us, on the road they were having an argument amongst themselves about who was the greatest.

I like to imagine how that conversation might have gone.  Peter claiming he’s the greatest, because he got to walk on water.  Then another says, “yeah, but he also told you ‘get behind me Satan’”  Then Nathaniel makes his case, “I’m clearly the greatest.  He called me a true Israelite in whom there is nothing false” and John, “well, I’m the disciple that Jesus loves!”  And Judas, “yeah but which one of you does he trust to carry the money bag?”

Like petulant children fighting in the back seat of a car on a long road trip, and mom and dad just listen in and don’t intervene.  Jesus heard the whole thing.  He knew what they were arguing about.  And he waited till later to address it.

When he did ask them, they were silent.  And that silence speaks volumes.  They seemed to know what they did was shameful.  They couldn’t even give an excuse for their petty grandstanding, their jockeying for position.  Funny how a gentle question, rightly timed, can disarm us and show us our sin so clearly.

Who is the greatest?  It’s a question we also ask among ourselves, in many and various ways.  But for them, and for us, it’s the wrong question.  The right question, the question that they should have been asking, is to hear more about what Jesus had been telling them.  For in the paragraph before we hear him say,

“The Son of Man is going to be delivered into the hands of men, and they will kill him. And when he is killed, after three days he will rise.” 32 But they did not understand the saying, and were afraid to ask him.

And if they asked, he might have told them, shown them, how the scriptures had to be thus fulfilled.  He could have taught them that the true purpose of the Messiah is not to come as conquering king or military strongman, but as a humble servant, and a sacrifice for sin.  To lay down his life as a ransom for his friends.  To be delivered up for the sins of the people, and to rise on the third day.

Jesus is, of course the greatest, by rights, by nature.  The very Son of God, eternal, immortal, almighty, all-knowing, and so much more.  But the Greatest shows his greatness not in braggadocio, nor in mighty feats of power and glory… he shows his greatness in humility.

From your confirmation studies, you might recall how we speak of Jesus in his “State of Humiliation”.  That is, how he puts aside, for the most part, his divine power and glory, and descends, condescends, to us. 

He, “who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.” (Philippians 2:6-7)

The Apostles’ Creed outlines Christ’s work for us in his state of humiliation:  He was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died, and was buried.

He humbled himself to live among us, even as a child.  He learned to talk, to walk, he learned the Scriptures.  He humbly and obediently obeyed his parents, and submitted to their authority.

He humbly suffered, throughout his life – nowhere to lay his head.  No great riches or fine clothing, nothing but humble service all along the way.  He suffered the rejection of many, his own people, even betrayal by one of his own.  He was handed over to sinful men, and yet humbly stood before them, like a lamb led to the slaughter, silent.  And he did not turn away at the last, but embraced his cross, scorned its shame, drank the cup fully, and could not be brought any lower than death and grave.

In all of this, and throughout his earthly life, Christ made himself lower, least, last.  He humbled himself, even unto death, even death on the cross.

And he did it, mind you, not just to be an example to us.  He did it to be our savior.  To take our place under the law.  To make himself a substitute for us, to do the job, all the jobs right – that we did not and cannot. 

And so Jesus teaches his disciples, as they are able to receive it.  The time would come when they would more fully comprehend, and even preach, his humble service in life and death.  The time would come when they would, like their Lord, lay down their lives in humble service and great faith.  But for now, he gives them a principle and an object lesson.

The principle is this:  “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.”  Exactly opposite of worldly thinking.  If you would be first, you must be last.  If you would be great, you must serve. And if you want to be the greatest of all, you must be the servant of all.  Of course that’s what Jesus does.  He serves the world by become last of all, lowest of all, dying for all. 

And we, in Christian service, are now called to serve others in response.  We can’t be the savior of the world, nor do we need to be.  But we are to serve those we can in sincere humility.

Our humility is different than Christ’s, though.  For he made himself lowly, though he was of highest place by rights.  Each of us, however, starts out far differently.  Paul says, “if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing….” To warn us from boasting.  Because in sin, we are all nothing.  We are, if we are honest, already lowly and despised, the things that are not.  But only through the righteousness of Christ are we exalted.  Only through the precious blood of Christ do we attain any value before God’s throne.  Only through Christ can we receive the Father, the one who sent him.

And so humbling ourselves in service is more a recognition of our lowly state, and a reflection of the love Christ has shown to us in his own humility.

Oh, and the object lesson?  A child.  Lowly and humble, a little child who doesn’t know much, can’t do much for himself, brings no great wealth or wisdom to bear.  But a child, a recipient.  A picture of how we approach God, and a prime example of how we can show Christ’s love.

You’re no better than this lowly child.  But receive him in my name, and receive me, and receiving me, receive him who sent me.  Don’t think you’re too good, even for a child, but show true humility in service to the humble and lowly, in my name.

For Christ, the humble one, suffered and died at the hands of sinful men, and rose again on the third day.  Christ, the greatest one, has made himself last and least for you.  Therefore humble yourself in the sight of the Lord, and he will exalt you, in Jesus Christ our Lord, amen.