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.

Sermon - Pentecost 17 - James 3:1-12

 

The Lord has given me an instructed tongue.  So says the Prophet Isaiah.  Sounds like a good thing.  On the other hand…

The tongue is an un-tame-able beast, a flaming fire, a fountain of deadly poison.  So says James in our Epistle reading.

James even goes on to ponder the paradox of the tongue, that the same mouth speaks both curses and blessings, like a spring that brings forth fresh and salt water, or a tree that bears two different kinds of fruit.  These things shouldn’t be!  But they are.

Such is the life of a Christian, a sinner and also a saint.  We are walking paradoxes, living contradictions.  It is, to say the least, a great mystery.

While we sin in so many and various ways, today our readings call us to consider especially sins of speech – the tongue, the mouth. 

As the crown of God’s creation, and made in his own likeness, one of the things that sets us humans apart from animals is the ability to speak.  Like God himself, who spoke creation into being, we are given the ability to form words and communicate thoughts.  We can make small talk about the weather, and we can share complicated ideas about academic minutiae.

But because our hearts are polluted with sin, and our minds are bent and perverted with sin, the sinful thoughts inside of us give rise to sinful words.  The sin spews out of our mouths like a poison.  Like an open sewer pipe, only far more destructive are the sinful words of our sinful speech.

Oh, sure, a little gossip here and there seems harmless enough.  An unkind word, perhaps spoken in anger.  A white lie to cover our tracks in an embarrassing situation.  But the white lie grows.  The venom of a harsh word spreads.  And the gossip spreads and shatters our neighbor’s good name.  These are no small matters.

Just because it’s true doesn’t mean we can say it without sin.  We must also speak words that are kind, and that build up.  Speak the truth in love, as Paul writes in Ephesians.  Easier said than done.

Just as our confession of sins covers sins of thought, word, and deed… so also we are reminded that we sin by what we do, and by what we have left undone.  This goes for our speech, too.

There are times in which we sin by not speaking as we should.  By not speaking up when our neighbor is being maligned.  By not defending his reputation from gossip and lies.  By not explaining our neighbor’s actions in the kindest way.

At times we fail to give a good witness – either out of fear of repercussions or embarrassment.  We do nothing, we say nothing, when we should have spoken the truth in love.  And so the tongue can sin with the words we say, but also with the words we withhold.

But what is the other side of this coin?  What words and speech must we hear and speak that prove better, and good?  What is the antidote to the poison, the thing that can quench the flame, what can tame the savage beast?

Consider Isaiah’s words, “the Lord has given me an instructed tongue”.  Before we speak, we must hear, and listen.  And the instruction that Isaiah means in particular is the word of God, and even more particularly, the Gospel.

Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.  The instructed tongue is the person who speaks from faith, because he has heard the Gospel of Jesus Christ and believed.

God’s word of promise is exactly the antidote and answer for all our corrupted speech, our filthy sinful talk.  He cleanses us by the blood of Christ in our entire being.  Christ’s sacrifice restores us to a wholeness, a righteousness, a holiness of word and deed that is not our own – but comes by grace, through faith in him.

Consider all the gracious words that flow from his lips.  The promises of life and peace and health and blessing. 

Consider how he joins his word to water in the sacrament of holy baptism, and that watery word becomes a flood of blessings your whole life through

Consider his precious words of testament, spoken over humble bread and wine, with the promise of his body and blood given there for your forgiveness.

Consider the words he spoke to his apostles, that whoever’s sins are forgiven on earth are forgiven even in heaven – and that those same words of absolution are spoken by your pastor today.

The instructed tongue of Christ delivers to us that which he receives from the Father – all good things – words of grace, mercy and peace.

And then there is the instructed tongue of the believer.

The instructed tongue of the believer doesn’t mean you’ve gone to seminary, though maybe you have.  It doesn’t mean that you have memorized the entire Bible or can mine the original Greek and Hebrew.  It doesn’t even mean that you regularly attend Bible Class at church (although, of course, that would be good to do!)

It means you have heard the instruction of the Gospel, heard the word of salvation in Jesus Christ, and believed.  And that changes everything – your heart, your mind, even your speech.

While the flesh still frustrates us, it does not do so entirely.  For the Christian not just sinner, he is also saint.  The new creation, the child of God, the person who God has made us to be in Christ – he’s a different sort of fellow.  He speaks quite differently.

For one, we confess the faith that is within us.  We do it formally with things like the creeds and the catechism.  We recite and repeat the word of God, and it is never far from our lips.

We share the hope that is within us whenever we have the opportunity.  We are witnesses of all that God has done for us, and so we are glad to tell others the good news we have heard and believed.

And, of course, the instructed tongue also prays.  And here we come to touch for a moment on our Gospel reading.

The disciples were frustrated that THEY couldn’t cast out the demon.  The Scribes and the crowds along with them seemed to frustrate Jesus, “how long do I have to put up with this faithless generation?”

But the father of the boy prayed.  His tongue was instructed unto faith.  He prayed to Jesus that precious little prayer that so many of us have repeated, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”  And Jesus answered his prayer.

Later, when the disciples wondered why they couldn’t cast out this evil spirit, why the failed, Jesus said, “this kind can only be cast out by prayer.”  But he doesn’t mean just the right formula of the perfect words.  When Jesus urges prayer, he’s simply urging us to give word to our faith.  Only the believer can truly pray, after all, and God will only hear the prayers of the faithful – for we pray in the name of Jesus.

So let us always live by faith in Christ, with a faith that prays:  Lord, give us an instructed tongue.  Forgive us, Lord, for sins of our words, and form in us a faith that prays, and confesses, and sings your praises forever.  Lord, we believe, help our unbelief.  And teach us to pray.  In Jesus’ Name.  Amen

Sermon - Pentecost 16 - Mark 7:31-37

St. Mark tells us today about an occasion on which Jesus healed a man who was deaf and head a speech impediment.  Even today, we understand that hearing and speaking are related, and so it’s no surprise that the man had trouble with both.  Nor is it a surprise that Jesus bothered to help the man, and that he healed him and restored him fully.  It’s Jesus, after all, and he has compassion on those who are in need.

What lessons can we take from this miracle, what application for our life and faith in this day and age?  

We can perhaps sympathize with the deaf man.  We don’t know exactly when his deafness began (perhaps it was even from birth).  But we do know that hearing is a valuable human sense and this man was without it.  While many helps and accommodations have come in modern times to help the deaf, even a whole sign language, sadly none of these would have existed in Jesus’ day.  The deaf man just had to make the best of his condition, such as it was.

Perhaps almost as bad, he had a speech impediment.  Apparently he could speak some, or with some great difficulty.  But it surely also served as a source of frustration and made it hard for him to communicate with those around him.

When Jesus takes him aside in order to heal him, Mark tells us that as part of it Jesus sighed.  It’s kind of an unusual detail to mention.  What did that sigh of Jesus mean?  Martin Luther suggests that it was a sigh of Jesus’ reaction to the havoc sin and death cause in our world.  Sort of similar to Jesus’ reaction at the tomb of Lazarus, where it says he was “deeply moved in spirit, and troubled”.

We can sympathize with the deaf man, even if we are not deaf.  We can feel for him even if we don’t have a physical disability of our own.  Because we, too, groan under the effects of sin and death in our lives.  The details may be different, but the circumstances are the same.  We are broken, and we are dying.  Nothing in this fallen creation is exactly as it should be.  Some things are entirely lost.  Some things are not lost, but are ruined.  And some things are a polluted or corrupted version of what they are meant to be.

Of course, there’s also the spiritual condition of deafness.  Or that we might think of our sinful condition as being unable to hear, or listen, to God’s Word.  Just as sometimes we speak of being spiritually blind, spiritually dead, and spiritually enemies of God.  So, too, our fallen state makes us deaf to his word, and unable to either do what his law commands or believe what his Gospel promises.  It is only with the intervention of Jesus, by his Spirit, that we are restored and made new.  The Holy Spirit calls us by the Gospel, and that word that we couldn’t and wouldn’t hear, that word itself opens our deaf ears and closed hearts to hear and believe.

You see, the Word of God has such power.  It doesn’t just say things, it does things!

Hebrews says, “For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword”  Paul says in 2 Corinthians, “The letter kills, but the Spirit gives life!”  And of course we all know the performative power of God’s word even from the beginning, in the creation, when God spoke, “let there be…”   And, of course, there was.

God’s word does what it promises to do.  When the words of absolution are spoken, “I forgive you your sins, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit”, then you know that your sins are forgiven.  When God speaks such a word, even through the humble mouth of a pastor, reality is changed, sins are forgiven, and heaven itself is Ephphatha – opened – to us.

When Jesus died on the cross he spoke, he declared, “It is finished!”  And so it was.  Death was finished.  Sin was finished.  All the power of the Devil was undone.  The divine verdict of condemnation on us was overturned as Christ himself served the sentence of death.  And just as when a judge pronounces those words, “not guilty!” , so too with the Word of God it becomes a reality.

So Jesus says to the man, or rather, to his ears, “Ephphatha!  Be opened”  And those deaf ears simply must obey.  They must hear, because the one who created them, created us, created all is speaking.  And he will be heard.

This is how faith itself works, too.  God speaks, and that Gospel creates the very faith that believes it.  His word supplies all that is needed, even what is needed to believe that very word!

And then, let us not forget that Jesus also restored the man’s speech.  As we said, speech and hearing go together.  Even today we notice that hearing loss or a hearing problem can delay the development of speech.  And if someone is deaf from birth, it is only with great difficulty that speech is learned.

But Jesus restores his speech fully.  He doesn’t just set the man to zero, so that he can learn to talk again.  Jesus doesn’t do things half-way like that.  And so just as Adam was created whole, and had enough command of language that he could speak with God and even name the animals, so the deaf man’s tongue was loosened, set aright, and his speech restored to fullness.

Here, too, a spiritual application comes to mind.  Just as we are unable to hear God’s word until faith comes, so also can we not confess that faith unless and until he enables us.  But faith must speak.  Faith must confess.  The person who has heard the good news delights to tell the good news when given opportunity.  And so do we.

We confess with the crowds who observed such miracles, that Jesus “has done all things well.”  If they only knew the fullness of such a claim! 

He opened the eyes of the blind

and the ears of the deaf unstopped;

He made the lame man leap like a deer,

and the tongue of the mute sing for joy.

He brings forth in the wilderness,

and streams in the desert

He brings life from death, righteousness from wickedness, and makes saints out of sinners.  He brings down the mighty from their thrones and exalts the lowly.

He opens that which is closed – your ears to hear and believe – he opens heaven itself to receive your soul when you die – and he will open your grave in the final “Ephphatha” on the last day when he calls you to resurrection.

He has done all things well!  So we have heard with our ears, so we confess with our mouths, even Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 14 - Mark 7:1-13

Messiah is well known as being a “traditional” congregation.  We offer the traditional liturgy.  We have liturgical worship, with the organ, the hymnal, and all the accoutrements. And we like it this way.  We see it as a strength, a selling point, a real positive.  We stand in contrast to many of the churches in our area, even within the LCMS, as being distinctly traditional.  It’s a big reason a lot of us are here.

But today, our Lord Jesus Christ warns us of the dangers of tradition.  Or, more specifically, of teaching as doctrine the traditions of men.  We must be crystal clear – God’s word is one thing, and human tradition is another.  And human tradition ought never overshadow or oppose the word of God.

But like all good gifts, we sinners have a tendency to misuse them.  The Pharisees certainly did so.  The particular problem came when Jesus’ disciples were not following the ritual washings prescribed by the Pharisees, and the Pharisees complained about it.  Mark tells us some background here, how the Jews used to ritually wash (or baptize) everything from their hands, to pots and pans, to their couches.  And while the Law of Moses certainly did contain some rituals and ceremonies that God commanded the Old Testament people to perform, the Pharisees took these to a much higher level, and created laws upon laws, tradition upon tradition, in their vain attempts at works righteous legalism.

But here exactly is the problem.  They set aside the law of God in their pursuit of all these man-made laws.  They may have looked outwardly pious, but inside was the rot.  “They praise me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me,” says the Lord.

Jesus gives them an example.  They had prescribed a work-around for the 4th commandment of honoring father and mother.  They said, “if you give money to the temple, then you’re off the hook.  You aren’t responsible for your aging parents anymore.”  But Moses taught them the command of God as such, honor your father and mother, and it cannot be annulled by a tradition of man.  

And many such things you do, Jesus said.  Might he say the same of us?

This sort of thing was a huge issue in the Reformation.  Rome had devised all sorts of human traditions that supplanted the teaching of God’s word.  Buy this indulgence and your sins will be forgiven!  Pray at this relic, and you’ll save yourself some time in purgatory.  Do these good deeds and God will reward your merit with even more grace.  They had a fine way of rejecting the commandment of God in order to establish man-made traditions.

I remember something wise a certain pastor once said, “Legalists are masters of the loophole”.  And it’s so true.  By setting up man-made laws, laws that perhaps we can actually fulfill and accomplish, we let ourselves off of the true, God-given law.  If I just do so-and-so, then I don’t have to face the full measure of God’s expectations for me.  I can convince myself that I’ve satisfied the requirements.  That I’ve done enough, and done good enough, to be counted righteous.

But the divine law is not so easily set aside or sabotaged.  You don’t  get to stop honoring your parents just because to did something nice for them once.  You don’t get to divorce your wife willy nilly because you signed the right paperwork according to Moses.  You don’t get to leave your neighbor to die in a ditch because it’s the Sabbath day and you aren’t supposed to do any work.

You don’t get to switch off the commandment because you think you’ve done enough good over here in this other area to balance the scales.  The commandments aren’t suggestions, nor do they have an expiration date, nor can they be funneled or bottled or minimized or excused away.  No matter how and how much we sinners try to undermine them, the commands of the law always stand.  The word of the Lord endures forever.

Love God with all your heart.  There’s a big one.  There’s a tough one.  For even if I thought I could approach such a thing (and that would be a self-delusion anyway), that little word gets you every time:  all.  All your heart.  Not just most or some or a majority of the time.  The law demands perfection.  It leaves no wiggle room, no matter how we try to tame it with human traditions.  And love your neighbor isn’t much easier to accomplish!

This is not to say that tradition is bad, mind you!  That would be to grossly misunderstand Jesus here.  Tradition simply means what is handed over to us, or handed down to us.  Much of that is very good!  Some of that, is the very Word of God itself!  And the traditions of the past, to the extent that they serve the word of God and keep it, to the extent that they help us gladly hear and learn the word of God, then they are good traditions.  But even the best of man-made traditions is not the Word of God itself.  

Look, there are good reasons to use hymnals and liturgies and organs and candles and robes.  There are beloved and helpful traditions in our religious life and walk that serve to point us to Christ in various ways.  But they do not save us!  And they cannot take the place of Christ, or of his word.  The traditions of man must never supplant the doctrine of God.

And what pride can come, even from our good traditions!  Here is a real danger for us at a church like this, as we make a flippant comment about a church with a rock band, or contemporary worship.  As we say things that make ourselves feel better and more righteous.  Beware!  Is it a valid criticism?  Is it true and kind and helpful?  Or is it just to stroke our own spiritual egos with a sense of self-righteousness?

Look, I’m as traditional as anyone.  I love our liturgy and so much of what we do and I can articulate pretty well why we do it.  And I think I could offer a robust critique of those churches who have left so many of these good traditions behind and turned aside to, well, other traditions, that are not as helpful, and might even be harmful.  

But we must always distinguish between the traditions of man, and the doctrine of God.  For the tradition of man does not save us.  But the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the power of God for salvation.  The traditions of man may be helpful, but they cannot assist us in keeping the law (at least not as we should).  And they cannot add a single bit to our salvation.  All that is already done in Christ.

Christ, who for his part, kept the law perfectly.  And not just the various laws of Moses, the ceremonies and customs of the Jews, but the law of God – the perfect, holy, will of God.  Jesus always loved God with all his heart.  He always loved his neighbor.  He never broke the law of God, any of the commandments, but always, always, fulfilled them perfectly.

And he, Jesus, gave the only sacrifice required.  Not some corban sacrifice to appease the traditions of man, but the perfect sacrifice of all time, to satisfy the justice of God.  Not to shirk his responsibilities to parents, but to make all who believe in him dear children of God.  

He was handed over, betrayed into the hands of men.  Handed over by the Jews to the Romans.  Handed over by Pilate to the will of the murderous mob.  Handed over to the soldiers who drove the nails, pressed the crown of thorns upon him, and hoisted his cross upright for all to see as he died for all.

If you want the perfect righteousness that comes from keeping the law, don’t think you can do it yourself.  Trust in Christ. Trust not in the traditions of men, as good and helpful as they might be.  Trust in Christ.  And don’t think that you can do some other good deed or outward work to fill in the gaps.  Trust in Christ.  Trust in the one who did it all for you.

Paul uses that language of “handed over” or “delivered” to point us to a blessed gift – Holy Communion.  

“For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread…” etc.

So let us come to the table today and receive the sacred tradition, the blessed handing-over, of Christ’s body and blood, in the bread and wine.  Paul received it from Christ, and the church has handed it down through the ages, and today it is handed over to us, distributed freely for repentant sinners to eat and drink and be forgiven.  Trust not in the traditions of man.  Trust in Christ, who hands himself over for you, and to you.  Amen.