Sermon - Easter Sunday - Colossians 3:1-4

Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed.  Alleluia!) 

Christ’s resurrection is our great joy this day.  There can be no better news, no more miraculous miracle, than Jesus Christ rising from the dead, just as he said he would!  With as little effort as getting out of bed in the morning, Jesus left death behind on this day, this day of victory, this day of glory.  Christ is risen!   

But as St. Paul tells us in Colossians 3, it’s not only Christ that has been raised.  You have been raised with Christ!  Easter is for you, too, Christian.  His resurrection is your resurrection!  His life is your life.  But... it is hidden. 

Now, if Christ’s resurrection was only for himself, well that would be nice, and all, but it wouldn’t really benefit us would it?  Sort of like if your favorite sports team wins the big game.  Sure, you cheer for them.  You feel like a part of it.  But it doesn’t do anything for you.  You don’t get any prize money.  You don’t get a special ring or trophy.  You maybe get the satisfaction of knowing your team won.  But it’s not much more than that. 

But you are connected to Christ in a much deeper way.  Easter is not the Super Bowl for Christians.  He’s not just your quarterback, or even your representative.  He’s not just the guy you cheer for.  He is your savior.  He is your substitute.  He is the Lamb of God, slain from the foundation of the world, God’s own son who was sent so that God’s love would be manifest to us.  His saving death and glorious resurrection are far more than just a story, even a great and wonderful true story with a happy ending.  These things change our entire reality and our eternal destiny.  They make all the difference in the world. 

For there is no greater problem for us than death, and the sin that causes it.  There is nothing more final, more dreadful, more hope-less than death.  And if death had the final word for us, how horrible would that be? 

And so Jesus has done his work, even faced death for us, even death on a cross, to take the sting of death away, and to destroy death’s power, to make death but a sleep from which we will one day rise in glory.  Death becomes a fangless beast that can only gum us in its harmless maws.  It holds no terror for those who are in Christ.  It is a rest, a rest in peace, a brief stint of the soul in paradise and the body in the grave.  But it will give way to life, and that life will have no end. 

Christ’s easter, Christ’s resurrection is the preview.  It is the spoiler.  It is the down payment on the grand prize that is on its way.  But as Paul writes to the Colossians, that life is hidden. 

We can’t see it just yet, at least not without the eyes of faith.  We wait in hope, clinging to the promise.  Knowing for certain that the Christ who predicted his own death and resurrection is absolutely reliable and always delivers.  If he can conquer death for himself, he can do it for you, too, dear Christian.  And in the most important part, he already has. 

You are baptized.  And it is there and then that you died and rose with Christ.  Buried with him in baptism, and also raised with Christ in baptism.  Coming out of those waters was the new creation, the new man he has made you to be.  But it is hidden.  You don’t look any different.  You don’t feel any different.  You don’t have any baptismal super-powers or a nice little halo to show everyone you’re a Christian now.   

But you do have the name of God upon your brow as a seal.  You do have the promise of Jesus that your sins are forgiven.  You have the word of God spoken to you, then, and again, and again and again.  And that word does not fail. 

One day, when Christ appears, that is, when he comes again in glory, then our life will also appear.  It will be visible, for all to see.  As Job writes, “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth, and in my flesh I will see God with my own eyes”.  It is on that day that your Baptismal life is no longer hidden.  Your body will rise just as surely as Christ did.  You will be glorified as he is glorified.  And you will live forever with him who is your very life. 

Until then... what?  We wait.  We wait in faith and hope and trust.  We celebrate his Easter and look forward to our own.  We fix our eyes of faith on the certainty of things unseen.  Or, as Paul says,  “Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth.” 

Death is a thing of this earth.  Don’t set your mind there.  Don’t let death consume your thoughts.  But rather, set your mind on the things above, the promise of life eternal in Christ.  Let your thoughts and hearts be captive to the Word of God, and dwell on his promises and blessings. 

Live the daily struggle of a Christian, always turning, repenting, of the things of this world.  Always turning, and trusting, in the promises of the next.  Each Sunday, each day, a little Easter in which we die and rise again anew, returning to those baptismal waters and baptismal promises. 

And find your life in Christ.  For he is your life.  Apart from him there is only death and grave and sorrow and despair.  The things of this earth.  But with him, there are only things above.  Heavenly things.  Blessings.  Life.  Forgiveness.  Freedom.  Love.  And eternity with God in glory. 

Hear once more the simple, the powerful, the hopeful and joyous words of St. Paul this Easter Sunday: 

Colossians 3:1–4  

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. 

And rejoice, dear Christians, for Christ is risen! 

Sermon - Maundy Thursday - Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot

In this Lenten Season, our midweek sermons have focused on the 12 Apostles of Jesus Christ.  We have only the two left to look at tonight, Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot.  So let’s get to it. 

Little is known of Simon the Zealot, also, except that he was, of course, a “zealot”.  The gospels call him “the Zealot” to distinguish him from the other Simon – Simon Peter. 

Simon is called "Zelotes" in Luke and Acts.    

Now, if you read the lists of apostles in Matthew and Mark, you will see this Simon called the “Canaanite” or “Cananean”.  This, however, likely doesn’t mean he was an ethnic Canaanite. Although some do believe it meant he was from the town of Cana in Galilee. But most scholars agree that the word behind it “Kananaios” is another Greek term for “Zealot”. 

For these reasons, it is generally assumed that Simon was a former member of the Jewish political party, the Zealots. So who were they?  They were a group of Jews who most fiercely opposed the Roman occupation, and would, at times even take matters into their own hands to work toward freedom from Rome.   

Even today, we use the term “Zealot”, to describe a religious extremist.  We’ve heard some of our own leaders describing the Mullahs of Iran as “zealots”. Someone who believes something so strongly, they will go to great lengths, even do outrageous and extraordinary things to serve their cause.   

Obviously, this ideology is incompatible with Christ’s teaching and so it is understood that Simon must have been a “former zealot”.  All human ideologies must give way to the teachings of Christ, the word of God, our only infallible source of truth in this fallen world.  Jesus didn’t come to destroy the Romans, or to bring down any particular earthly government.  Jesus came, rather, to destroy sin and death.   

But what about zeal, in and of itself?  Zeal as a concept? Recall Psalm 69:9 “zeal for your house will consume me” as quoted from the temple cleansing in John 2.  Jesus was zealous, a zealot of a particular sort.  Christ’s zeal for the Lord’s house was more than just fussiness about what happened in the temple, but rather his overall commitment to his mission as Savior.  Jesus was a zealot in the best way. 

But your zeal - for your politics or your football team, or for whatever, might not be so great, especially if it gets in the way of your zeal for the Lord’s house.  Especially if it becomes a first commandment issue, an opportunity to have a false god.  So must we always test ourselves, guard ourselves, and limit our zeal for anything but those to which God calls us:  Love for him, and love for one another.  

Like James, son of Alphaeus and Jude, we know little about Simon.  He is given just mention in the list of apostles.  But the inclusion of his zealotry also reminds us that Jesus calls disciples from all walks of life, zealots along with fishermen, tax collectors, physicians and pharisees.  There is a diversity of backgrounds and stories, each one unique but all are one in Christ and bring our baggage of sinful past to the foot of the same cross.  So bring also your zeal to Jesus, that he may redeem it. 

And finally we come to Judas Iscariot, the betrayer.  Listed last not because he is little known but because he is infamous.  He is notorious, and amongst the apostles, in a category by himself. 

The thirty pieces of silver, the arrest in Gethsemane, the bitter irony of betrayal with a kiss.  Judas’ very name is synonymous even today with betrayal and treachery, even outside of Christian circles.  It is appropriate to recall the sad story of Judas on this Holy Thursday, in which his betrayal of Jesus was complete. 

While many theories have been put forward for Judas’ motivation, Scripture is silent on the matter.  One popular theory is that he sympathized with the zealots, and wanted to “force Jesus’ hand” into beginning his military conquest.  But when he saw that Jesus was to be crucified only then realized his plan would fail. 

"Iscariot", it is suggested by some, might even derive from the Latin sicarius, a term for Zealots who used hidden daggers for assassinations.  So you could then call him “Judas the dagger-man" or “Judas the backstabber”.   

And if this theory is true, then he stands in stark contrast to Simon the Zealot, who gave up his zealotry and followed Christ.  There instead was Judas, whose cause drove him to a twisted zealotry that betrayed even the sinless Son of God. 

Alternately, and perhaps this is the simplest explanation, is that Judas was just greedy and a thief (which we know he was from John 12:6), "He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief, and since he had the money box, he used to pilfer what was put into it"  I actually favor this theory. 

But the fact that Scripture doesn’t explain might be significant, too.  More telling than his motivation is what Judas did or didn’t do with his sin and guilt.   

Here, Judas is often contrasted with Peter, who denied Jesus but wept bitterly in contrition, and was later restored by Jesus. Judas rather turned to despair and self-destruction.  He tried to take it all back, but he couldn’t.  He tried to make up for his sin, but he couldn’t. And so, he hung himself in despair, when he saw the destruction his betrayal brought on Jesus.  

Judas stands as a warning for us, then, too.  You also cannot make up for your sins.  And every sin, dear Christian, is a betrayal of Jesus, isn’t it?  We don’t look to Judas with pride, thinking ourselves better than he was.  Rather, we say with Paul, “I, too, am a chief of sinners.  I, too, need rescue from this body of death.  I need the forgiveness and mercy of Christ as much as anyone.” 

Simon the Zealot left his former life and repented, turning to Christ in faith – which he held even unto death.  Judas the betrayer continued in his sins which led not to repentance, but to despair and to death – first to Christ’s death, but sadly also his own.   

And one more little note about Judas, especially on this Maundy Thursday.  It was at the Last Supper that Jesus told the disciples one of them would betray him.  And Jesus made it clear, he knew it was Judas.  He showed John with the sign - “he who dips his bread in the bowl with me”.  What a mystery!  That Jesus knows and even uses the evil of a betrayer to facilitate his own handing over unto death.   

But there’s a lesson here, for the disciples and for us, too.  It may have seemed like Judas’ betrayal was a surprise, something that Jesus didn’t intend and was out of his control or knowledge.  But yet even this evil, he worked for good.  So, too, also, God works for us in all things – for the good of those who love him.  He even works evil things for his own good purposes.  Just look at the cross itself.  God uses the most horrible thing we can imagine – the torturous death of his dear, innocent son, for the good and the life of the world.  To bring sin and death to their end.  Thanks be to God.  And may we trust him to work even through the betrayals and calamities of our own lives, for his good and gracious purposes never fail. 

And finally, tonight, we commemorate the institution of the Lord’s Supper.  As Jesus gives us the morsel of bread with a little bit of wine, it is not for our judgment, but to redeem our betrayal.  It is his true body and blood that promise forgiveness, life and salvation, and inspire in us a zeal – a fervent desire to live for him and in love for others.  May God grant it to us, for Jesus’ sake.  Amen. 

Sermon - Midweek Lent 5 - James and Jude

So far we’ve examined 8 of the 12 apostles.  Most of them, and their stories, have been somewhat familiar to us.  But tonight we come to two of the lesser-known, and less-mentioned apostles:  James the Son of Alphaeus, and Jude, also known as Thaddeus. 

James the Son of Alphaeus or “James the less” he is sometimes called.  That is to say, he is not to be confused with James the Son of Zebedee..  This James appears only four times in the New Testament, each time in a list of the twelve apostles. 

Now, there’s long been some debate about whether he is the same person as “James the Brother of Jesus”, and that is tied up in a discussion that leads us to the question of the perpetual virginity of Mary.  The Gospels are somewhat ambiguous at times about which James they refer to, what exactly are the familial relationships (and then there’s the whole matter about whether “brother” can mean “cousin”)  Add to the confusion a number of women named Mary.  It’s quite a mess, honestly, and I’m not sure it’s worth our time sorting out, especially in a midweek sermon. 

LSB follows the tradition of observing Sts. Philip and James (Son of Alphaeus) together on May 1st.   Their day is traditionally shared because of a historical event. Their bodies were moved, together, from Jerusalem to Rome around 560 AD.  This supposes him to be James, the brother of Jesus, and also the author of the epistle of James.   

There is also, therefore, a stanza for the two in LSB hymn 518 “By All Your Saints in Warfare” (v. 16), and then also one for “St. James of Jerusalem” (Christ’s brother) (v.27). 

And then there’s Jude, also known as Thaddeus.   

Here, too, there’s some ambiguity or difficulty with his identity.  He is sometimes identified with Jude, the brother of Jesus, but is always clearly distinguished from Judas Iscariot, the disciple who betrayed Jesus prior to his crucifixion. Catholic writer Michal Hunt suggests that Judas Thaddaeus became known as Jude after early translators of the New Testament from Greek into English sought to distinguish him from Judas Iscariot and subsequently abbreviated his forename. Most versions of the New Testament in languages other than English and French refer to Judas and Jude by the same name. 

Jude is paired with Simon (the Zealot) on the Feast of St. Simon and St. Jude, October 28th.  LSB 518 v. 28 follows this.  Tradition has them sharing a mission in Mesopotamia and Persia and also being martyred together. 

So, Judas, but “not THAT Judas!”  James, but “not THAT James!”  The KJV has for John 14:22, “Judas saith unto him, not Iscariot, Lord, how is it that thou wilt manifest thyself unto us, and not unto the world?” And this lone question is really all we have of Jude.  Not much to go on. 

So now that we’ve covered the scant information we have about these two apostles, and the difficult questions concerning even who they are, what do we make of it for our sermon series?  What does God’s word wish to teach us about these men, and how might we apply it to ourselves? 

Well let’s start with Jude’s question from John 14, and include also Jesus’ answer: 

22 Judas (not Iscariot) said to him, “Lord, how is it that you will manifest yourself to us, and not to the world?” 23 Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. 24 Whoever does not love me does not keep my words. And the word that you hear is not mine but the Father's who sent me. 

Jesus emphasizes to Jude, to the apostles, and to us, that keeping his word is paramount.  It is what sets us apart as the people of God.  It is what shows our love for Jesus, that love that first loved us, and that love that he also shares with the Father and that the Father has for us.  It is by his word that he manifests himself to us, and to the world. 

And by keeping this word, the promise is that Christ and the Father will both make their home with us.  We are part of the household of God, the family of faith.  The bond Jesus has with the Father is extended to each of us, by his word of promise. 

The Triune Name is upon us in our baptism, and by it we are assured that God knows our name, each of us.  He brings us into relationship with himself, no matter our relation to others.   

You may feel unknown to the world, unknown to all, even to your own family.  But God knows you, even the hairs on your head are numbered.  He has called you by name; you belong to him. 

So the lack of information about two of the more obscure apostles really doesn’t matter.  What matters is they were known to Christ, loved by Christ, and had an eternal future in Christ.  So also for us.   

 
All of this is put rather beautifully in one of our hymns, one we don’t sing that often, but I want to highlight its lyrics for you.  “We Sing for All the Unsung Saints” 

 

 

We sing for all the unsung saints, that countless, nameless throng 

Who kept the faith and passed it one with hope steadfast and strong 

Through all the daily griefs and joys no chronicles record 

Forgetful of their lack of fame, but mindful of their Lord. 

 

Though uninscribed with date or place, with title rank or name, 

As living stones their stories join to form a hallowed frame 

Around the mystery in their midst, the Lamb once sacrificed 

The Love that wrested life from death, the wounded, risen Christ. 

 

So we take heart from unknown saints bereft of earthly fame, 

Those faithful ones who have received a more enduring name. 

For they reveal true blessing comes when we our pride efface 

And offer back our lives to be the vessels of God’s grace.