Sermon - Pentecost 24 - Matthew 25:14-30

Entrusted and Trusting

Matthew 25:14-30

You know I've heard a sermon or two that just gets this parable all wrong. Of course, it's another parable about the end times and the judgment day, when the Master comes to settle accounts with his servants. But the way I've heard it preached is this: God gives us each talents and abilities and resources – and one day he'll come back and settle accounts! So you better be a good steward of what he's given you – or else! It's just a longer version of the cheeky bumper sticker that reads, “Jesus is coming soon – look busy!” As if the point of it all is what we do, how we do it, really, our good works or lack thereof. That's not what Jesus teaches. That's not what this parable is about.

One of the things we can look for when we study the parables is what a favorite commentator of mine called “cracks in the realism”. These are the little things about Jesus' stories that are a just a little bit “off”. A son asks for an early inheritance, and his father gives it to him. And you might say, “well that would never happen”. The tenants of a vineyard think they can get away with murdering the master's own son. A Samaritan turns out to be the hero of the story. Things like this.

Well with this parable – the Parable of the Talents, as it is called - there's nothing unusual about a master having servants. There's nothing odd about him giving them duties, or even management of various tasks or assets. But what is really strange here is that he would line them up and entrust them with large amounts of money – and then promptly go away without so much as an explanation! This would be like your boss at work depositing millions of dollars into your account and then going on a year-long vacation without telling you.

For the master to do such a thing – to entrust his servants with so much, for no apparent reason, with no talk of their qualifications or merits or credit history – it's not something you see in everyday reality. Some would say it borders on the insane. Others, Christians, might call it something else – grace.

One definition of grace is the “undeserved love of God”, especially in Jesus Christ. And we thank God that he has redeemed us freely, not by gold or silver, but with Christ's holy precious blood, and his innocent suffering and death. All this by grace. Even his physical blessings of earthly life he gives us out of undeserved love – your house and home, land, animals and all you have, your reason and senses, eyes, ears, all your members – all this he does only out of fatherly, divine, goodness and mercy – totally undeserved – no merit or worthiness in me. Even the Spirit works by grace, calling us to faith – though I believe that I cannot, by my own reason or strength, believe in Jesus. Bottom line, you have nothing, but God gives you everything.

So how does one “invest” the talents? How do we rightly use these gifts given to us, which we in no wise deserve? Well, it depends on the gift:

His highest gifts to us – the Word, the Sacraments – we use rightly, and invest profitably, by simply receiving them. Regular worship, gathering with the other recipients of these treasures, hearing the word by which faith comes and by which faith is strengthened. Receiving the absolution from the pastor, as good as if Christ himself said the words – and thereby receiving the forgiveness of your sins.

Last week, we heard how the bridegroom came suddenly and caught the foolish virgins off guard and unprepared. And I briefly mentioned that to be prepared for his coming was simply to faithfully receive the gifts of word and sacrament that are really the oil of the wise virgins. Likewise, this parable also teaches us that we will be well prepared for his coming when we have invested the gifts – that is, used them profitably – to our own salvation. None of this is Christian rocket science. It's simply receiving what God gives us with thanksgiving. It's doing what he wants us to do – be saved.

But having said all of that, there remains yet further application. For the gifts God gives to his people are overflowing. They are not just spiritual. They are also physical, worldly, tangible. He does give you talents – not the monetary denomination of the ancients – but the skills and abilities and inclinations that are unique to each of you. He does give you time – a resource that is far too often wasted by us, but must be managed like anything else. And he does give you treasures – earthly gifts, money, possessions, inheritance, and all the “things” of life. We are caretakers of all of these – none belong to us alone, or even ultimately.

And God would have us use them well. Not to earn salvation – for that has already been given us. Not to prove our salvation – for that is already assured in Christ. Rather, faithful and godly management of his good gifts is simply what his people, born again as new creations in Christ, it's just what we do. We do it out of thankfulness, humility, and a love for our neighbor. We do it to advance the Gospel itself, so that all may hear the good news of Jesus and be saved.

The bad servant in the parable – you know, by some measures, he might not be seen to have done anything wrong in this parable. After all, he didn't squander the talent. He didn't go spend it on himself, or lose it at the casino. He kept it secret and kept it safe. What really set him apart from the others, though, happened before the final accounting.

When the master entrusted his gifts to the servants, this servant didn't trust the master. He knew him to be a hard man. He operated out of fear of the master. He showed a lack, in our terms, of faith. And so he got the kind of master he expected in the end – an angry judge who cast him out for his wickedness.

Rather, the servants who trusted the master – they were free of fear. They didn't sit on the talents, but put them to work. Not because of anything special about them, but because they knew the master to be a generous man, a kind master. A man of grace.

And that makes all the difference in the world.

Just think about this kind master you have, this benevolent king. He has given you riches beyond all telling. He has spared nothing for you, not even his only begotten Son. The bright jewel of his crown. He sent Jesus to us – the purest and greatest gift to all mankind.

And Christ did all things well, for us. He fulfilled the scriptures, the law, and all that the Father asked of him. He defeated the temptations of Satan. He taught the truth which sets us free. He had compassion on many, and upon us. He offered us all blessings, even his own body and blood. And finally he gave up his life as a sacrifice in our place, his blood for ours, our punishment for his, and by his stripes we are healed.

None of this you earned. None of this you deserved. It is far more than you could hope for or imagine. But the master gives even himself to you, and comes to you now in his word and sacraments.

All this, entrusted to you, tells you what kind of master you have. A loving, kind, merciful, generous master. A Lord who delights in giving good things to his children, far more than any earthly father could. He does so, not to make profit, not to test your worthiness, but simply because he loves you.

And now, with all of that in mind, and only now can we ask the question, “how ought we treat these good gifts?”. Bury them? Ignore them? Rest on our laurels in a false sense of self-righteousness? No. But make the most of the gifts he has given you. Hear the word. Remember your baptism. Come, take and eat, take and drink. Be the Christian he has made you to be. Not by exertion of effort, but by trusting the one who has entrusted it all to you. Look to Jesus, not yourself. And the blessings will abound.

And fulfill your vocation, whatever it is, however many you have. For he has entrusted you with a spouse, with children, grandchildren, with work, with an office, with neighbors, and all manner of opportunities to love them. And his love for you will bear dividends in your love for others, and in your faithfulness in your callings.

The reward is great – faithful in little, set over much. So be faithful. Trust in the master, and make use of his gifts. Looking to yourself is only burying the gift. But look to Christ and receive even more blessings.

In Jesus Name. Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 23 - 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

“Encouraging Words about the End”

History has an end. The Greek word the New Testament uses for it is “Telos”. There will be a last day, this is very clear in Holy Scripture. The universe will not go on, at least not like this, forever. There is a day, somewhere in the future, that God has planned, in which Christ will come again to earth, and bring all things to fulfillment. It is now, in November, near the end of the church calendar year, that we Christians especially think about the end time, and the Last Day.

Like many people today, the ancient Christians in the city of Thessalonica had questions and worries about that day. They had some misconceptions too. So St. Paul writes to them, to clear up the picture, to explain why that day is a good day for us Christians – to give them hope. “Encourage each other with these words” he says. And so Christians have encouraged each other with those words throughout the ages, and so today shall we.

Perhaps it's worth reviewing some basic teachings about the end. One thing we can be certain of, is we are living in the end times. These are the last days. So many of the signs of the end are all around us, ever more all the time. Natural disasters like the Hurricanes that plagued us this year. Violence like the church shooting this past week.

So much of the book of Revelation depicts the calamities and troubles that are not only to come, but that we experience in various ways all the time. Christians are persecuted. We are as lambs led to the slaughter. Nations rage, kingdoms fall. Wars and rumors of wars, as Jesus tells it. Paul uses the analogy of a woman in childbirth – that the creation itself is groaning in labor pains – but that is all moving toward a telos – an endpoint, a conclusion.

Then there is the last day. It will come suddenly, when we least expect it. Passages like our Gospel reading from Matthew encourage us to be watchful as we look for it to arrive at any time. Jesus says he will come “like a thief in the night”, that is, suddenly, and not when you think he might. How many date-setters have already gotten it wrong? Well so far, all of them. No one knows the day or the hour.

Many passages, like our Old Testament reading from Amos, paint the day of the Lord as something great and terrible – a fearful day in which God's judgment is poured out. But Amos was speaking to people who had forsaken God for pagan worship. There was an earthly judgment to come in the form of the Assyrian empire. But Amos also spoke of the final judgment it foreshadowed. Surely for the unbeliever, the judgment day will be fearful and terrible.

But for the believer, it's quite the opposite. 1 Thessalonians tells us that it will be a good day – a great day – that should give us hope. So put aside your fears, and hear what God promises about Christ's appearing – and what it will mean for us, his people.

“we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep”

The Thessalonians full well expected Christ to return within their earthly lifetime. And they became concerned when faithful Christians began to die – wondering if there would be a difference between the living and the dead – that somehow their dead loved ones would miss out on the glory of Christ's return. This became a source of grief for them. But Paul says not to grieve like others who have no hope. Christ gives them hope.

In Corinthians, Paul explains, “we will not all sleep”, that is, not every Christian will die before that day. Some will live to see it. But those of us that do will be in the same boat as those of us who have already died. The dead will be raised. And we will all be changed, glorified, and we will all meet Christ together.

The dead will rise. Here's an important promise that gets short shrift these days. We're so accustomed of thinking that we Christians die and go to heaven (and yes, we do), that we forget the final fulfillment of God's plan is that we would rise from the dead. Just like Jesus, whose physical, earthly, human body rose from the dead – so too will our bodies be brought back to life – to live forever with God. Those who die in the faith – while their body “sleeps”, their soul is surely with the Lord and at peace. But at the resurrection soul and body reunite to live in eternal glory.

We will be changed – made “incorruptible”, Paul says. Glorified. We will be like Christ, in his glorified body. We don't know exactly what that means – it hasn't been fully revealed yet. But it sounds good, doesn't it? A physical body that is free of the corruption of sin? No more aches and pains. No more disease or handicap. A body free forever from the effects of the sin which has corrupted us. A body and soul as God intended them to be – perfect and holy.

Together, we will rise not only from death but into the air to meet him. Reminds me of the way Christ ascended into the clouds, after his resurrection, in his own glorified body.

And the promises continue. For there, we will meet Christ and each other, and we will be always with the Lord. What a blessing it will be to see with our own eyes, in our own flesh, what we have known by faith already. As we said last week, being in the presence of the Lord is what makes heaven so heavenly, and we will enjoy it forever, body and soul, with our Lord.

What about all the fire and brimstone? What about the judgment day? What about the locusts and horsemen? What about the lake of fire and answering for all your sins? What about the picture Amos paints of a great and terrible day?

Well Jesus faced that day himself, already. On that dark Friday in Jerusalem, when he hung on a cross for our sins. The sun blotted out. The earth shook. Even some of the graves of holy people opened up and they came forth. These signs show us a connection between Good Friday and the signs of the judgment day.

And Jesus endured the wrath of God's judgment so that our last day would be a day of peace. He took the punishment so we would stand before God free of guilt. He died for us to live – not just spiritually, but also physically – just as he rose, firstborn of the dead triumphant over the grave.

And because of that day of sacrifice, and that day of resurrection, we have a resurrection of our own – a promise yet unpaid but not forgotten. A day of final victory. This is why his resurrection is such a lynch-pin for our faith. Because only in his resurrection do we have the promise of resurrection. Only in him do we escape the judgment of eternal death, and receive the judgment to eternal life.

That doesn't mean that no earthly suffering will come to us. That doesn't mean that the devil, the world, and our own sinful flesh stop working overtime to make us doubt and tempt us and make us as miserable as possible. They can't win the war, but they'll kick and scream trying to win as many battles as they can. Persecutions are sure to come. Many will hate us for Christ's sake. Jesus doesn't sugar-coat these truths either. We're still in the flesh, here, and so those battles rage.

But he who makes wars to cease, who breaks the bow and shatters the spear – he's our mighty fortress and champion in the fight. And we can hear, in his word, the distant triumph song. He will come again, and soon.

So watch and be ready for his coming. Hear his word, frequently and faithfully. Remember your baptism, where he first raised you from death to new spiritual life. And receive his body and blood – often – for the forgiveness that sustains us each day, keeping us strong and vibrant in a faith that is always ready for its fulfillment.

Live your life in the faith that he has given you, trusting in his mercy and grace. And die your death in a peace that knows the promise of victory, and rest in peace, for the trumpet will sound, the archangel will shout, and Christ will return for his people. And we will be with him forever. This is our hope. This is his promise. These are the encouraging words, that point us to the blessed end. In Jesus Christ. Amen.

Sermon - All Saints' Day (Observed)

What will Heaven be like?
All Saints' Day - November 5, 2017
Revelation 7, 1 John 3, Matthew 5

It's a simple enough question, “What will heaven be like?”  It's often asked by a child.  But worth asking, since all of us hope to be there someday. 

Our readings on this All Saints Day give us a chance to ponder that question and answer it, as best we can. 

1. What we know, we know from Scripture
We ought not look to Hollywood for our definitions and descriptions of the afterlife, either good or bad.  Nor ought we defer to our culture, which paints a picture much the same.  Many people believe in a heaven of some kind, perhaps most people in our world – far more than believe in a place called Hell.  Which may illustrate how shaky people's understanding of the topic can be.

Even we Christians may be especially tempted to imagine a heaven of our own design or creation – if you're a golfer, you might want to think of it as a perfect golf course you can play every day for free.  Or if you're a foodie, you might picture it as a giant Sam's Club on a Saturday with unlimited free samples of all your favorites. 

What an odd place heaven would be if it was simply everyone's greatest desires – a rock concert over here, country music over there.  A hunter runs through chasing a big buck while the Cubs win every world series.  And of course, all dogs get to go there, too.

Rather than looking to the world, or to our own imagined heaven, the Christian lets Scripture tell the tale.  We can imagine all we want, but that doesn't make it so.  Like all our doctrine and teaching, we must turn to Scripture to clue us in.  And some of that picture is painted in our readings for this All Saints Day.

2. We don't know that much
Perhaps it's worth noting, however, from the outset – that Scripture tells us precious little about the world to come.  We are given hints and glimmers, pictures that give a sense of it but are far from answering every question.  We know some popular myths are just wrong – for instance we don't become angels when we die.  But many of us are like that curious child, wanting to know more.  And that's maybe not a bad urge in itself.  We ought to yearn for our eternal home.  This veil of tears is filled with troubles and misery, temptation and sin.  We ought to look forward to that horizon.  Like St. Paul, we recognize, it will be far better to be at home with the Lord than here in our mortal bodies. 

And so we take comfort in what little Scripture does teach us about this place we call heaven:

3. We know we don't deserve it.  But Christ promises it.
One thing we know for sure is that we don't deserve it.  Our sinful nature and our sinful actions and inactions have made us worthy of a far different fate – temporal and eternal punishment is what our sins deserve.  Were it not for God's great mercy he would have been there already, long ago.  By rights God could wipe us out just like he did to the wicked world before the flood.  But he is patient.  He is merciful.  And he would not see the sinner perish, but desires all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.  He wants you to have life, and have it abundantly, with him, forever. 

Which is why he sent his Son, Jesus Christ, the Lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world.  The Lamb at the center of the throne around whom all the saints gather.  The Lamb, by whose blood, their sinful robes are washed white and clean.  It is because of Jesus, and Jesus alone that anyone receives the blessings and promises of heaven.  Christ crucified, dead, risen and ascended again will bring you there.

4. What we do know is good, even great!
We speak of heaven in really two senses.  When we say “heaven”, we often mean where the dead in Christ reside now – with God.  Paradise, Abraham's Bosom, or simply “being with the Lord”. 

And here's what we know about that:  The dead in Christ now rest in peace.  They are with him.  And it is good.

Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, for they rest from their labors. (Rev. 14:13)

Jesus told the thief on the cross, “Today you will be with me in Paradise”  Not tomorrow or someday down the road.  Today, that is, as soon as you die.  Those who die in the faith are with the Lord.  Stephen, the first martyr, confessed the same with his dying prayer, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit" (Acts 7:59)

Jesus also hints at this reality with story of Lazarus in “Abraham's Bosom” - both of whom were contrasted with the agony of the rich man who died in unbelief.

Today we give thanks for our loved ones and those Christians who have gone before us into the paradise of God's presence, into the rest and peace that is Heaven.  They are away from the body, but they are with the Lord. And that makes everything ok.  But as they say at the end of commercials, “But wait... there's more”

There is something else, heaven in the final sense – that kingdom of glory that begins on the last day.  This eternal life, lived in the new heaven and new earth, this is really the final and best hope of God's people.

Or another has said there are various “modes” of eternal life.  Eternal life – that life we have now, even already, beginning at our baptism.  Then there is the eternal life of the Spirit that rests secure with God, but away from the body, awaiting the judgment day.  Then there is the eternal life in the kingdom to come, life in the resurrection – in the body – which is the final promise to and hope of the children of God.

Paul makes it clear, especially in 1 Corinthians 15, the great resurrection chapter of the Bible, that we too will rise, bodily, at the last day.  Jesus is the Firstborn of the Dead, but that title itself shows that others will follow.  “For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will also certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.”  Romans 6:5

When will this happen?  At his second coming.  Paul says the dead in Christ will rise, and we who are still living will be changed in the twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet.

At his appearing – we will change, be like him (1 John 3:1-3)

And this gives a clue what the heaven of the resurrection might be like.  How will it be to live in resurrected, glorified bodies?  We have a clue, perhaps, by looking at Jesus' glorified, resurrected body. 

On that day, at the fulfillment of all things, The Beatitudes will become visible (Matthew 5).  The blessed mourners comforted, the blessed meek shall inherit the earth.  All the saints, in our final glory, will be blessed forevermore.

Jesus has gone to prepare a place for you, will come back (John 14:1-6)

And the picture of the multitude robed in white reminds us that in that glorious day, God's people will all be there.  A great multitude no one can count from every nation and tribe and people and language.  A joyful reunion with our God and with one another.  There will be endless, perfect, joyful worship of God.  A perfect communion of all the company of heaven.

Revelation paints a picture of bliss:

15 “Therefore they are before the throne of God,
and serve him day and night in his temple;
and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence.
16 They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
the sun shall not strike them,
nor any scorching heat.
17 For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Later, John's vision depicts the church in glory as heavenly Jerusalem.  There she is described in terms that evoke the paradise of Eden restored.  For in Eden there was were rivers, a garden and the Tree of Life.  Now in glory we see the River of life, the Tree of Life reappearing.  The curse is removed. Paradise is restored, and all is well.

Here today we have a glimpse of that heavenly feast, a foretaste.  Here as we gather around Christ, enthroned in simple bread and wine, we gather with just a small portion of that final heavenly multitude.  But in a way, we also commune with those at rest in Christ, and with all the Christian faithful who will one day visibly gather with us around the heavenly throne.  Here, at the Lord's altar, then, is about as close as you can get to heaven-on-earth.  For here you are united with Christ and his people in a holy and precious way.  Here, heaven and earth are in a way united, in Christ, for you. Here, today, is the communion of saints.
Heaven is for real, but it's not the heaven of mere imagination.  It's the eternal bliss that God has prepared for his children, those redeemed in his Son Jesus Christ.  It's the joy of his presence when we die, and it is the glory of a resurrection and life from the last day forward.  Like all of God's blessings, a pure and free gift won for us in Jesus Christ.  Remain in him, and you will abide to the end, even to heaven.  Amen.

Sermon - Higher Things Retreat - Faith, Plano

Romans 10:5-17
Matthew 14:22-33

You've gotta love Peter.  He's the best.  And he's the worst.  He's the one bold enough to step forward and answer, “but who do YOU say that I am?”.  But he's also the one dumb enough to try and talk Jesus out of going to die on the cross, so he gets the “get behind me Satan!”.  He's the one to open his yap on the mount of transfiguration, “hey guys, let's build some tents and camp out a while here”, but he had no idea what he was saying.  At one point he seems ready to die for Jesus if necessary, but a little later he's denying Jesus because he is questioned by a little girl, and he runs out crying like a little baby.  Of course all his bright shining moments are really by faith, and that's a gift from God.  And all of his failures are on him.  But he's just like you and me that way.

These Bible stories aren't just about the apostles, and they aren't just about Peter.  These are about you, too.  You have your ups and downs.  You have your good days and bad.  You have your own sin and struggles, and you have the same Savior. 

Peter has his ups and downs, you see, and that's true even here, walking on the water. 

At first, it appears he's just scared to death, along with the other disciples, because, well it wasn't every day you see a guy taking a midnight stroll on TOP OF THE WATER.  They were a superstitious bunch, even back then, and so they cried out “It's a ghost!”  They must have thought they were doomed.  They must have thought some evil spirit had come to sink their boat and they would die at sea.  But it was not a ghost.  It was Jesus.  And he calmed their fears.  “Take heart, it is I!”

This is the first miracle.  Jesus comes when no one else can.  He comes like no one else can.  He comes in a way that we don't expect – not only above and beyond nature and our experience – but what is most amazing here is not that Jesus was walking on water.  What is most amazing here is that the just and holy God of the universe would become flesh, and associate with sinners, have anything to do with them at all - but speak kindly to them, even love them, when by rights he could have come in just wrath to wipe them out of existence. 

But nevertheless, here's a sign, a wonder, that Jesus does, as yet another calling card that he is, in fact, the Messiah. 

And what gets into Peter that he wants to put Jesus to the test.? If it's you?  Who else could it be?  But here we go again, with Peter, and he says “Ok, Jesus, invite me out for a stroll”.  And so he does.  And so he does.  Kids, do not try this at home.

Hey at first it's going great – Peter is walking – things are cool.  But then the trouble comes.  And hasn't this happened to you?  Not the walking on the water part, but that things seem to be going great, great in your life, great with God.  And then oh, look, there's the wind and wave.  Oh look, there's that favorite temptation of mine again.  Oh, I've broken this commandment, that one, the other one.  I don't feel so Christian anymore.  I don't know if I'm so good with God anymore.  And the more you think the more you sink, and the more you sink the more it stinks and you start to worry or panic or fear all over again.

At that point, when you're downing, this is where Peter sets the good example.  He cries out to Jesus.  “Lord, save me!”  The world thinks Peter is so great and noteworthy because he had the faith to step out of the boat.  But where faith really counts is when you are sinking to the depths and everything's closing in on you, and you're drowning in your sins, and faith cries out, “Lord, save me!”.

And Jesus does it.  Immediately.  When no one else can.  He reaches down and pulls him up, no fuss, no muss, no questions asked.  He doesn't put Peter through a thorough examination or make him prove he's really sorry about all this.  He doesn't require a bunch of penance or compensation, or ask Peter if he really, truly, deeply means it.  There's no time for that.  There's never time for that, when you're Jesus.  He's just there to save, to forgive, to snatch you out of the jaws of sin and death and to bring you into the safety of his strong arms.

In fact that's what Jesus is all about.  That's his thing, reaching down to save you.  Reaching down, from heaven, by even becoming a man.  Coming down in great humility, to live in the muck of this world with us.  But even more.  To submit to being taken down into death, by being lifted up on the cross, and buried down the hill in that borrowed grave.  All of that, is his big, strong arm reaching down to pull you and every other sinner out from the depths.  And as he emerges from death safe and sound and even glorified, so to you will follow in his footsteps – walking not on water, but walking all over death itself.  He saves you.  He's all about saving you.

He does so – for you – when you confess your sins (that's the “Lord, save me!”) and the Pastor forgives your sins in Jesus' name (that's the hand that pulls you back up).  He does so when you hear the Gospel proclaimed – faith comes by hearing.  He reaches down into your dark, cold heart where you feel like you're drowning and dying – and he changes things.  He daily drowns that old Adam and brings the New man to life – out of the water – by the water of your Baptism.  Splish, splash, forgiven yet again.

And so as they climb back into the boat, and this strange little event is over, Jesus says to Peter, “you of little faith, why did you doubt?”  It's not a stern lecture but a gentle rebuke.  The kind of kind chiding by which Jesus corrects and encourages.  Hey, you can trust me, don't you see?  You can always believe in me, why would you doubt that?  My friends, you can always trust Jesus.  You can always cry out, “Lord save me”.  And he will.  That's what he does.  In Jesus' Name.  Amen.