Sermon - Epiphany 7 - Luke 6:27-38

“Loving and Judging”
Luke 6:27-38

Last week we heard the beginning of Jesus' famous “Sermon on the Plain”.  Similar to the Sermon on the Mount, from Matthew, in which he issued the beloved Beatitudes, last Sunday's Gospel set forth both those who are blessed and those who are cursed, that is to say, believers and unbelievers respectively.  Here, today, we continue with that sermon, and Jesus deals with two topics that help shape the lives of his disciples – loving and judging. Who and how and when are we to love, and to judge our neighbor?

Before we get to that, though, perhaps the Christian does well to consider the basis for our loving of others, and really of everything that we are and do as Christians.  It's all found, first, in the love of Christ.  He who surely practices what he preaches. He certainly loved his own enemies. He gave his cheeks to be struck.  He gave his garments to be divided.  He even prayed, “Father forgive them...” as they nailed him to the cross.  Ah, but those Romans and Jews that put him to death weren't the real enemies.  We were.  Romans 5 teaches us, “For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.”  Yes, Love you enemies, for Jesus has loved you.

Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful, to you!  Do we too easily forget that God didn't HAVE to save us?  That he'd be well within his just rights to mete out punishment for our sins?  But God, instead, loved the world. He sent us the Christ, his own precious Son.  He too loved his enemies, and gave Christ up for us all.

And judgment – we deserve it, of course, but in Christ the judgment is different for us.  The verdict overturned.  The case thrown out.  Christ has born all sin, suffered all punishment, paid the price.  So when he tells you not to judge, he knows a thing or two – he who will judge the nations at his second coming, separating sheep from goats, believers from unbelievers.  He is the righteous judge who was himself condemned to make us righteous who stood condemned under the law.

And so all of what Jesus is about to say is not just a harangue of the law, a lecture in Christian morals that you better follow or else (though it is surely law).  Nor is what follows simply a way to follow him as the perfect example (though he is).  It is, rather instruction in Christian living that is based on the life and death of Christ for us.  We love because he loves us.

The Christian's expression of love, even for his enemies – is solidly rooted in the love Christ has first shown to us.  It is an exercise of the faith the Spirit has worked in us.  It is the natural working of the new man, the believer reconciled to God in his inner being, whose mind is held captive to the word of God and whose spirit is alive in Christ.  All this love – it's simply what we do, according to our faith.

The problem is we are not only new creations – we also have this flesh that clings to us.  And so where the new man would love naturally, without prompting or even encouraging, the old Adam must hear the law, the instruction, the “do this and don't do that”.  Surely this will always expose our sin and failure.  But it also instructs us in the way we ought to be, how and who we ought to love.

This is the life of Christian sanctification.  It is the main topic of both sermons on Mount and Plain, and actually, for much of Jesus' teaching.  We Christians are not anti-nomians.  We don't ignore or despise the law.  The Gospel must predominate, but it doesn't eliminate the law.  Faith saves, but works remain to be done.  Grace alone and faith alone are the way to be saved.  But being saved means doing – living out your faith.  Ephesians 2:8-9 are followed by Ephesians 2:10!

The good works are prepared for us to do – ready and waiting.  The neighbors are there for us to love.  And so there is doing to be done.  And so look at the verbs Jesus uses here.  Imperative verbs, telling us to do stuff:

Love – Do Good – Bless – Pray – Turn – Give – Do not Demand – Likewise do to them – be merciful. Do not judge, do not condemn, forgive, and (again) give.

These things are hard to do!  We have this flesh that wants to do other things!  Hate our enemies.  To do bad things to those who hurt us.  To curse them, not pray for them.  To strike back when they strike us.  To demand our fair and right part.  And to do to them as we think they deserve.

But it's even harder than just simply not doing evil – a sort of a live and let live – Jesus means doing good, even to those who hate you and curse you and harm you – yes, even your enemies!  For even sinners lend to sinners, and love those who love them.  But you Christians who have received my love and mercy – you are to show love and mercy even – even to your enemies!   The bar is higher.  The calling is greater.

Hard to do without failing.  Hard to do without struggling.  So hard, that we can only do these things in Christ, out of faith, and under the grace and mercy he's already shown and continues to show us.

And this word, love – you may have heard the Greek word for it - “Agape”.  It's not the romantic love, or the brotherly love, or even the family love – Greek has different words for all of those.  This is the self-sacrificial love of one for another, the putting another person first, before yourself.  The kind of love that Jesus showed, and showed perfectly in putting the word before himself when he took the world's sin on himself, and suffered the cross for all.  So to show agape is to reflect that Christ-like love to others.  Even to suffer and perhaps to die for them. 

And what about this business of “judging”?  Here's a playground for all sorts of mischief and false teaching.  First we must see this in light of the wider context of Scripture, which tells in other places of “how we ought to judge”.  And so Jesus doesn't mean here, “don't judge, ever, in any way”.  He does seem to be warning us at the very least to not judge harshly or unfairly – for what goes around comes around, and the measure you use will be used on you.  First of all, you'll get your payback from others.  But perhaps even from God.

Martin Luther preached several sermons on this text, and one of the passages he kept close at hand was that of Matthew 18 where we read of the unmerciful servant.  You remember, the servant who owed a great debt, but the master forgave him – and that servant promptly went out and found another servant, who owed him a lesser sum, choked him and threw him in prison for not paying.  What an outlandish story!  But Jesus threatens, “neither will my Father forgive you, if you do not forgive others”.

And likewise, Luther points us to the teaching of Jesus in Matthew 7 about straining at the speck in your brother's eye all the while having a log or a plank in your own eye.  It's laughable.  It's ridiculous.  It makes no sense.  But it is just how we are – we who are forgiven much, but fail to forgive others.

So how are we to judge, then?  If you take these words of Jesus in their most literal sense, then no, we are not to judge at all.  But then you have a problem because other places in Scripture teach precisely that we ought to judge.  The words of Jesus in our text speak more to the attitude, toward being judgmental – and unfairly treating our neighbor with harshness rather than mercy. So the real questions are, When is it ok, and on what basis do we judge? 

Well we'd never judge another's heart or his eternal salvation – that surely is for God alone.  And Christ will come again to judge the living and the dead.  Don't take away from him what belongs to him. Oh, but then Paul tells us that on that day we, the believers, will also participate in judging the nations – and even the angels! 

1 Corinthians 6: 1 If any of you has a dispute with another, do you dare to take it before the ungodly for judgment instead of before the Lord’s people? 2 Or do you not know that the Lord’s people will judge the world? And if you are to judge the world, are you not competent to judge trivial cases? 3 Do you not know that we will judge angels? How much more the things of this life! 4 Therefore, if you have disputes about such matters, do you ask for a ruling from those whose way of life is scorned in the church? 5 I say this to shame you. Is it possible that there is nobody among you wise enough to judge a dispute between believers? 6 But instead, one brother takes another to court—and this in front of unbelievers!

Leviticus 19:15 Do not pervert justice; do not show partiality to the poor or favoritism to the great, but judge your neighbor fairly.

Proverbs 31:9 Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.

And so God does call us to judge in certain times and places – and as with many things for us, the key is really vocation.  Have you been called to judge in this situation, in this way?  Then do so, without fear and hesitation.  But do so justly and fairly.  Do so with an eye toward the mercy that has been shown you in Christ.  Sometimes it's your place to judge – like, if you are, a judge!  Or if you are a parent who is given charge of children to raise.  Or a school teacher or a boss or a pastor or other authority.  Each of these vocations judges, in a sense, in their own sphere, in what is given to them. 

But even more generally, as Christians, we ought to show good judgment that is based on the clear word of God.  We ought to “test the spirits”.  We ought to keep close watch on our doctrine.  Test everything, hold to what is good.  If anyone preaches a different gospel, then let them be anathema!  But always back to the word – never judging on my own opinions, ideas, or wisdom.  Just as a good courtroom judge does his judging based on the law, so the Christian who is given to judge, will only ever do so in accord with the Word of God.

When it is not given to us to judge – let God do the judging.  When it is given to us to judge, let us judge rightly, on the basis of his word – that word of both law and gospel!  Therefore even our rightful judging is informed by a humility that we too are worthy of judgment, and that we who have known mercy might show mercy where possible.

The life of love is hard.  Jesus' words today are a challenge.  We we fail, and often.  Thanks be to God that when we fall, it is always back on his mercy, his love, his forgiveness, his cross... and that in him we are and ever will be judged righteous before God. 

Sermon - Epiphany 6 - Luke 5:1-11

5^th Sunday after Epiphany

February 10, 2019

Luke 5:1-11

“Reverence”

Things aren't like they used to be, that's fairly obvious. We live in a time of massive and rapid change. It's not just technology that is ever-changing our world, but we are seeing societal and cultural changes at perhaps the most rapid pace of any people in history. The very pillars of western civilization are shaking – and if it started in the 1960s, the readers on the Richter scale are only going up, it seems. If you see the world around us, and are paying attention at all, you have to wonder what kind of world we are leaving for our children.

It shouldn't really surprise us, though. Paul said creation itself is like a woman in labor – and the birth pangs get more intense as the end draws near. Revelation paints all sorts of scary pictures of the chaos that grows and deepens up until the final judgment. Even Genesis helps to explain the situation, showing that the creation under Adam is fallen along with its head, and as the kudzu of the curse sprouts and spreads with each passing generation, far more than thorns and thistles infect the ground – death itself reigns. Christians might seem like we're getting pretty doom-and-gloom as of late, but we've always known the course of history is really a managed decline at best. And so we've always prayed, “come quickly, Lord Jesus”.

But in all of this deterioration and upheaval, cultural, moral and spiritual, some of the changes seem to get lost in the shuffle. And one of those is the loss, for many people, of a sense of reverence. A sense of deep respect or regard for something or someone, and in our context, especially, for the Lord Almighty.

Reverence, respect, regard or even modesty – whatever you call it – it's one of those things that's hard to define and quantify, but you know it when you see it. And you really know it when it's missing. There are simply ways that you act and don't act that communicate and demonstrate your true regard for something. Sure there are shades of it left in our culture, in certain corners – the military, government rituals. Weddings, to some extent, funerals, mostly, although these are changing, too.

Some of the reverence people do maintain is for things that really don't matter all that much, say a famous sports figure or youtube celebrity. And so in all things, confusion reigns. But of course what we are most concerned about is where almighty God fits in all of this.

Isaiah knew reverence. When he saw his vision of the Lord in the temple, he couldn't help but respond as he did. He was not casual about it. He didn't take this lightly. This was not God my good buddy here to share a fist-bump. This is Yahweh Lord of Hosts who shakes the foundations of creation with his breath. This is the one attended by angels, the one whose train fills the temple even as his glory fills creation. There is no more glorious and also more terrifying sight for mortal eyes. Isaiah can only exclaim, “Woe is me! I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips...”

Peter knew reverence. He showed it, in part, when he agreed to Jesus' non-sensical seeming instructions on how to catch fish. This professional fisherman must have known better – the fish weren't biting last night, they certainly won't be today. But out of respect for the one he called “Master”, he let down the nets. And then. Then the miracle happened. And Peter had a realization. This was not just a teacher or a master, this one is more appropriately called “Lord.” And Peter has an Isaiah moment. He says much the same, “Woe is me” as Isaiah. He begs Jesus to depart from him, for like Isaiah, he is unclean. He is a sinner.

What about you? Are you properly reverent toward the Holy God, in whose presence you stand, even today? Do you treat this place, this house of God, with a casual attitude, as if what goes on here is just a social club or coffee hour? Get together with some friends and sing some nice songs, make ourselves feel good about God and life, and go on our happy way? Maybe you're not quite so crass as that. But I think we are all tempted to be.

Here is where our liturgy can helps us. When we enter God's presence, and call upon his name, there is a reason one of our first orders of business is to follow in the train of Peter and Isaiah, and to confess: We are sinful and unclean. We are a people of unclean lips. We are not worthy to stand in the presence of Holy God, let alone come to him for blessings. We confess, each of us, we deserve temporal and eternal punishment. We say the same as what God has said about us – that we have fallen short, our best works are filthy rags, there is no one righteous, not one. The commandments convict us. The teachings of Jesus drive the stake further into us. We sin in deed, but also word and thought. We are lost in sin. Woe is me. Woe is you, too.

But then see how the pattern unfolds... The great surprise! The wonder of wonders! God does not smite Isaiah on the spot, as he very well could have. Instead he sends an angel- a messenger, to purge his sin. Your lips are unclean? Well fear not, this has touched your lips. You are now clean.

And Peter, falling down in quaking fear before Jesus in the boat – Jesus doesn't speak harshly, but kindly to him. He says, “fear not”. He doesn't spell it out, but his kind manner shows the forgiveness is already happening. There's no punishment to fear, no wrath of God for your sin. He doesn't argue, “no, Peter, you're not really that bad”. But he shows Peter that in him there is nothing to fear from sin.

And so, you, and so me. When we make our confession of sin, whether here all together or privately to the pastor – the response is the same: fear not. Your sins are forgiven. Your guilt atoned for. Your price paid. You don't need to dread that God will pay you back for what you've done. Instead, he has paid, in Christ, for what you've done. The wages of sin are on him. The chastisement that brought us peace is on him. With his stripes, you are healed. With his cross, his suffering, his death.

Christian reverence – respect, regard, honor – whatever you call it – this kind of reverence moves from fear to love and trust. As Luther said in the meaning to the commandment, “we should fear, love and trust God above all things”. It starts with a recognition of God's holiness and our unholiness, an honest appraisal of what ought to happen to us by rights. But when Christ changes it all for us, when God's grace and mercy become manifest in him, and through the word and the sacraments, now in us. Fear of death is driven away. Fear of judgment is no more. Peace with God becomes our new reality. We can trust him, his grace, his mercy. All is well once again.

But that doesn't end the story. For Isaiah had work to do – he was sent to preach and prophesy. Likewise Peter and the others received a commission - “I will make you fishers of men”.

And so you, also, sins forgiven, are called to work. You, made clean before God are called to serve him and your neighbor. You may not be called to preach or teach. You may not be called to a church board or committee. You may simply be called to show Christian love wherever and however you can, in whatever place God has placed you. You may even be called upon to give answer to the hope that is within you, and witness in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, or the ends of the earth. You may be called upon to give that confession in the face of opposition. And if this world keeps going its way, that opposition may be out-and-out persecution, and even come with threat of death.

But no matter. You, in whatever way God sees fit, become a part of this great net-casting endeavor, the fishing of men, as the Good News of Christ that you've heard and believed goes forth and spreads on top of all the weeds of the world.

And having moved from fear to faith, and knowing that we are no longer doomed in the presence of God, our reverence takes another turn. We don't become so casual and familiar with God that we forget his holiness. We maintain a reverent posture, but now without fear. More like an honor guard, showing by our words and actions where the foundation of all things begins and ends. In good order, bringing other sinners to come and see and hear what we have seen and heard. With fitting decorum, worshiping the God who has done great things for me, and magnifying him in our song, our prayer, our gifts, and all things. Holding sacred that which is sacred, cherishing these good gifts.

Forgive us, Lord, when we take you lightly, and fail to hold sacred your name and your word. Teach us true reverence. For the sake of your Son, Jesus, cleanse us and drive out our fear, so that we may serve you with a good conscience. And bless our work, in our vocations, that we too may become fishers of men, support the ministry of the Gospel, and bring others to hold sacred the things of God in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.