Sermon - 14th Sunday after Pentecost - Luke 15:1-10

Luke 15:1-10

“Lost and Found”

Luke 15 is sometimes called “The Lost Chapter”, not because it has ever been lost, but because it famously contains the story of the Prodigal Son or the Lost Son, and also these two parables in the first part of the chapter – the Lost Sheep and the Lost Coin.

Jesus tells these parables, Luke tells us, as “tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear him.”  And while that means they were starting to follow him, and they were drawing around him in proximity, there’s also a spiritual reality here, too.  They were coming to faith in him.  They were repenting and believing.

Now perhaps a word against some popular preaching today – who draw the wrong conclusion here.  The fact that Sinners and Tax Collectors were drawing near to Jesus doesn’t mean that Jesus is just fine and ok with all manner of sin.  It doesn’t mean that you can come to Jesus today and remain in your sinful life, clinging to your sinful actions, with no change or modification to your way of life.  But rather, as Jesus receives sinners, he changes them.  They are brought to repentance.  Turned around.   And I should really say WE are brought to repentance, because this is all of us who believe.  Luke mentions that repentance in just a few verses.

But nonetheless, these sinners and tax collectors stand in contrast to the Pharisees and Scribes, who grumbled.  They grumbled that Jesus would receive such filthy vagabonds, which is telling in itself about their own spiritual condition.  Grumbling, like the children of Israel in the wilderness, unappreciative, unfaithful.  They, in their spiritual hubris, who didn’t want to be polluted by these obvious sinners.  They, who thought it inappropriate or unbecoming of Jesus to slum it up with the ne’er do-wells, rather, he should be cozying up to us, the good people, the righteous folk.

“This man welcomes sinners” they complain, and in doing so they unwittingly confess exactly what it is that makes this Jesus so wonderful.  That which is mockery on their lips is praise from all Christians.  Jesus sinners doth receive!

They’ve got it backwards, as people so often do when it comes to Jesus.  And so he tells them these two parables of that which is lost, and that which is found.  And the application is fairly straightforward.

First there is the Lost Sheep.  Jesus asks, “which of you would…?” and the implied answer is, “anyone would” go looking for that lost sheep.  While on the one hand, 1 out of 100 isn’t all that much – 1 % - you might lose that much in the stock market in a day.  But on the other hand, this sheep is his – and it matters to the shepherd. And he’s going to go looking for it. 

Then you have the woman who loses a silver coin – this time 1 out of 10 – and she turns her house upside down looking for it.  Another perspective from everyday life, but something all his hearers could relate to.

A modern day version of these stories might be when you misplace your wallet or keys – and you go retracing your steps until you find them.  If that doesn’t work quick enough, you enlist the aid of your family, and start checking ever more places – the car, under the couch cushions, maybe I left them at work?  Maybe it keeps you awake at night.  Roman Catholics even call on St. Anthony to help him find what was lost. 

And so losing something important to you is a common enough earthly story.  But what is the heavenly meaning here?  What is Jesus teaching us?

For one, that we are lost in sin. And not just the outwardly, obviously sinful people, but all of us.  Not just the tax collectors and women of ill repute, but the Pharisees and Scribes, too.  You and I are the lost sheep.  You and I are the lost coin. 

But in any case, Jesus is all about seeking and saving the lost.  Sure, he’s the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep, a shepherd unlike any other.  But here, too, he is just like a regular shepherd who would go looking for a sheep that is lost.  He doesn’t wait for the sheep to come wandering back, to pull itself out of whatever ditch the sheep has gotten bogged down in.  He doesn’t stand there with arms folded until the sheep gets his act together.  He goes.  He seeks.  He finds.  He saves.

Our Good Shepherd comes down to the ditch to pull that lost sheep out of the mud.  He fends off the slobbering beasts who would have that sheep for lunch.  He brings that lost sheep back into the fold, washes him clean, gives him rest, leads him to still waters and green pastures.

And is Jesus comparing himself to a woman?  Well, he’s compared himself elsewhere to a mother hen gathering up her chicks.  But the point of comparison is what’s important.  Jesus seeks the lost.  He goes to great trouble to do so.  Oh, you Pharisees think these sinners are lost?  Well, I’m going to find them.  I’m not a savior who cuts his losses, and just leaves the lost to wander.  I seek and save the lost.  I go after the sinner.  And I will find him.

He cleans and clears the house, turns everything upside down in his zeal to purify and his fervor to find.  He goes to great lengths, any lengths, even a cross to get the job done, if that’s what it takes!  And that’s what it took.

What the Pharisees and Scribes couldn’t see, is that they too were lost.  What they couldn’t get past was their own self-righteousness.  They counted themselves among the 99 righteous who needed no finding.  But if they could admit their own lost-ness, they’d be glad for a savior that seeks the lost.  And so should we.  And speaking of gladness…

In both parables, when the lost is found, there is great rejoicing.  The shepherd and the woman each throw a party for their friends and neighbors, and express their joy at the lost being found.  Jesus makes the point that the same happens in heaven – the angels throw a party – when even one sinner repents.

Well they must party a lot up there.  Because repentance doesn’t just happen on a one and done basis.  We lost and found sinners get lost and found over and over.  We daily bring our sins to Jesus.  We drown the old Adam in baptism daily, by repentance and faith.  But it’s really the Spirit working in us, and on us.  It’s him who has begun a good work within us and bringing it toward its completion at the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.  We are constantly being found by Christ, saved by Christ, sanctified by the Spirit of Christ. 

Oh what joy there must be in heaven, oh what an angelic grand gala every time sinners confess and are absolved, every time the water and word of baptism do their thing, and every time repentant sinners come to the one who meets them at the table – as both the host and as the feast, himself.  No wonder we couch our liturgy of Holy Communion with the Preface, “therefore with angels and archangels and with all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify..” the holy name of God. 

With Jesus it’s never what the world expects.  The poor are made rich and the rich made poor.  The humble are lifted up and the exalted are made low.  The last are first, the lowly are exalted and vice versa. 

Here, too, those that think they’ve got it all together, who trust their own way, who seek to find themselves - are really the ones that are lost.  And the ones who seem so lost in sin – who despair of themselves and humbly confess their wandering ways – they are sought out and found, by Jesus, through his Gospel. 

May you ever be so lost – and may you always be found, in him.  In Jesus Name.

Sermon - 13th Sunday after Pentecost - Luke 14:15-25

Luke 14:15-25
“Counting the Cost”

Sometimes the teachings of Jesus are hard to swallow. For those with only a shallow view of our Lord, or a twisted understanding of what the Christian faith is about – an honest look at what Jesus actually says could be rather puzzling.  And I think we Christians ought to accept and admit the fact that some of the things the Bible teaches, and some of Jesus’ own teaching is difficult.  It can be difficult to understand, in our minds.  It can be difficult to accept, with our hearts.  We are limited human beings, after all, and sinful on top of that.  We are not God, and should not presume to judge him or what he says, but rather accept even the difficult teachings in faith.

Take his teaching in our Gospel reading today. Hate your family? Renounce your very life? Carry your cross? This is not the self-help guru Jesus that many have come to believe in. This is not the love and peace Jesus that many think he is. “Count the cost of discipleship”, Jesus teaches today. And the cost is high.

It's worth noting, perhaps, that Jesus gave these hard words as his popularity was reaching a fever pitch. “Large crowds followed him”. And perhaps not for the right reasons. Whatever they were looking for, it wasn't what Jesus had come to do and be. I think it's much the same today.
You look at some of the largest churches, the fastest-growing with the big budgets. Their pastors are on TV and they buy old sports stadiums to hold the crowds. But if you listen to the message – it's empty. There is little talk of sin, and therefore no need for a savior. Jesus, if he's mentioned at all, is reduced to a rule maker, an example to follow, or just somebody who wants you to be happy with yourself.

And we can see why the temptation is so strong. Even though we are at a church which takes its doctrine seriously, which is well grounded in the gospel but not afraid to speak the law. Even though Messiah seeks to be faithful to our Lord and his teachings, and to all that we hold dear. Still, we are sinners. And our sinful nature wants success. It wants glory. It wants numbers.

We look at the bulletin and the numbers aren't what we want them to be. And this makes us uncomfortable. Anxious, maybe. Where is our faith that no matter what, the Lord will care for us? Aren't we tempted to measure our success by the outward growth we see here, and not by how faithful we are to the Word? What will happen to our congregation if we don’t change with the times, adapt to the world, get with the program?  Ah, but we can pine for the glory days when things were easier, and people were more involved and when society wasn’t against us and the church wasn’t a pariah.  But nostalgia won’t do us any good either.  Being faithful today, in the context we find ourselves now, is what we are called to do.

The same holds true for our personal lives. Living as a Christian means sometimes we don't have all the goodies, the success, the pleasures of our worldly counterparts. Sometimes it means trouble. It could even mean strife in your family, suffering, shame or loss. You might even have to die for your faith, as so many Christians have.

Jesus says to count the cost. If you want to be his disciple, it means an ordering of priorities that is at odds with the unbelieving world. Seeking first his kingdom and his righteousness. All these other things, good gifts that they may be, come after that.

And so again, it's a matter of Law and Gospel. To those seeking glory and earthly success and worldly things – Jesus throws a roadblock. You better think twice. Being my disciple is no walk in the park. It's like a king going to war – he knows there will be bloodshed and turmoil, even death.
It’s almost as if Jesus doesn’t want disciples!  What a terrible politician he would make.  What a poor salesman.  It’s almost as if he’s talking you out of following him – trying to scare you off!  The cost – it’s just too high.

But friends, these are not the only words of Jesus.

This is also the Jesus who said “come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest”.  Who said, “if anyone thirsts let him come to me and drink – for free”.  Or “come and eat this bread from heaven and live forever.  He who believes in me will live even though he dies.  Don’t worry about tomorrow, for your Father knows what you need, and are you not worth more than many sparrows?  Seek and you will find, knock and the door will be open.  I am the Good Shepherd who lays down his life for the sheep.”

You see, for those who are already broken, suffering, and dying... For those who aren't so concerned about offending their earthly family as the offense they've given their heavenly Father... for those of us who bear the weight of our guilt, Jesus speaks a different word – the Gospel. And that is an entirely different way of counting.

In Christ, God does not count our sins against us.  He reckons faith as righteousness. He gives his greatest riches as a gift. He sends his only son not to condemn as we deserve, but to die in our place, to take the punishment we deserve. God becomes man, to save man from our own rebellion.
And certainly God knew the cost – when he sent Jesus to do the work of salvation. And Jesus knew the cost – blood, a cross, a tomb. The cup of God's wrath. A far cry from the glory of the crowds – but the cry of crowds for his blood – crucify him!

The God of mercy who counts even the hairs on your head will certainly care for you in every way, down to the last detail.

So Christianity is both easy and hard, depending how you count it. It's both costly and free.
So now – for you - what really counts? Jesus calls us to count differently. He turns our corrupted wisdom on its head. The first shall be last. The least shall be the greatest. In death there is life. That's how God counts.

If you would cling to the things of this world – your sins and the corrupted creation – even your family or your life – then it seems very costly indeed. Maybe too much so for some people. A burden, a chore, a downer and a drag. Who would want to be a Christian anyway? This is the way of the Law.

But to those who have ears to hear, the Gospel shows the true kingdom is free. Disciples are born, not graduated. We don't earn our way in, we are adopted as sons. And our Lord continues to do the work of discipling us, teaching us, strengthening us. He continues to give freely and without cost, according to this Gospel. Holy Baptism, Holy Absolution, Holy Communion, the free and clear proclamation of His grace. All of these come at no cost to you, all for the sake of Jesus.

It's a wise person that knows that nothing in this life is truly free. The bigger the sign and the more exclamation marks, the more closely we should look at the fine print. But it's a wiser person who knows even better. That in Jesus there are no strings attached. In Jesus salvation is truly free for sinners. That in Jesus Christ our Lord, our cost is covered, and it's on him.

The free gifts of his kingdom bring us to count differently, too. By his Spirit we consider ourselves no longer #1, but our neighbor. We consider the things above as more precious than the things below. We even see suffering through the eyes of faith – and rejoice amidst our troubles, all for the sake of Christ. What really counts – he has already counted to us – righteousness in him forever. And we can always count on him.

In Jesus Name, Amen.

Sermon - Luke 14:1-14 - 12th Sunday after Pentecost

Luke 14:1–14

“Humbled and Exalted”

Much of today’s reading revolves around the polarity of humiliation and exaltation, being brought low or made low, and being raised up.  It’s a common enough experience in human life, on either end of the scale.  But with Jesus there’s always more to learn – especially as our earthly experiences shed light on spiritual realities.

As he often does, Jesus shows mercy to a man before him suffering from disease, in this case dropsy, an abnormal swelling with fluid – we’d call it today “edema”.  He heals the man, even though it’s a Sabbath day, and even in the midst of the Pharisees at whose home he is dining.

Jesus is often about the business of humbling the self-righteous.  So when the Pharisees get all judgey about Jesus breaking their precious Sabbath laws and healing a man on the Sabbath – he rhetorically humiliates them.  Which of you wouldn’t do the same if you had a son, or even an ox stuck in a ditch on the Sabbath?  Wouldn’t you pull it out of the well?  Wouldn’t you save the poor animal?  And how much more valuable is the man than the beast? And how much less “work” is it for Jesus to say a word of healing than for a farmer to strain and stress to pull a huge animal from a ditch? 

As on so many occasions, Jesus verbally kicks out the pedestal of self-righteousness from under them.  And they are left speechless.  Or the Greek actually says, “They had no strength to answer”.  Well, the law leaves us speechless, too.  Every mouth is stopped, after all.

Then we have the Parable of the Wedding Feast.  Jesus doesn’t stray too far from the occasion for this earthly story with a heavenly meaning.  He was attending this dinner party at the home of a Pharisee.  And he observed the jockeying for position, as the Pharisees sought the best and most honorable places.  The sight must have been almost laughable.  But it’s not too hard to imagine.

We sinners are all too often selfishly concerned about our own place.  We seek the approval and accolades of man.  We want the highest place, if not at the table, then at the office, or in the family, or amongst our friends, etc.  We want to be regarded and respected, and woe unto you if you don’t treat me as I deserve!  Oh the games we play, seeking after our own status in small and big ways.  But what it boils down to is this:  Loving ourselves more than our neighbors.  Even humiliating others in order to exalt ourselves.

And so Jesus warns us – with a parable of both practical and spiritual advice.  Seek the lower place, and be invited upward.  Don’t seek the higher place, and be humbled, brought low.  You can see how it plays out in practical, worldly terms.  But consider also the spiritual meaning:

Humble yourself.  Take the lowest seat.  It’s not Jesus as miss-manners.  This is a spiritual truth we do well to follow.  We need to compare ourselves, our lives, our works - not against others but against the standard of God’s holy law.  Do I love the Lord with all my heart, soul and strength?  Do I love my neighbor as I should?  Do I keep the 10 commandments?  Do I honor God, his name, his word?  Do I care for my neighbor’s possessions and life and good name?  Am I chaste in everything I say and do?  If the law of God doesn’t humble you, sinner, you’re not listening too carefully.  If the commandments of God don’t show you your lowly, sorry, state, then your ears are plugged with rationalizations and lies.

Far better to confess your sins and bring them, humbly, to the foot of the cross, and be raised up by the restoration of his forgiveness.  Far better than to confess your own righteousness and be exposed at the judgment seat of Christ, after all, for the sinner you are.  Exalting oneself in the sight of the Lord is always a bad idea.  But humble yourself in the sight of the Lord, and he will lift you up.

And all of this has to do with how we treat our neighbor, as well.  Take the other parable, of the Great Banquet.  Here Jesus instructs us to regard the poor, the lowly, the humble.  And what could be more Christ-like?  Rather than seeking rewards by all our interactions with others, rather than playing quid-pro-quo, I’ll only scratch your back if you scratch mine…. The Christian ethic is one of selfless service.  The Christian humbles himself not only before God, but before others, regards others more highly than himself.

Martin Luther commented on the issue this way:

“be careful and arm yourself against this saying: “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled.” For God will not and cannot tolerate such pride and arrogance. What do you have that you should be so proud? What do you have of yourself? And is not another just as much God’s creature as you are, no matter who he is? He will not have him despised; for he who despises his creature also mocks his Creator, says Solomon [Prov. 14:31; 17:5], and he who scoffs at a station scoffs at the Lord himself.”

For his part, our Lord Jesus knows what it means to humble himself.  Did anyone ever endure such humiliation as Jesus?  So much of his work involved making himself low, we even speak of his work for us – the first part – as his “state of humiliation”.  It begins with him humbling himself to become man, to take on flesh, to be conceived and born into this polluted world.  He knew humility in his life, having no special place like kings and emperors, but a lowly carpenter, a Galilean commoner.  He had no place to even lay his head. Humbled in his suffering, humiliated in his death.  Even his burial didn’t afford him proper honor – a hasty burial in a borrowed tomb. 

And all this humiliation for you, of course.  Brought low in your place.  Enduring the punishments, suffering the condemnation you deserve.  Taking the worst seat, the lowest place, what should have been yours and mine, the place of the cross.

But then… the exaltation would follow.  Christ is exalted, but not for himself, yet also for you.  He was raised from death for you!  To bring you with him from death into life.  He trounced the forces of hell for you – and declared his victory there on the devil’s own home turf, personally.  He ascended into heaven and takes back his throne – for you!  To rule the world, the church, and all things for you and for all his people.  And he will come again in glory, not for himself, but for you – to call your resting bones to life again, to gather you with the sheep into your rest, and to give you the crown of righteousness and a share in his reign.  

His humiliation spares you ultimate humiliation.  And his exaltation brings your exaltation.  Brought low in Christ, lifted up in Christ, he brings you to the highest seat, even a place at his heavenly feast.  Inviting you, the lowly, the outcast, to his Great Banquet.

Ah, but we don’t have to wait until that day, to take our place at his table, his banquet.  He invites you, even now, to his table.  When we gather around the altar, kneel at the rail, and receive the lavish feast of Christ’s body and blood – he has truly invited the lowly, the lame, the outsider, the shameful, the poor, the sinful dregs.  But he also brings us, by himself, from that low place, the highest.  Sins forgiven, we depart in peace – knowing Christ’s righteousness covers us.  Forgiveness, life and salvation are ours.  We are, spiritually, exalted in Christ.  Does it get any better?

So, friends, live a life of humility – in service to God and neighbor. Do not exalt yourselves before others, but humbly serve.  Do not exalt yourself before God, but be honest about your low estate.  Humbly bear your sins to Christ, who takes your low place, and lifts you up.  And live in the hope of the great banquet to come, when the foretaste gives way to the feast in all its fulfillment.