Sermon - Ash Wednesday - Psalm 130

This Lenten season, like every year, we are setting forth a theme for our midweek evening services.  We’ve called this series, “Luther’s Catechism Hymns”.  The idea is this.  We are all or should be familiar with Luther’s Small Catechism and its Six Chief Parts.  That little summary of the Bible forms the foundation of most of our formal instruction, for Confirmation in the Lutheran Church.  Many preachers over the years have even used the 6 Chief Parts as a structure for a Lenten series:  The 10 Commandments, the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, Holy Baptism, Confession and Absolution, and the Lord’s Supper.  We’re not re-inventing the wheel.

But we are perhaps adding another layer, or looking at the Small Catechism through a different lens.  Dr. Luther not only gave us the clarity and simplicity of the Small Catechism to teach us and our children the faith, but he also wrote many hymns for much the same purpose.  And it’s been pointed out, and maybe shouldn’t surprise us, that some of these hymns match up quite well with the Six Chief Parts.  That may have even been intentional in some cases.

And so, our approach will be, to examine these treasures of the church, these precious doctrines of Scripture -  through the lens of the Small Catechism, and that, through the lens of Luther’s catechism hymns.  And in so doing, to draw deeper and richer meaning from the Word of God that calls us to repentance and faith in Jesus Christ.

Since it is Ash Wednesday, however, we’re going to change up the order a bit.  As we begin our penitential season, and even wear the ashes of repentance on our brows, our thoughts would run the way of that Chief Part of the Catechism – “Confession and Absolution”.  If you turn to page 326 in your hymnal, you can read for yourself how the Catechism teaches us to confess and be forgiven:

“What is confession?”

Confession has two parts.  First that we confess our sins, and second, that we receive absolution, that is, forgiveness, from the pastor as from God Himself, not doubting, but firmly believing that by it our sins are forgiven before God in heaven.

It’s so simple, really.  Luther would say, “When I urge you to go to confession, I am simply urging you to be a Christian”.  The heart of our faith is this very thing – repentance and faith, confession and forgiveness, all for the sake of Christ.

Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, a season of penitence to prepare us for Holy Week and Easter, the highest celebration of the Church.  So for the Christian, preparation begins with sorrow for sin, contrition, a recognition of the depths of our problem.  Celebration comes only after sorrow – the joy of Easter only after the suffering of Calvary.

We hear these words every Ash Wednesday, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return”.  It’s a stark reminder of death.  For as our father Adam was formed from the dust, so will we all return to the earth when the grave reclaims our bodies.  But that only happens because of sin, which brings the wages of death.  The grave is a deep pit, indeed, while it may be just 6 feet down – it is inescapable apart from Christ.

It’s not just in the New Testament that God’s people recognized the depth of the problem, either.  Already David knew what death meant – he saw it all around him.  He even had a hand in the death of many, some justly, some not so.  And he knew that sin and death went together – it’s all over his writing.

Take Psalm 130, on which Luther based his hymn, “From Depths of Woe I Cry to Thee”.  There David writes:

Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord!
²     O Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
    to the voice of my pleas for mercy!

³ If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,
    O Lord, who could stand?
⁴ But with you there is forgiveness,
    that you may be feared.

⁵ I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
    and in his word I hope;
⁶ my soul waits for the Lord
    more than watchmen for the morning,
    more than watchmen for the morning.

⁷ O Israel, hope in the Lord!
    For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
    and with him is plentiful redemption.
⁸ And he will redeem Israel
    from all his iniquities.

Luther summarizes and paraphrases this Psalm in this hymn – written in a style easy for his people to sing.  He wrote, “From Depths of Woe” in 1523 while he was also engaged in re-working the Latin Mass into German.  He set a number of liturgical pieces to hymnody – and this one works well as a confession of sins.

Consider with the Psalmist, how bad off we’d be if God marked our sins – if he strictly and thoroughly held every little sin against us – as the law requires.  Consider how each of us brings a burden of sin so heavy, a record of sin so extensive, that we can’t even know how deep and sore it goes.  Only God can.  But the thought of his justice holding us to account is not pleasant, in fact, it’s terrifying.  No one could stand. 

But the psalmist quickly turns to God’s forgiveness.  “But with you there is forgiveness, therefore you are feared!”  Who would want to believe in a God who was extreme to mark our sins?  But a God who brings forgiveness?  That’s a God who inspires fear, love AND trust.  That’s the God that we know through Jesus.  Luther puts it this way in the hymn:

“Though great our sins, yet greater still Is God's abundant favor”

As this hymn expresses well humanity’s deepest sorrow, it has often been sung in times of mourning.  For example, it was sung in the castle church of Wittenberg, on May 9^th, 1525, at the funeral of Duke Frederick the Wise, Luther’s patron and protector.  Later, it would be sung at Luther’s own funeral in 1546.

But the hymn is not all about sorrow, any more than Confession itself for the Christian is only about sorrow.  Confession and absolution are two sides of the coin, just like the teachings of the law and the proclamation of the gospel.  Where sin is confessed, it is forgiven in Christ.  Where ashes mark you with the reminder of death, they are placed in a cross which reminds us that death lies defeated.  When you give voice to your sinfulness, God’s servants speak words of forgiveness, restoration and peace.  Confession and Absolution are watchwords for the Christian – a pattern for our lives.

The Psalmist speaks of his soul waiting for the Lord more than watchman for the morning.  Luther talks about our heart tarrying through the night, and awakening at dawn.  The picture is this.  We’re waiting for our shift to be over, our vigil of faith upon earth.  We wait, patiently, expectantly, for the salvation of God to appear.  Our hope is in the Lord.  Our eyes are on the horizon, looking for his steadfast love and plentiful redemption.  And our eyes and our hope and our patient waiting will not be disappointed, for the Lord comes to redeem us from our iniquities.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will forgive our sins, and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

This Lenten season, let us once again repent.  Turn your hearts from sin, and toward faith in Christ.  Say of yourself what God has said of you – that you are conceived and born in sin, that you sin daily and sin much, but hear what God also says through Christ – that your sins are removed, washed away clean even as these ashes soon will be. 

And remember this - that even death itself is a temporary arrangement.  For though you are dust and to dust you shall return, that’s not the end of the story.  For your sins are great, greater still is God’s abundant favor.  Though you die, yet shall you live in Jesus Christ our Lord.  A blessed Ash Wednesday, in Jesus’ Name.  Amen.

Sermon - Transfiguration - Matthew 17:1-9

The Transfiguration of Our Lord
“Seeing the Glory.  Listening to the Son.”
Matthew 17:1-9

This Sunday, Transfiguration Sunday, is kind of the last hurrah of the Epiphany season.  What started out with a bright star leading the wise men to the baby Jesus not ends on a mountaintop with the brightness of God’s glory shining in Christ.  What began at the Jordan river, when Jesus was baptized and the voice from heaven declared “This is my Son”, now concludes with the same voice, the same words, and another little addition, “Listen to him”.  What started out with humble beginnings – a baby laid in a manger – now gives a glimpse of the true glory behind it all, a peek through the veil of humility, a brief peek at the glory of the Son of God.  Soon liturgical lights will dim into Lent.  The Alleluias will go on vacation.  We leave the mount and go to the plain, even the valley of the shadow of death.

We go toward the garden, the Garden of Gethsemane, where Jesus also prays.  We go to dark Gethsemane, for another retreat with Peter, James and John.  There, they will also be sleepy.  There, they will also not understand.  Jesus will be attended not by Moses and Elijah, but by the angels.  There, Jesus will also speak of his cross – not as an exodus, but as a cup that cannot pass from him.  There, in the garden, the brightness of glory is past, and the hour of the power of darkness will come.
But for now, it is good to be here.  The Transfiguration was a necessary event for the disciples to witness.  For them to both to see and also to hear.  For them to experience.  It must have made quite an impression.  For we are creatures of our senses.  Everything we know of the world passes through our eyes or ears, or is sensed by touch, smell or taste.  But mostly eyes and ears.  Here the disciples have a feast for both of these senses.

They see Jesus more clearly for who he is.  They see his glory shining through.  Surely not his full glory, for who could withstand such a sight?  But he gives them a view of himself that they hadn’t seen, and perhaps would never see again this side of death itself.  His face shone like the sun.  His garments, whiter than anyone could bleach.  White as light. 

Jesus didn’t really change.  He was still the same Jesus.  Only his appearance changed.  His figure got “trans-ed”.  They got a better view of the reality that was always there.  The Jesus they usually saw was the Jesus of the incarnation and humiliation, the savior that came lowly and meekly.  The one who had no particular beauty that we should regard him.  He wasn’t notably tall like Saul or strong like Samson.  He had no riches like a Herod.  He didn’t even have a place to lay his head.

And seeing is believing, isn’t it?  Well, sometimes.  Though our eyes may deceive us.  Though our eyes may tell us what is real and we still choose not to believe it.  Eye-witness testimony is considered the most reliable, but even that can be distorted, mis-remembered, or fail.  Sinners tend to either rely too much on our senses, or not enough.  We trust in our own devices and capacities to a fault, or we deny the reality that stares us in the face. 

So God doesn’t leave Peter James and John with only the vision bright.  He doesn’t just show them the glory of Christ without interpretation.  Nor does Christ bare his true glory for all to see, but rather cloaks himself in a veil of humility and shows his true nature in other ways – in word and action.
And since this vision of the transfiguration, by itself, is not enough - this is also why the voice of the Father thunders, and also adds these little words to his endorsement:  Listen to him.

Listening to Jesus is even more important than seeing him.  It’s far better to listen to Jesus than to see him in all his glory, or all his humility.  Martha, Martha, learned that listening to Jesus was far better than all her busy working and doing.  Listening to Jesus is what his sheep do – for they know his voice.

So what does he say?  Well, of course he preaches that the kingdom is at hand.  He calls us to repentance and faith.  He calls us to follow him.  He calls for obedience to the law – as we’ve heard in the last few weeks from the Sermon on the Mount.  He speaks many things, many words, in sermons and parables and sayings.  The voice of the Father says, “Listen to him”, and we do well to pay attention to all of it.

But what those disciples had a hard time hearing, most of all, and what sometimes, we, too, stumble at – is the gospel itself.  The very heart of Jesus’ teaching.  The very focus of his mission.  That the Son of Man would be betrayed, arrested, tried and convicted… that he would be made to suffer, crucified, and that he would be buried, and on the third day rise again.  He told them – he spoke about it plainly.  He repeated, again and again, but the balked, they were afraid to ask, or it simply went in one ear and out the other.  Peter tried to rebuke him, just 6 days before (that’s what is mentioned at the beginning of this reading), but Jesus rebuked him, “get behind me Satan”.  Harsh words, but Jesus will not be turned away from his cross.  He will not be distracted or diverted by any other mission, for any other way of salvation is a suggestion of Satan.  Don’t listen to the devil’s designs.  Listen to Jesus.

And then there’s Moses and Elijah.  Two Old Testament figures who knew a thing or two about not being listened to.  Moses the great law-giver, who led a stubborn and stiff-necked people.  Elijah the prophet spoke for God, preaching against wicked kings and queens and false prophets of Baal, but was ignored and opposed to the point where he thought he was the only one left.  And yet for those with ears to hear, both of these men, and the whole Old Testament with them, preach a word of witness even today – pointing us to Jesus.  They would agree with the voice of the Father.  Listen to Jesus.

And listen in on what they were talking about with Jesus – they weren’t telling him stories of their good old days.  They weren’t comparing notes with how hard it is to preach.  They weren’t even asking how in the world they managed to appear on this mountaintop hundreds of years after they had lived.  Luke’s account tells us the topic of their conversation:  “  They spoke about his departure, which he was about to bring to fulfillment at Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:31) They were talking about the cross.  They, like Jesus, knew what the point of all of this really was.

And one more little phrase to listen to – when they lifted up their eyes, they saw “Jesus only”.  When the transfiguration conversation was over, the cloud disappeared, and Moses and Elijah went their way, they were left with Jesus only.  The saw no one but Jesus only. 

We, too, should see Jesus only and hear Jesus only.  Sure there’s Moses and Elijah, but even they point us to Jesus only.  There is no other name under heaven by which we must be saved, but Jesus only.  There is no one who can give us perfect righteousness but Jesus only.  There is no one whose blood can cover our sins, but Jesus only.  And therefore no one worth trusting in, following, and listening to – but Jesus only.

The transfiguration of Jesus is a blessed event in which we see, through the eyes of these three apostles, a glimpse behind the veil.  We see, with them, a hint of the glory of the eternal Son of God that has hidden himself in this human flesh.  We see Jesus, a little bit clearer, for who he is.  But we see him not with our eyes, but with our ears.  We listen to the gospel accounts.  We give close ear to his teaching.  We read and hear and learn and mark and inwardly digest his word. 

As Epiphany ends, and as Lent begins, we too must come down the mountain.  The shine will wear off quickly, and the ashes of repentance appear again.  We go with Jesus, these 40 days, as he sets his face toward Jerusalem.  There’s plenty to hear, as we listen to him. Some of it hard, unpleasant, quite challenging.

But in it all Jesus prepares us for our own departure.  He is calling and forgiving us, comforting and strengthening us for that day when we, too, will stand with him in glory.  That day, beyond our own grave, when we receive a resurrection like his.  That day, when God’s declaration of Christ is also applied to us for eternity, “this is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased”.  And so the transfiguration also gives you a glimpse of your own future, in Christ.

Dear Christians, as always, look to Jesus.  Listen to Jesus.  And find the glory of salvation in Jesus, and in Jesus only. 

Sermon - 6th Sunday after Epiphany - Matthew 5:21-37

Matthew 5:21–37
“You Have Heard It Said”

I love neo-logisms.  Those little words and expressions that pop up here and there in modern life – many times to describe something that just needs a word of its own.  One of my favorites is “selective listening”.  A condition that seems most common among teenagers and husbands, but is really common to all sinners.  We all hear what we want to hear, and don’t hear what we don’t, even when it comes to God’s word.  And even if you hear it, does it go in one ear and out the other?  Do you practice selective listening?  Or maybe it’s selective obeying.

Jesus touches on four topics today – and with each he begins with the same phrase “You have heard it said” and then contrasts the statement with “But I say to you…”  He’s not just offering his opinion on these matters – something that we can take or leave.  He speaks with all the authority of the Son of God himself, the Word that has become flesh, the very living Word of God.  And so we must not practice selective hearing when it comes to Jesus.  We must note what we have heard, and also especially what he then says to us.

St. Paul used another word picture to speak about people who only want to hear what they want to hear – he said they have itching ears.  And they accumulate preachers to themselves who will scratch that itch – say what they want, what makes them feel good about themselves, or at least not make them feel bad.  Save us all from this kind of preaching, dear Jesus!

So what does Jesus preach about in this last of our readings from the Sermon on the mount?  As the Epiphany season winds down, we’ve already heard many answers to the question, “who is Jesus?”  Today, Jesus answers a closely related question, “so then who am I to be, as one of his people?”  There’s a lot of talk about Christian living, the sort of so-what-now of the faith.  And we will do our best this morning to listen to it.

But we will also give ear to the words of Christ which answer his words of law – and consider how the same Christ who speaks the law so that we hear it well, also speaks words of comfort and peace in his Gospel.  It’s not a word that comes screaming through in this particular section of the Gospels, and so we may have to make some connections, draw in some other words.  But remember the words of any scripture passage are always to be taken in context  - and that context is always the whole counsel of God.  We never ignore the chief teachings of Jesus, even as we give ear to other things he taught.

So enough introductory stuff.  Let’s get to the heart of it.  Today in our reading, Jesus teaches us, his people, about anger, lust, divorce, and frivolous oaths.  Each of these is forbidden in the Old Testament.  Pointing them out as such is nothing newsworthy.  Indeed, “You have heard it said”.  What’s astounding is that Jesus raises the bar on these laws, makes them even harder to attain or fulfill.  And if we recall what he said last week, that’s a bit of a problem, because anyone who breaks the least of these commandments will not enter the kingdom of heaven!

Take first of all anger.  Jesus quotes the fifth commandment, prohibiting murder, and applies it also to anger!  Anger is murder of the heart.  Insulting another – murder of the mouth – calling a brother a fool – even just being angry – makes one liable to judgment, and even the hell of fire!  But anger is a breeding ground of sin, and it breaks relationships between God’s beloved children.  Who are you to be angry at someone for whom Christ shed his precious blood?  Rather, consider God’s own anger at your sin – and rejoice that his wrath is placated by that same blood of Christ.  If God’s anger is turned away from you by Jesus, then the Christian can pray forgiveness for our own anger and strength to put such anger away.

Or secondly, lust – Jesus begins with what they’ve already heard – you’ve heard it said – do not commit adultery.  But he raises the bar – he sharpens the point of the law – so that this sin extends to the eye and the heart.  Like every other sin of thought, word, and deed, we are accountable to God.  And the cure is extreme amputation – if your eye or hand causes you to sin – cut it out or off!  Better to go into life without them, than with them into hell.  Of course the problem is far worse, since all of our members, and even our heart itself contribute to our sin.  So how about cutting everything out and off?  Does that mean the only cure for us sinners is really death itself?  Yes – death, and life.  Being buried with Christ in baptism, so also to be raised with him.  Dying to sin and rising to new life in Jesus.  Living each day by repentance and faith, under the cross of Christ.

And let’s not pass over so quickly the threat of hell!  An eternity of punishment that is the just sentence on all who rebel against Holy God.  But neither let us forget this is Jesus talking – he who conquered hell.  He suffered its pangs on the cross, and trampled its powers under foot, descending there to proclaim victory – for himself, and all who are in him. 

His third topic is divorce – here, to, Jesus hammers the law.  Even though, already in his day, the standards of divorce had been loosened, Jesus points us back to the law.  He equates it with adultery.  Breaking a marriage is breaking a marriage.  An official document can’t paper over the 6th commandment.  If we live and act like divorce isn’t sinful, and if it’s just something that happens like one day it rains and one day it’s sunny – if we relax the law for ourselves or others – we put ourselves at odds with Jesus. 

But the Gospel of Jesus is the opposite of adultery – it’s about faithfulness.  He is faithful to you.  He is faithful to his promises.  He keeps them – even until death, and even beyond.  One day we’ll see the fruition of all his promises at the marriage feast of the lamb in his kingdom, which has no end.  There, and then – all that is broken and adulterated by sin will be forever restored. 

And finally oath-taking.  Maybe not a sin we consider much in our modern context.  It seems in days when oaths were commonly offered, there also many swore falsely.  But Jesus says to avoid all that fuss anyway – and just let your yes be yes and your no be no.  You ought not swear by heaven or earth or Jerusalem, or on your own head.  None of these are yours to swear by anyway.  Don’t make grand promises on things you can’t control.  Rather, simple honesty, straightforward words of yes and no are the hallmark of the Christian.

Let God take care of the oaths.  Let him make the everlasting covenant.  The promises that cannot be broken.  The words that can never be revoked.  God swore by himself to Abraham – that he would keep his covenant.  He would bless all nations through Abraham and his offspring.  He, God, would make children of Abraham where there were none – he’d make them out of stones if he had to – for his word cannot fail, his promise cannot be broken, his guarantee of Messiah must come true.
And of course it did.  The Jesus who was born to fulfill prophecy, who was baptized to fulfill all righteousness, who preached and healed and cast out demons, who came not to abolish but to fulfill the law and the prophets – is the Jesus who died on a cross.

You have heard his Gospel, too.  You have heard it said, from faithful pastors and teachers and parents and grandparents.  You have heard it said, when you were baptized into the name of the Father and Son and Holy Spirit.  You have heard it said, when your sins were forgiven by a servant of the Word.  You have heard it said, when Jesus’ own words are spoken over bread and wine that is his body and blood – you have heard it – that this is for the forgiveness of your sins.

So no selective hearing for the Christian, but hear everything God speaks to you.  You have heard the law – you’ve heard it from Moses, more strongly from Jesus, and even have it written on your heart.  That law speaks only condemnation.  It speaks justly. It condemns us all.

But thanks be to God for that other word.  You have heard the gospel – the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ.  You have heard how he fulfilled the law for you.  And you have heard that he shed his blood and died for you.  You have heard his many comforting promises.  Hear that same Gospel again today.  Receive the same grace, again, today.  And even as you come to his table for the feast – hear those words anew and for you – given and shed for you, for the forgiveness of your sins.

Sermon - 5th Sunday after Epiphany - Matthew 5:13-20

There’s really two main thoughts in today’s Gospel reading.  In the first section, Jesus encourages Christians to be who they are – the salt and light of the world. 

In the second, he shows his relation to the Law and the Prophets – that he came not to abolish but fulfill them.

This is all part of his famous Sermon on the Mount.  He speaks here, first of all, to his followers, those who give ear to his teaching, and by extension, to us Christians.

Let’s take the first section first – salt and light.  Two earthly things with which everyone is familiar.  Two very different parts of creation – but both with something in common – they have a purpose, a function.  They do something. 

Salt, sprinkled through the food, both preserves and gives flavor.  And light, well, it lets you see.  It shows things.  Jesus says Christians are both salt and light.  But notice first how he speaks about it – he doesn’t say, “Be salt and light”  but “you are”.  That is, you already are these things, you are this way.  Salt can’t help but to be salty, and light can’t help but to shine.  So already in the grammar of Jesus there is a promise. 

Christians will do good works.  They are as natural for the new Adam within us as breathing.  Good works are like the breath of faith – exhaling in the direction of our neighbor.  Or another way of putting it is God does good works through us, or uses us to do the good works he has prepared for us to do.  His light shines through us.  In any case, however, we never crow about our good works or boast in them.  As Jesus says, they are done to give glory to your Father who is in heaven. 

But the Christian is not only New Creation.  He is also Old Adam.  He is a saint, but he is also a sinner.  He isn’t always as salty or shiny as he wants to be.  And so we also need the law.  If all we ever did was believe and trust, we’d not need the law’s direction, curbing and guidance.  But because we are also still plagued by this sinful flesh, this body of death, we also need the threats and condemnations of the law.

So, Jesus also says, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets.  I have come to fulfill them”.  Jesus seems to mean here both the Holy Scriptures, and also the law – as in that category of teaching – like law and gospel.

There is a tendency in some Christian circles to abolish the law.  Whether purposely or unknowingly, some Christians would disregard or dismiss the Old Testament.  “We are a New Testament Church” some would say.  But this seems based on a false idea that the Old Testament is irrelevant to Christians. 

There is also a tendency in some circles to disregard or dismiss the law – as in the commands, the statues, the rules that God has set forth.  The 10 commandments, which have been degraded into suggestions, if that.  The old and antiquated and not so important to know and to live by.  In a way, any time we sin we turn our back on the law, we “abolish the law”, or at least we act as if it doesn’t apply to us. 

But rather than relaxing the law, Jesus raises the bar.  Rather than diminish its demands, he amplifies the law.  He emphasizes it all the more.  He says not an iota or a dot – the smallest of markings – will pass from it until all is accomplished.  If you break even the least of these commandments you will be least in his kingdom.  And he draws attention the most righteous men around, at least in earthly terms or in most people’s minds, and he says even their righteousness isn’t enough.  You need to follow the law, more closely, more righteous-ly.  Yes, even down to the last little mark of it.

Why so extreme, Jesus?  Would some call him a legalist?  Who can live up to such a standard?  It’s unreasonable.  How can Jesus make these demands that we can never live up to?  Shouldn’t we relax the law a little bit and make it more attainable?  How about instead of following the commandments perfectly, I just follow them for the most part?  Let’s make the law like horseshoes and hand grenades, where close enough is good enough.  Wouldn’t that be better, Jesus?

But no.  There is no slacking on the law, with Jesus, or his Father.  There is no loosening of standards or winking at sins, grading on a spiritual curve.  He says be holy as I am holy.  Unless your righteousness exceeds the Pharisees you will never – never – enter the kingdom of heaven!

That never would be for you and for me and for all people – if this was his only word on the matter.  If Jesus’ teaching on the law was all he taught, he would be a terrible savior, a peddler of despair, a prophet of doom and gloom.  But Jesus speaks another word. 

He says, “I have come to fulfill the law”.  He has come to fulfill the Old Testament.  And he has come to fulfill the commandments.  And this is very good news indeed.
He has come to fulfill all the Old Testament promises and pictures, for these are the scriptures that testify of him. 

He’s the seed of the woman that crushes the serpent – that’s Jesus. 

He’s the bronze serpent raised up by Moses that we might look to him and live. 

The Son of David that would reign over his house forever – that’s Jesus. 

The Suffering Servant in Isaiah – Jesus.

He is the one forsaken by God (Psalm 22), encircled by dogs, hands and feet pierced, crying out in thirst.   

The Jonah that comes back after three days in the belly of death – Jesus. 

The one born of a virgin, born in Bethlehem, the Savior of the Nations, the Glory of Israel – Jesus. 

He is the Joshua that conquers our enemies. 

He is the Priest in the order of Melchizedek.

He is Yahweh of the burning bush. 

The Lamb of the Passover who saves by his blood. 

He is the Lord of Hosts and Ancient of Days.

He’s the faithful husband that Hosea patterns himself after.

He is the very Word of Creation now made flesh. 

He fulfills the Law and the Prophets by his incarnation, as true God and true man, by his words and his works.  He does it all, every detail, and does it well – even perfectly.

He also fulfills the Law and Prophets in the sense of perfect righteousness.  He fulfills the commandments – and he does it for us.  He loves God perfectly, with all his heart, soul, strength and mind.  He loves his fellow man with a love greater than all – a love that would even lay down his life for friends and enemies alike.  He had no other gods.  He honored God’s name.  He remembered the Sabbath and kept it holy.  He honored father and mother.  He never murdered, committed adultery, stole or lied.  He was content with whatever God gave him, including even his cup of suffering.  Jesus never broke the law, but always fulfilled the law with perfect love for God and man.

But he did this not as an example for us – or at least not primarily so.  If that’s all he was but a super-model of morality, that would only make it worse for us.  We’d look even worse in comparison.  But he fulfills the law for us.  He is perfectly righteous for us.  Yes, he died for us – but he also lived for us – to earn for us the credit of all his good works.

So while your righteousness doesn’t exceed the Pharisees, or qualify you for the kingdom – Jesus’ righteousness does.  And the good news is that he gives you his righteousness.  He takes your sin to the cross, and he gives his perfect, spotless record of righteousness to you.  And with the righteousness of Christ – the kingdom of heaven is yours.

So be the salt that you are and the light in the world.  Let the light of your faith shine in the good works God sets before, to give him glory and in love for your neighbor.  Rest secure in the righteousness of Christ, which far exceeds any other righteousness, and is yours by grace through faith in him.  In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

Sermon - The Purification of Mary and the Presentation of Our Lord

Luke 2:21-24

Today we have a bit of an unusual churchly observance – one that many of us may not even know much about – (and I’m not talking about Lutheran Schools Week).  It is the feast of the Purification of Mary and the Presentation of our Lord.  It’s an occasion that falls, on the church calendar, always, 40 days after Christmas, on February 2nd.  Christians have been observing it as far back as the 4th century AD.

Some churches also call it “Candlemas” and bless their candles for the year on this Sunday.  And some churches also see it as the traditional time to take down the Christmas decorations (although as you can see we’ve already done that here).  And another tradition in some places is to eat pancakes or crepes on this day.  Yum.

But what’s the application?  But what does this all mean for us, today?  Let’s get to the bottom of it this morning.

To understand what sets the stage for this festival, we have to understand some Old Testament background. 

In the Old Testament – things existed in various categories – Holy and Common, and Clean and Unclean. This was all part of the sacrificial system that God established for the Israelites at Mt. Sinai. 

Something could move from one category to another at various times, for various reasons.  And sometimes that re-classification meant a special rite or ceremony was involved. 

First, let’s consider the holy versus the common.  Most things in life were considered common.  Things were made holy (or set apart) when they are dedicated to the service of God, or set aside for a special purpose from God.  Sometimes individuals were made this way, like Samuel in our Old Testament reading.  The people of Israel were, in a sense, a holy nation (as the church is, today).  We are set apart.  The Levites, as a tribe, were set apart as the priests. And then you also had various things, like the furnishings of the tabernacle that were holy – set apart – for the service of Yahweh.

We have a sense of the holy, also, today.  Though people seem to have less of it.  We still speak of holy places, like churches, holy men.  We have Holy Baptism, Holy Communion, and Holy Absolution.  Some people even still continue to recognize “holy matrimony” is special and set aside.  We wish more would see it that way.

When it comes to the presentation of our Lord, this first part of today’s observance, Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the temple because he was the firstborn.  And God had declared that every firstborn male in Israel was holy.  So what’s that all about?

It began with the last of the 10 plagues in Egypt which brought about the Exodus.  That plague was the slaughter of the all the firstborn in Egypt.  God sent the destroyer that night, and the firstborn of the Israelites would also have been killed if not for the blood of the paschal lamb on the doorposts.  God then declared, that in remembrance of this mercy, all the firstborn males from Israel going forward were holy to him – set apart. 

The Lord said to Moses,“Consecrate to me all the firstborn. Whatever is the first to open the womb among the people of Israel, both of man and of beast, is mine.” (Exodus 13:1-2)

And though set aside, or made holy to the Lord, God also provided a means to redeem the first-borns, much like he did during the Passover – and that would, of course, require a sacrifice….

“When the LORD brings you to the land of the Canaanites, as He swore to you and your fathers, and gives it to you, give the LORD every firstborn, also every firstborn of your animals; if they are males, they belong to the LORD. Redeem every firstborn donkey with an animal from the flock, and if you don’t redeem it, break its neck. And redeem every firstborn of your children. In the future when your son asks you, ‘What does this mean?’ tell him, ‘With a mighty arm the LORD took us out of Egypt, where we were slaves. When Pharaoh was too stubborn to let us go, the LORD killed every firstborn among men and animals in Egypt. This is why I’m sacrificing to the LORD every firstborn male and redeeming every firstborn of my children.’ Make this a sign on your arm and a mark on your forehead, because the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty arm” (Ex 13:11-16).

This is why Mary and Joseph brought Jesus to the temple that day – to present him as holy to the Lord, and to offer the sacrifice of redemption according to the Law of Moses.

And so Jesus who is our redeemer, is thus redeemed.  And they make a sacrifice for him who is the one true sacrifice.  And soon, when he is a grown man, the Holy One of God from eternity, the firstborn of all creation, and also the firstborn of Mary, would redeem all who are under death’s shadow by his sacrifice on the cross, and his blood shed there for us.

We, now, in Christ, are “presented” as holy.  We see a picture of this in Revelation 21, as the bride (the church) is presented to the bridegroom (Jesus).  Paul describes it in Ephesians 5:

 “Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” (Ephesians 5:25b-27)

And so we see that everything Jesus does, even as a baby, he does for us.  And it all points forward to his saving work on the cross, his victory over death, and our final reward with him in perfection of eternity.

And then there is the other half of this observance, the Purification of Mary.

We’ve already talked about the categories of holy and common, but now we need to consider the distinction between clean and unclean.  Most things in everyday life were common and clean – but a thing could become unclean in a number of ways – especially by contact with death, disease, or blood.  For instance, lepers were unclean, and had to even cry out “Unclean! Unclean!” as people approached them.  Touching a dead body made one ritually unclean.  And of course, childbirth also made a woman ceremonially unclean – mostly because of the discharge of blood involved.

And so the presentation of Jesus in the temple was also done in conjunction with the ritual for purification for Mary following childbirth—and to give a sacrifice according to what has been said in the Law of the Lord, a pair of turtledoves or two young pigeons.  Leviticus 12 specifies a period of 40 days following the birth of a boy as a time of cleansing for a mother (for girls, it was extended to 80 days).  And so here we are, February 2nd, and count 40 days back and you’d be at Christmas.

And so Mary was cleansed, like every Jewish mother, by the blood of a sacrifice.  Luke makes a special point that Mary and Joseph used the option that was provided for poor families who couldn’t afford a lamb – they offered two small birds instead.  But soon all those sacrifices would stop.  They would stop because the temple would be destroyed and the Jewish people scattered.  But more importantly they would stop because the Old Covenant is fulfilled in Christ, because the blood of Christ becomes the cleansing for all – and not just the ceremonially unclean, but for all of us who are soiled and stained in sin.

Jesus cleanses us.  It’s an easy concept to grasp, even for a child.  Children are taught very early on to wash their hands before dinner, to take a bath, and not get too dirty playing outside.  It’s just good hygiene.  But all the more in spiritual terms, where we are by nature polluted in the filth of sin.  Though your sins were as scarlet, they are whiter than snow – in Christ.  Though your robes were soiled – they are washed clean in the blood of the lamb. 

And so the blood of Christ makes us clean, not of dirt, but of sin.  So also Christ, who is holy, makes us holy.  He both washes away all sin, and makes us fit to stand in God’s presence, even for eternity.  The Christian is therefore not simply forgiven, but made an heir of future glory, and a citizen of heaven.  All by the precious blood of Christ – the once and for all sacrifice for sin.

So this seemingly obscure and offbeat church observance really isn’t that out there after all.  For it reminds us Christians what we already know – that cleansing and redeeming and holiness all come from Christ alone.  Thanks be to God that Jesus does all of this for us.