Sermon - Lent Midweek 5 - Holy Baptism

Holy Baptism

Matthew 28:16-20

“To Jordan Came the Christ, Our Lord” (LSB 407)

We’ve been considering, during this midweek series, the Small Catechism of Martin Luther along with some of his “catechism hymns”.  Luther wrote many hymns, hymn texts, hymn tunes and updated old tunes to align their theology with Scripture.  He wrote hymns for his German Mass – to take the place of the Kyrie, Gloria, Creed, Sanctus, etc.  He wrote hymns that were metrical paraphrases of the Psalms.  And he also wrote hymns specifically to teach the doctrine of the Catechism – and this one is one of those.  It bore an original heading, “A spiritual song of our Holy Baptism, which is a fine summary of what it is, who established it, and what its benefits are”  Luther involved many others in his production of hymns, poets, theologians and musicians, and none more prominent than Johan Sebastian Bach. 

This particular hymn was written late in Luther’s career, sometime in 1540 or 1541, in conjunction with a couple of sermons on the topic of Holy Baptism.  But it wasn’t until 1962 that it was translated into English and heard on the radio – as part of the Lutheran Hour program.  Then, in 2004 a new tune was written to go with it – the tune our congregation has become familiar with.  So we have quite a little history wrapped up in this little hymn.

But beyond that, just on its own terms, the hymn is an excellent sermon on the doctrine of Baptism. 

Verse 1 tells us about Christ’s baptism, which Luther then uses as a springboard to teach about our own baptism.  Jesus comes to baptism to do his Father’s will, or pleasure.  In His baptism, Jesus the “Father’s Word” is given us to treasure.  It is, as it were, his ordination as Messiah – God sets him aside as the one appointed to do his will – the one Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world.  Luther doesn’t wait till verse two, but immediately connects Jesus’ baptism to the cross.  Of course, Jesus does the same when he tells James and John that he indeed has a cup to drink and a baptism to undergo.  Luther refers to it this way: “And by his blood and agony release from death’s oppression”

You see, Jesus’ baptism is part and parcel of his death on the cross.  They go together.  They may be separated by three years but they are all bound up together and inseparable, indivisible.  But so too is Jesus’ baptism and your baptism.  And so too therefore, Jesus’ cross and your baptism.  Paul says, “we were buried with Christ, by baptism, into death”.  These waters run deep, and drip with blessings.

Verse 2 begins rehearsing the main teachings of the Catechism about Holy Baptism.  Here we have the question, “What is baptism?” which Luther answers, “[it’s] not just plain water, but the water included in God’s command and combined with God’s word”  or sung in the hymn, “Our Lord here with His Word endows pure water freely flowing”.  It is the word of God that makes baptism baptism.  It’s not some power of the pastor, or magic incantation.  It’s not some special process our mystical ritual done to the water.  But rather the word takes center stage, and the promises that word holds out to us in baptism.  It is Christ’ own charge to “Go and make disciples of all nations… baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  And here, in baptism, the Holy Spirit our kinship here avows.  That is, baptized into the name of God, we are incorporated into him, made one with him, as close as family.

Verse 3 and 4 return to Jesus’ baptism and the voice of the Father which commands and invites our trust in Christ, and in the word he has spoken.  The Trine God was present that day and on full display – the Father’s voice, the Spirit’s descent, the Son standing in the water.  So, also in our baptism, we receive the name of the Trine God “assuring us with promises compelling”.

Verse 5 re-tells the “Great Commission” of Matthew 28, the chief passage in the New Testament concerning baptism (also my own confirmation verse).  There Jesus commands the 12, as they go, to make disciples of all nations.  And the making of disciples has two verbs – to things to do – baptize and teach.  Here Luther also shows that baptism incorporates repentance – that is that we would “abandon sin and come in true contrition”.  In the catechism he expounds that baptism, for the Christian, is a daily event, drowning the Old Adam by repentance and faith. 

Baptism is, in this way, very much what the Christian life is all about.  A daily renewal, an ongoing cycle of sin and grace, law and gospel, repentance and forgiveness. 

Verse 6 is a stern warning that Baptism is a gift that can be thrown away, cast aside.  Just as faith itself can be.  Apart from the grace of God, the gifts of God – given in Word and Sacrament. People, of course, try to do this – through works (that must fail), through striving, that can’t succeed, and by pious acts that may look very religious on the outside, but have no power to save.  There is no other way of salvation than that comes by the blood of Christ, the gift of God’s free grace, and all that comes to us, through the waters of baptism.  With Christ we have everything.  Apart from Christ we have nothing, and worse.

And verse 7 shows us that Baptism hold far more gifts and blessings than the eye can see.  Only the perception of faith can unfold the power of baptism.  It is the power of Jesus blood – that brings healing to all our ills.  It reveals the love of God, and assures us of pardon. 

We can hardly say enough about the blessed gift of Holy Baptism.  We can scarcely do it justice.  We can sing of it, teach it to our children, confess it, and live it.  We can remember this divine flood of blessings every day. 

And what a better reminder of it than that common everyday thing – water.  Luther said, “when you wash your face, remember your baptism”.  In these days of everyone trying to stay clear of a nasty virus, washing our hands perhaps like never before – what a good time to remember your baptism!  With every squirt of hand sanitizer (if you still have any), why not give thanks for the sanitization of our soul?  With every trip to the sink to wash your hands – why not sing a hymn, say the Lord’s Prayer, and give thanks to the one who has saved us through the waters. 

Dear Christian, you are baptized.  Your baptism connects you with Jesus, who by his baptism united himself with you.  And if we have been united in baptism, then we are also united with him in a death like his, and we will also be united with him in a resurrection like his.  Yes, baptism is the seal that marks you as one destined for resurrection, and life in heaven forever.

All that, packed into a little water and some simple but powerful words. 

As we inch ever closer to Holy Week and Easter, we consider all that Christ has done for us.  How he suffered and died for the sins of the world.  Of course that includes you and me, and all people.  But in Holy Baptism, he gets personal.  He calls you by name, and makes you his own, and bestows a flood of blessings.  Thanks be to God that you and I are baptized, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon - Lent 4 - Ephesians 5:8-14

“Darkness and Light”
Ephesians 5:8-14

All of our readings today deal with, one way or another, the topics of darkness and light.  In the Gospel reading, Jesus heals a man born blind.  In the Old Testament, God speaks of what Israel (as a people) are blind to see.  And Paul’s words to the Ephesians this morning speak of darkness and light – and what is visible and exposed by the light.  This morning, we’ll focus especially on the reading from Ephesians.  But first some broader comments.

Darkness and Light are two of the most important and most universal pictures in Holy Scripture.  They are experiences common to us all.  So much of what God’s Word teaches us uses familiar and everyday examples – things like family, food, water, and agriculture.  They are conditions so much a part of our everyday life that we hardly think much of them.  And yet, even with all our modern science, there are many things about light that are still mysterious.  The speed of light is a barrier that physics says cannot be broken.  Light acts as a wave or as particles, depending on whether it’s being observed.  There’s a host of puzzling properties and questions that quantum physics has raised concerning light – that still remain to be unraveled.  Still, light is something so common and everyday that we all basically understand how it works, and why it’s important.

Darkness is, in a way, the default.  We could see nothing without light.  In the darkness, we’d be lost.  We’d be fumbling around without information about our surroundings.  We couldn’t make use of our eyes, our vision.  Without light, we would be effectively blind – like the man Jesus healed in our Gospel reading. 

For us, especially as children, darkness is a place of fear.  It represents the unknown, and the place where unsavory and fearful things lurk.  Many of us, even lately, have used darkness as a metaphor for the unusual times we are living through – and at least for now, the near future seems a bit clouded in darkness.  How much longer before we can get back to normal?  Just how bad will the disease turn out to be?  Dark times, indeed.  Lord, have mercy.

Darkness and light take us back to the beginning, the very beginning, when in the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.  And the earth was formless and void.  It was dark.  And God said, “Let there be light”.  The very first words God spoke are words of creation – and words that created light.  God then went on, during that week to both separate the light and the darkness, and to create great lights to govern the day and the night, and also the stars.  And by the way, what a testament to God’s almighty power, that the creation of the stars – in all their countless numbers and unfathomable variety and order – all God created, and Genesis mentions it with but 4 words – “and also the stars”.

Light continues to be an important gift from God throughout the Scriptures.  Think about the pillar of fire by night – in which God made his presence known among the people.  The golden lampstands of the tabernacle.  The Sun standing still to extend the daylight so the Israelite army could defeat their enemies.  Or in the New Testament – the light from the Star of Bethlehem, or the light that shone from Jesus at the Transfiguration.  We could go on and on.

But more than that, light stands as a symbol and reminder of the true light that God bestows through his Holy Spirit.  The One who calls, gathers and en-LIGHT-ens.  The one who shines the spotlight on Jesus, by setting before us the Gospel light.

Here we pick up St. Paul in the Epistle reading today – who works these metaphors some more.  He says, “at one time you were darkness”.

Not you were sitting in the darkness (though we could say that too).  Not you were under the cloud of darkness.  Not you were alone in the dark of your sins.  You WERE darkness.  It’s emphatic language.  In this one little phrase Paul expresses just how deep our condition of sin really is, or was, rather, before Christ saved us.  Each of us is conceived and born into that darkness, and just as much a part of it as the rest of the sinful fallen world.  Each of us can do no good, claim no righteousness or merit.  Of our own devices we don’t have a glimmer of hope or a ray of light to offer. 

But in the same breath Paul throws open the sash on the gospel.  You were once darkness, but you now are light in the Lord.  The same strong metaphor holds.  If you are in the Lord.  If you are in Christ Jesus.  You are light.  You’re not just en-light-ened.  You’re not just able to see, eyes-wide open. You’re actually light – so closely identified with the Lord himself who is the source of that light.  And for sure, that’s how God sees you – in Christ.

That light dawns on the world in the Son of God made flesh and born in Bethlehem.  The light shines in the darkness, though the darkness has not understood it, John’s Gospel puts it.  But then, on those who sat in darkness, a light dawned.  In the land of darkness, the land of Zebulun and Naphtali, a light has dawned.  That’s the region of Galilee.  Jesus made his public appearance, and was hailed by John the Baptist. 

He preached and taught for three years until the time was right, until the hour of the power of darkness, until he was betrayed, arrested, mocked, beaten, tried, convicted, condemned, and crucified.  That dark day was the darkest of them all, as even the sun’s light failed and darkness reigned for a time.  God’s own Son died in bitter agony at the hands of wicked men, alone but for the helpless few onlookers and the criminals condemned beside him.  And Jesus gave up his Spirit.

They hastily buried him in a borrowed tomb and sealed it shut – leaving his cold clay in the darkness of the grave, thinking they’d seen the last of him.  It seemed the darkness had won.

But then the bright beams of Easter dawn burst forth.  Then the Jesus who died broke the bonds of death, as easily as light scatters darkness.  He brought life and immortality to light – for you and me and for all who are in him.  Now our future is bright.  Now our destiny is in glory.  And one day, when we join him in that heavenly kingdom, we will no longer need a lamp or sun, for there will be no night there, and God himself will be in our midst and be our light.

We were darkness, but now we are light in the Lord.  And we have the gospel of Jesus to enlighten us to faith and life in him.  Paul also encourages the Ephesians, and all Christians thereby, to bear the fruit of light.  That is, all that is good and right and true.  Stay away from the darkness – don’t return to it.  That’s the place where sin lurks and hides.  But rather, live in the light, be of the light.  Let the dark deeds of sin be exposed by your confession of it, and God’s absolution will scatter them all away.  Let your fear of death and grave be blasted away by the light of the Gospel which bathes even the darkest corners of fear in the love of Christ Jesus. 

And then this last little encouragement from Paul:

 “Awake, O sleeper,
and arise from the dead,
and Christ will shine on you.”

We don’t know exactly what he’s quoting here, but it has been suggested it’s perhaps from an early baptismal hymn.  Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead!  That’s just what has happened to us in our baptism.  God rouses us from the sleepy death of sinfulness to the bright morning of faith – even brought to new life in those blessed waters.  This is the first resurrection.  And those same words will apply again, when on the last day, the trumpet call of God and the shout of the archangel accompany Christ’s own command for us to rise from our graves, and join him in life eternal.  This is the second resurrection. This is the shining of Christ on you.

Dear friends, I encourage you again, to fear not in these times of darkness.  Do not fear this disease, for even if the pestilence takes you and your loved ones, we have a hope beyond death.  Do not fear the darkness of uncertainty, for we have all the certainty we need in Jesus Christ.  Do not fear the wrath of God as punishment for your sins, for though he allows troubles to come, he also promises to see us through them and be with us every step of the way.  No matter how dark the days get, the dawn is promised.  The light will come, for it already has, in Christ our Lord.  Now be the light he has made you to be, and bear the fruit of light, in all that is good and right and true. 
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Sermon - Midweek Lent 4 - The Lord's Prayer

Midweek Lent Vespers
"The Lord's Prayer"

And so we come to the third Chief Part of the Catechism, the Lord’s Prayer.

It’s a good time to talk about prayer.  It seems a very widespread reaction, amongst God’s people, and even in our culture at large – in times of peril and tragedy, uncertainty and crisis – that most people’s impulse is to pray.  Even our president declared last Sunday a national day of prayer, for whatever that is worth.

For Christians, especially, it seems these troubled times are a good excuse to do what we ought to be doing anyway – pray fervently.  And so we have, and so we will continue to do.

But often, people who mean well to pray, express a frustration with it – that we don’t pray as we know we should.  That we don’t pray as often, as fervently, or for the right things.  In times of uncertainty we may not know exactly what the best prayer is.  For instance, a loved one who is suffering greatly with what appears to be a terminal illness.  Christians have asked me, “Is it ok for me to pray that God would take my loved one and end their suffering?  Or should I be praying that they would be healed and stay with us on earth?”  Or how about the person who struggles with anger and hurt at some injustice done to them.  Do they pray for justice, or mercy for the wrongdoer?

We are sinners, after all, and why shouldn’t sin infect every aspect of our life, including our prayer life?  Why should we expect, corrupt as we are, to know how to pray, what to pray for, or really any of what is best for ourselves and others?

What a blessing it is that our Lord Jesus Christ himself teaches us to pray.  What better teacher for our prayers could we have?  What better, more perfect prayer could we think of than one composed by the Son of God himself? Far better than any heart-felt words or well-meaning prayer we could concoct by our own devices, these 7 petitions sum up the entirety of our faith and teach us so much about the God to whom we pray it.

It is a model prayer – showing us “how” to pray, both in its structure and priority and also by its content.  It is a prayer that seeks first the things of God, his Name, his kingdom and his will… before turning to ask for the things we personally need:  daily bread, forgiveness, and protection from evil.  And in this way is very similar in structure to the Ten Commandments – which teach us first to love God, and then on the second table, to love our neighbor.

And even the introduction to this wonderful prayer holds out a precious promise for us – when Jesus tells us to call upon God as our Father!  We should consider ourselves God’s children, and ask him for what we need – just as an earthly child asks an earthly father for his needs.  We might think of Jesus remarks, “if you then, though you are evil, know how to give good things to your children, how much more then… will your Father in heaven give you good things?”

I’m reminded of a story an old pastor once told about his son who had a toy truck with a broken wheel.  The son left the truck on his father’s garage work bench with a note, “Dad, can you fis dis?” So the Christian comes in faith to our Father in heaven, not knowing when our how, but trusting the goodness of our Father to hear and answer.  Believing that he knows best, and will do what he knows is for our good.

Luther’s hymn on the Lord’s Prayer is also an excellent instructional tool.  It both paraphrases and expounds on the Lord’s prayer.  Each stanza is built around a single petition, and echoes the teachings of the Small Catechism:

Verse one reminds us that God is “our” Father, and that makes us Christians a family, that we should pray in unity.

Verse two shows that God’s name be kept holy by teaching his Word, and includes the prayer that God keep us safe from false teaching. 

Verse three we pray that the kingdom would come by the work of the Holy Spirit.  As in the catechism, “God’s kingdom comes when he breaks and hinders every evil plan and purpose of the devil, the world, and our own sinful nature.” For these spiritual enemies are opposed to God and don’t want his name hallowed, or his kingdom to come.  And so also, we pray for the church – where God’s reign on earth through the Gospel is manifest from age to age.

Verse four asks, along with the third petition, that God’s will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.  Here we see a most important point from the Lord’s prayer that answers many a Christian’s vexation about what to pray for.  When I don’t know what God’s will is – simply pray that it would be done.

Verse 5 may be particularly meaningful for many of us in our current context – praying for daily bread.  Wherein we pray that God would give us what we need and save us from dangers and trials of “hardship, war and strife, in plague and famine spare our life”.  That Jesus who teaches us to pray for daily bread also promises to provide it, and points to the sparrows that God feeds each day, and aren’t you worth more than many sparrows?  Luther also mentions in the hymn the twin dangers of “care and greed” – that God would spare us from worry about tomorrow’s needs, and keep us from greed for more than we need, but to be content with those blessings he provides.

Verse 6 begs God for forgiveness, and for the strength to forgive others who hurt us and sin against us.  While God’s forgiveness of us sinners is not contingent on our forgiving others – as if God’s waiting around for us to forgive everyone else before he will forgive us – yet Jesus often connects our own forgiveness received with the forgiveness we show – as he does in the Lord’s prayer.  So also in parables and sermons, Jesus emphasizes the great need for Christians to forgive others – as a true expression and exercise of our faith, and the forgiveness, love and mercy God first shows to us.

Verse 7 of Luther’s hymn tracks the 6th petition in praying against temptation.  Luther is especially good when it comes to the devil, the Old Evil Foe he calls him in that other famous hymn.  Here, “the grim foe and all his horde would vex our souls on every hand”.  And yet Jesus and Luther both teach us that we cannot stand under temptation alone – but need God the Holy Spirit to lead us, strengthen us, keep us firm in faith in the day of temptation. 

Verse 8 considers the final petition, “Deliver us from evil”.  Luther calls this a summary petition – that God would deliver us from all evils of body and soul.  That he would give us all the things we have just prayed for in the above petitions.  In the hymn we sing, “The times and days are perilous”.  And it’s as true now as it was a month ago, in 1536 when they first sang this hymn, and in Jesus’ day when he first taught and gave us this prayer.  Deliver us from evil, Lord.  The days are evil.  Sin is always with us.  The devil is always prowling.  The world is heaving and churning, corrupt and corrupting.  We need saving, now, as always.

Thanks be to God for our Lord Jesus Christ, the giver and teacher of this prayer, and the one who accomplishes our deliverance from evil.  He does so, himself, by submitting to evil.  By enduring the cross and despising its shame.  He takes his place of isolation – as God the Father turns his back and forsakes his Son unto death.  He made him to be sin, and condemned that sin to die in the flesh of Jesus.  All scorn and sorrow, all grief and shame, all the devil’s seething rage and spite.  Jesus bore it all.  Suffered all.  Died for all. 

So now, when we yield our dying breath, we can do so in the peace of his deliverance from evil – know that death has no hold on us who are in Christ.  For he has defeated it.

Finally, the church adds this little word to so many of our prayers – Amen!  It’s a word of confirmation. A word of faith.  Yes, yes, it shall be so!  We can pray our prayers in confidence, especially the Lord’s Prayer, knowing that the one to whom we pray will hear and answer.  That he means us well.  That our dear Father receives our prayers for the sake of his beloved Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.  Hear us for the sake of him who has taught us thus to pray.  Amen, that is, so shall it be.  In Jesus Name. Amen!

Sermon - Lent 3 - John 4:5-42

John 4:5-42
“More than Small-Talk”

Smalltalk – commenting on the weather, inquiring about the wife and kids, “how ‘bout them Packers” and such. There have even been books written on the fine art of small-talk. But it’s something most of us do without thinking. But then, sometimes small talk gets bigger.

Most of us have also had a conversation or two, which we might call pretty “deep”. Maybe it was a late night heart-to-heart, or a long car-ride somewhere. Maybe it started with something common enough, but ended up with ultimate questions like, “where is my life going?” “what is really important here?” “what’s the meaning of it all?”

Oh the turns and twists of conversation… as John walks us through Jesus’ dialogue with the Samaritan woman. As we reflect on this important conversation, we might ask what Jesus is also saying to us, this morning.

I suppose you could say, it started out with small-talk. Jesus, the true human that he was – hungry – had sent his disciples to get food. Tired, he sat down to rest, and thirsty, he asked the woman who had come to the well for a simple drink of water. It was an everyday situation, or so it seemed.

What caught the woman off guard is not that a stranger would talk to her, but that he was a man. Men didn’t usually acknowledge women, and especially for a Jewish man to make small talk with a Samaritan woman – well, let’s just say this was a bit of an odd couple. Jews and Samaritans, Men and Women – people who didn’t usually speak at all. But Jesus was full of surprises that day.

Just as intentionally as he opens this unexpected conversation, he directs its course. First asking her for water, he gets her attention by tapping a subject deeper than the well. He offered her “living water”. What did he mean by “living water” – well, simply, quenching the thirst of the soul. He himself, the Savior, is that water – the forgiveness he brings, and the life he gives – the spirit he sends – everything, all of it, is the living water of which Jesus spoke. She didn’t understand it, how could she, but she was intrigued. After all, coming to this well everyday was hard work, and not being thirsty anymore sure sounded good to her.

Jesus intrigues us with the Gospel too. He offers us something. Maybe we don’t understand it at first so well either. But we know we are thirsty, that we have a need. We want to hear more about this “living water” too. But rather than explain it, Jesus applies it. He begins to give her the living water – that is, exactly what she needs. He changes the topic. He goes from the tame topic of water to the uncomfortable topic of sin…

“Go get your husband”. “I have no husband”. “No, you had 5 husbands – but the man you are living with isn’t your husband is he?” Jesus cuts to the chase, cuts through the veil of polite conversation, and gently but firmly and directly points the woman to her sin. He is about to give her the living water, but the first part of this is to lead her to see the need, to remind her of the real thirst – for forgiveness.

When our weekly conversation with Jesus called worship begins, we too are reminded of our sin. The liturgy points us to our own sins just as surely as Jesus exposed the woman at the well. Our sins are many and varied, thought, word, deed, sins done, and sins by leaving things undone.

Perhaps we are beset by a certain sin, a glaring weakness or problem in our life. Perhaps we are caught in a sexual sin – perhaps even the same sin as this Samaritan woman – living in sin with someone who is not our spouse. The sin of fornication.  I’m sure the woman at the well had her justifications for living with this man who was not her husband… but Jesus wasn’t having it.
Whatever our sin, it may seem there is no real way out. Perhaps we make excuses for our sin, or take comfort in the fact that society endorses it. Perhaps we console ourselves with the old argument, “Yeah, but look how much worse the other sinners are…” Maybe we just don’t think it’s such a big deal.

But Jesus would beg to differ. Jesus does not overlook sin, he comes to address it. He calls the sinner to repentance, and applies the forgiveness won by his blood.

Whatever our sin is, it is never comfortable to speak of. Though some don’t even like our very general corporate confession made in worship – not wanting to admit to even being a sinner – most of us have no problem doing so. But if anyone were to ever point to a particular sin, might our reaction be a different story? Might we get defensive? Might we shift the blame, or make excuses? Or might we, like the woman at the well, seek to change the subject?

Now, she wants to talk about worship. “I see you are a prophet!” Let’s argue religion. Now the woman too breaks one of the cardinal rules of polite conversation and brings up religion. Some have suggested she was avoiding talking about her sin. Perhaps. Others have said this is a tacit confession, that yes, Jesus, you are right about my sin. Now let’s talk about how I can be cleansed. What sacrifices do I need to make, to whom, and where – to get this all taken care of. Let’s talk religion.

Whatever the woman’s reason for turning the topic to places of worship, she had certainly opened another can of worms. For Jews and Samaritans disagreed deeply over religion. Jews worshipped God at the temple, where He had promised to dwell. Samaritans set up their own temple, their own places of worship, and thus made for themselves a new religion, really.

The Samaritan religion used only the first 5 books of the Old Testament. Is it any wonder that Jesus said, “you Samaritans worship what you do not know”? But more than just scold her for faulty religion, Jesus moves beyond the Samaritan/Jewish distinction, and announces a new era of religion where worship is not bound to geographical place. Worship in Spirit and Truth – will be coming, and HAS NOW ARRIVED in the Messiah, He, himself, Jesus Christ.

All this sounds good to the woman, and she makes a sort of confession of her faith. She looked forward to the coming Messiah, who would explain it all.

Jesus responds, “I who speak to you am He”, and by doing so, he “opens the floodgates of living waters” The woman comes to faith, and even testifies to her entire town, inviting them to come and hear this man of amazing words. But more amazing than the small-talk, even more amazing than the prophetic wisdom, was the announcement of God’s grace and mercy in the arrival of the long awaited Messiah, who had arrived on the scene with his gift of Living Water.

Jesus takes the question of true religion, right worship, and how to deal with sin –
And he again changes the subject. Now instead of where, or how, or even what – the real question is WHO? And Jesus makes it clear – He is the answer. He is the way, the only way to the Father. He is the Truth, by which we receive the Spirit and know the Father. And He is the Life – the Living, Life-giving Water that he offers is His very self – crucified for the woman at the well, and for the Samaritans, and for the Jews, and for all people, and for you and me. HE is the life that conquered death by rising to life again – and better than a fountain of youth, his resurrection guarantees eternal life for all who believe.

As we, the people of God, gather once again this day around the well of His grace in Jesus Christ, we cherish again the Living Water. We acknowledge the gifts given in the Baptismal waters, in the Holy Meal of his own Body and Blood, and in the very Word of Truth we are blessed to hear. More than mere small-talk, the words of Christ are powerful, precious, eternal, and true. They point out sin, they forgive sin, and they bring life and faith. We, who have heard these words today, confess with the ancient Samaritans of Sychar, “have heard for ourselves… that this man really is the Savior of the world!”

Sermon - Midweek Lent 2 - The Ten Commandments

Exodus 20:1-17

The Ten Commandments.

This Lent we are looking at the 6 chief parts of the Small Catechism with a special emphasis on Luther’s Catechism hymns. 

Last week, Ash Wednesday, we took up the 5^th chief part – Confession – as it fits the penitential emphasis of that day, and is a good place to begin the season.

However, today, we are back to the beginning of the Catechism, with the first chief part – the Ten Commandments.

You may have heard how Luther wrote the Small Catechism after he completed a visitation of the parishes in Electoral Saxony.  He made those visits over two years, from 1526 to 1528, and found that the education of the people was quite poor, and also the financial support of the clergy was sorely lacking.  One historian writes:

What he (Luther) and the other visitors found there shocked them. Most preachers were sound doctrinally, but others were not, nor were all provided for sufficiently. They found a laity that was lacking in strong moral conviction. But what bothered them the most was the absence of basic doctrinal knowledge, such the ability to recite the Apostles’ Creed or the Lord’s Prayer. This gave impetus to Luther’s drafting of the catechisms, modeled largely after a series of sermons delivered in May 1528 and published in 1529.

And yet, you may be surprised to learn that this hymn of Luther’s, written about the 10 Commandments, dates from 1524 – a couple of years even before he discovered how bad the catechesis was!  Which serves only to show just how important it was for the reformer that people know and are familiar with the commandments.  Contrary to some who accused Luther and his followers of teaching against the law – we have always had a high regard for the law, and particularly, the 10 Commandments as a most excellent summary of it.

The hymn specifies that Moses received these holy 10 commands “for our good”.  And this is no small statement.

Some seem to think that the law is bad.  Certainly we can see why.  It makes us feel bad.  When God says “do this” and I see, clearly that I do the opposite, my conscience kicks in and tells me I don’t measure up.  When the law says “the soul that sins shall perish” and I observe that I, in fact, do sin, then I must conclude that I, too, will perish (if that were the only word we hear from God). 

The law also curbs sin – it keeps us from going too far off the reservation, it keeps sin in check, it keeps it at least somewhat under control.  And so I know, that even though I want to, there are things I can’t do.  I am limited.  If not for the sake of love, then out of fear of punishment.  And that, too, can make someone think the law is bad – because it’s a kill-joy, a downer, it keeps us from doing whatever we want.

But the law is, indeed good.  The commands are good.  It’s the word of God, after all.  It’s only bad in the sense that it condemns us because we break it.  But that’s not the fault of the law – it’s our own sin that does that.  The law is good.  And it would hold no terror for us, if only we could keep it.

And even though we don’t keep it – it is still good in that it offers a right and true diagnosis of our condition.  It shows our sin.  Like the doctor who sits you down to tell you the bad news – but it’s good that he tells you – so that you can proceed to the treatment!  Similarly, the 10 commandments are an essential spiritual diagnostic, to prepare the sinner to receive the medicine, that is, the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  For what good news is it, to know that Christ died for your sins, if you don’t know your sins, or that you are a sinner?  This is the chief function of the law.

So while it stings to hear it, we must give thanks to God for the accusations of the law, the pointing finger, the spotlight it shines on our own faults and failings.  For only in the light of day can we both see and deal with the problem.  Only when sin is confessed does absolution come, and the Spirit is renewed in Christ.  If we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just, will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

And look at this, even in a hymn about the law, rehearsing each and every one of the Ten Commandments, we still see an expression of Gospel with the refrain, “have mercy, Lord!”  Yes, we have a God of mercy, a God of lovingkindness, a God of grace – who does not look at our sins or count them against us – all for the sake of Christ.  Indeed the hymn concludes, “Forgive us, Lord!  To Christ we flee, Who pleads for us endlessly, have mercy, Lord!”

We Christians know that God does, indeed, have mercy on us poor sinners.  Of course we know That’s what Jesus Christ is all about.  We know that Jesus died on the cross to procure forgiveness for all our breaking of the commandments.  Even the youngest little Christians can confess it:  Jesus died for me.

But let’s not forget that just as much as Jesus died for us, he also lived for us.  “But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons.” (Galatians 4:4-5)

Jesus Christ, as true man, can stand as our substitute under the law.  He can fulfill the law, perfectly, for us, and as true God make that righteousness count for us all.  It’s like the smartest kid in the class who takes the test, gets 100%, and then somehow gives you his grade!  Jesus fulfills the law perfectly, he fulfills all righteousness for us, he covers us in his own righteousness.  So when God looks at us, he doesn’t see all the law-breaking we do – but he sees all the law-keeping Christ has done. 

And yet, while the law always accuses us, it does not only accuse us.  While it always shows us our sin and failure, it also shows us the right way forward.  It is a curb, a mirror and a guide.  And it is this third use or function, as a guide, that is particularly for Christians.  I know my sin, but I also know the forgiveness of Christ.  Now, how do I live?  What shall I do?  What is the will of God in this or that aspect of life?  These questions the law also answers.  Yes, “You have this Law to see therein that you have not been free from sin” (that’s the accusation, the mirror function).  “But also that you clearly see, how pure toward God life should be” Yes, the law also shows us the way the life of a believer should be.

And so we love God, and love our neighbor – for the sake of Christ!  We strive to keep the law, even knowing we won’t do it perfectly, but in the confidence of Christ’s forgiveness.  The motivation is all different for the Christian.  We’re not trying to keep the commandments because we HAVE to, but we joyfully respond to God’s love by showing that love in our lives.  We’ve been made anew by the mercy of God in Jesus Christ.  We have died to sin in our baptism.  We have been adopted as sons and daughters of the King.  Why would we want to live any other way, than according to his will?

Luther even wrote, in the section of the Catechism about daily prayer, that after our morning prayers we should, “go joyfully to our work, singing a hymn, like that of the Ten Commandments, or whatever your devotion may suggest”. Maybe he even had this hymn in mind.

And so, we love the law of God.  We consider it as good and right and true.  It’s worth knowing and keeping in our hearts and minds.  It’s something to live by.  And we teach it to our children.  So that they too can learn by heart the holy commands of God.  The law will always accuse us, and show us our failure.  But we have a God who always shows mercy in Christ, and has kept the law for us.  So live in his mercy, and delight in his Holy Ten Commands. In Jesus’ Name.  Amen.

Sermon - Lent 1 - Matthew 4:1-11

“Garden and Wilderness”
Matthew 4:1-11 (Genesis 3:1-21)

Today is the first Sunday in the church season of Lent. It is a penitential time, in which we focus seriously on our Lord as suffering servant, paschal sacrifice, a man of sorrows. It is a time of deep and somber meditation, in which we also reflect on our sinfulness, though not forgetting his mercies in Christ.

This 40 day period of Lent traditionally begins with the Gospel reading about Jesus' 40 day period of temptation in the wilderness. And so we have Matthew's account of it today. And our lectionary also, very purposefully, chooses the Genesis account of man's fall into sin as the Old Testament passage for the day. What a wonderful pairing, as we reflect today on the first Adam and the Second Adam, and on the garden and the wilderness.

So much of what Jesus does is loaded with meaning. We can never underestimate the significance of his actions for us. Immediately after his baptism, the Spirit drives Jesus into the wilderness for a time of fasting and temptation. This is no coffee break. The rugged terrain was not hospitable for human existence. But the spiritual terrain was about to get even rockier.

Jesus is tempted. Satan himself takes the challenge, sending no mere underling demon to do it.  This is an epic contest, a battle for the ages.  The adversary had what he saw as a golden opportunity here to finally do what he’s always wanted – to usurp the king.  This confrontation between the Son of God and the Old Evil Foe was not the first time or the last time Satan would do battle and lose, but he saw a shot at it here.  For now the Son of God is humbled.  He’s in human form. He’s subject to temptation.  And the devil knows how to do temptation.

He finds Jesus near the end of his fast, presumably at his hungriest and weakest.  He tempts him first with physical food. And the bells should be going off as we read this.

For Satan once tempted another human with food – famously – in the Garden of Eden. The forbidden fruit. From the tree of knowledge of good and evil. There Satan succeeded in his efforts, and woman and man fell into the misery of his company. Ever since, the tempter had been harassing the children of Adam – drawing and enticing them – us -- to all kinds of evil.

The Devil’s temptation is very real. Don't think that he doesn't bother with you. If the evil one has the audacity to challenge the Lord Jesus himself, don't think somehow you are off limits.

And he will often do so when you, too, are at your weakest.  When you are suffering.  When you are alone.  When you are far from the word and surrounded by worldliness.  The devil chooses his victims carefully and picks his battles with great shrewdness.  Like a lion looking for the wounded gazelle to devour.  He wields his weapons of temptation with expert prowess. And he’s been at it for a very long time.  So don’t think you can stand up to him on your own.  Deep guile and great might are his dread arms in fight.  He is crafty and powerful.  A dangerous foe.

True, we don't know really when it's the devil providing the temptation, for it may also be the sinful world or our own sinful self to blame. But nonetheless, our adversary delights in seeing us sin, in trying to fill our bellies and souls with anything that is not good or good for us or for our faith.
But Jesus can, and does withstand the attack. When the devil tempted hungry Jesus with bread - “Man cannot live by bread alone”, Jesus counters, but man does live by the Word of God. Jesus doesn’t rest on his own divine power or authority, though he could have.  He rather reverts to reliance on the Word.  It’s all that is needed, after all.  And it also shows us the way to counter temptation.
Jesus was victorious over the Tempter. We can only find victory over temptation through him. And we can only find forgiveness for our failures in him, and we can only live in and by his word.

Yes, in his word. The forgiving word of absolution. The promising words of the Lord's Supper. The claiming words of his own name placed on us at baptism. This word is the true food of wisdom, for he himself, is the very bread of life. We do not live on bread alone, that is earthly bread, earthly food.  It may keep the body going for a while but it does nothing to enliven the soul.  But the bread that Jesus provides – the bread of himself – gives life.

There, in the Garden of Eden, the first man and the first woman broke the first command at the first temptation. There, death, spiritual and physical, first came into the world. What a dark day it was. Perhaps the worst day ever. The beginning of all your bad days was there.

But then, there was also hope. For in the midst of the curse, even before he curses man and woman, God makes a promise, that one day the woman's offspring, her descendant, her seed – would crush the head of the serpent.

Now it comes true.  Let the battle begin.  Here, in the wilderness, the gloves are off, and Satan's first confrontation with the Savior ends decisively. Not once, but three times, the tempter is foiled. Three times he is defeated by the word of God, spoken by the Living word. And no small victory this was – the first time a human had ever faced the devil and won. In the reversal of Adam's fall, the Second Adam, Jesus Christ, comes to restore what was lost in Eden, to bring life to a land of death, hope to despair, and victory to those lost in sin. Now it was the tempter whose day was ruined.

That victory in the wilderness foretold, of course, of an even greater victory on another dark day. When the serpent's head was truly crushed under the weight of the cross. When Jesus death on the tree erased the sin that came by the tree of knowledge. When the fruits of the forbidden tree were put away for all, forever.

And then, in the garden where they laid him in a borrowed tomb, Jesus would rise to life again – thus guaranteeing life to all his people. So death, that interloper which came with sin into the Garden of Eden is made no more in the garden of the resurrection.

Adam and Eve were banned from paradise, evicted from the garden for their sin. They were made to go outside the domesticated fruit groves of Eden, pleasing to the eye and good to eat – cast out into the wild of thorns and thistles. And an angel with a flaming sword barred the way back.

But Jesus goes willingly to the wilderness. Away from food and comfort and he goes alone. He goes there to bring us back from the wilderness of our sins. To rescue Adam and Eve and all their children, restoring us to paradise. No fire-brandishing angel bars the gate for us any longer. Instead they sing at his joyous birth, announce his blessed resurrection, and they will accompany his return in glory.

As our forty day Lenten sojourn begins, the mood is thoughtful, serious, even perhaps tense. We go with him into the wilderness. We come face to face with sin and temptation, and recognize our powerlessness before the old evil foe. But Jesus has won the victory. He defeats the devil in the Judean wilderness, and in the garden of resurrection. He restores paradise and all that was lost in sin. He brings life again. Welcome back from the wilderness. Welcome to the garden, in Jesus Christ, Amen.