Saturday, April 18, 2020

Sermon - Easter Sunday - Matthew 28:1-10

The Resurrection of Our Lord
Easter Sunday, April 12, 2020
Matthew 28:1–10


Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!)

There’s plenty of death in this world.  Although it’s not usually front and center like it’s been these last few weeks.  Every day the news tells us new “death counts” and “mortality rates”.  The pundits and politicians offer various interpretations of numbers, bandy about this model and that model.  And of course we have the much talked about curve which everyone wants to flatten.  But what’s behind all of this is death.  The very real possibility that you, or I, or someone we know and love will actually die.

And if the virus doesn’t get you, something will, because sin already has.  What the crisis has simply done is remind people what’s been lurking in the shadows the whole time.  That unless Christ returns first, all who sin will die, and all sin, so all will die.  Death is the common denominator of us all.  It may be years, or it may be tomorrow.  Denial and distraction don’t change the fact. 
But Jesus does.  And Jesus will. 

This day – Easter – is the highest celebration for us.  It is our triumphant holy day, alleluia.  It is the best, because death is destroyed.  Jesus leaves death in the dust, and he opens the way to life for us all.  He is the firstborn of the dead who will bring with him many others.  Easter is our great joy, even amidst pandemic – especially amidst this pandemic - because Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!)

The two Marys who had watched his burial on Friday arose early that morning.  They went to finish the grim job of a proper burial, after the hasty measures taken late Friday before sunset.  The Sabbath rest prevented them for a day.  But the clock was now ticking, and they got to it as soon as possible.  They had seen where he was buried.  They even saw the stone rolled to seal the tomb.  But they had no plan for how to roll it back to finish the burial rites.  It turns out they wouldn’t need one. 
The same earth that quaked at Jesus death now rattled again as a mighty angel came down from heaven.  He had an important task, a glorious mission.  He rolled the stone away and sat down on it.  This was not to let Jesus out, but to let the women and the others in to see.  For the angel’s mission was as a herald of good news.  He came with the good news, the best news that ever could be:  Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!)

His appearance was like lightning and his clothes white as snow.  Purity and power in the service of God – angels are fierce, fearsome soldiers in the heavenly army.  But it only took one to make the human soldiers faint.  Ah, yes, the guards at the tomb.  As if anyone or anything could stand in the way of what was happening.  If death itself cannot hold Jesus, could a detachment of Roman guards stand in the way?  No, they became as dead, even as Jesus rose to life.

The angel then spoke to the women.  “Do not be afraid.  I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified.  He is not here, for he has risen, as he said.  Come, se the place where he lay.”
Do not be afraid, ladies.  For the same angel who casts grizzled soldiers into fainting fear comes with good news of great joy for you and for all who would mourn.  He comes with a word that is all the opposite of fear could be – a word of hope and joy and victory.  A word that becomes a chorus for all Christians who rejoice at death’s undoing:  Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!)

You seek Jesus who was crucified.  Ah yes, not just, “You seek Jesus”.  But the crucifixion is part and parcel of who he is.  There is no Jesus without the cross.  And it also goes right along with this, his resurrection.  Without the resurrection, that crucifixion really was the end of him.  But without the crucifixion, nothing else matters.  His death put sin and death to death.  His body broken and blood shed secured pardon and peace for his people.  Then it was finished.  Now is the victory dance, the confirmation and proclamation of such.  Now we see the implications of it all – an empty tomb that gives us a preview of our own.

He is not here.  Overturning the finality of death – Jesus is not where they were seeking, where he would have been, had death had its way.  He is not here, bound in death’s strong bands, oh no, he’s stronger than that.  He is not here, where they left him, where they put his cold clay.  He is alive and well.  He will never die again.  Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!)

And he is risen, “just as he said”.  You know, Jesus said a lot of things, taught and preached, parables and sermons, beatitudes and woes.  He condemned sin and forgave it.  He called for repentance and commended faith.  But of all the things he said, perhaps the most striking was his prediction of all this – his death, the manner of his death, and even his resurrection on the third day.  Of all of the amazing and wonderful and out-of-this-world predictions, none could ever approach this one.  And though he spoke it plainly, and said it repeatedly, his disciples didn’t listen, didn’t believe.  They rebuked or ignored or just didn’t get it. But here it is.  Here is the angel.  And there’s the open, empty tomb which bears witness.  It’s just as Jesus said.  It’s always just as he said.

And what that means – is that you can always believe everything Jesus says.  It means he will never lie or be disproven.  He always knows what he is talking about, has the authority to say it and back it up.  When he says your sins are forgiven, you can believe it, Christian!  When he says, he who believes in me will live, even though he dies – you can take that to the bank – and to the grave – and beyond.  How do we know Jesus speaks the truth?  Because he called his shot – he promised to defeat death and delivered.  So will he deliver on each and every word and promise to you, to me, to all.
“Come, see the place where he lay” the angel went on.  You and I weren’t there to see the evidence, but the women were, and later the men.  There really was no body.  He really had risen.  This was the first of many convincing proofs Jesus would give them over the course of the next 40 days.  Proof that he is alive, bodily resurrected, never to die again.

Even better, they would see Jesus!  Matthew’s account here is short on the details, but as they are running back from the tomb to go and tell the disciples, Jesus meets them and greets them.  His very presence, alive and well, is more than enough reason for joy!  They humbly grasped his feet and worshiped him.  Again he calmed their fears and charged them to tell the good news to the disciples.
What joy it will be when we meet Jesus. 

Sure we’ll be with him in paradise when we die.  We will rest in peace, when our spirit is commended to the hands of the Father.  But think about the joy we will have when we rise from the dead, and at your resurrection you meet the Firstborn of the dead.  When in the flesh, he stands upon the earth, and you see him with your own eyes.  And it will happen.  Jesus has promised it.  For if he can defeat death for himself, he can certainly, and will surely do it also for you.

Dear Christians scattered out and hunkered down, it is an unusual Easter, one that we will remember.  While our lives are on hold, our pocketbooks uncertain, our so many plans up in the air – there is still great cause for joy. 

Our greatest enemy is defeated, and Jesus stands the victor.  Do not fear death – for it now lies in ruins.  Do not despair in your sins, because they are no more.  Rather, rejoice and be glad for Christ is risen!  (He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!)


Saturday, April 11, 2020

Tennebrae Meditations - Good Friday


The First Word:  Luke 23:34
33 And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. 34 And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”[b] And they cast lots to divide his garments.

Forgiveness is hard for us.  When we are hurt, injured, or even just slighted by another.  We tend to hold grudges, keep score, and indignantly desire or demand just desserts.  We want our pound of flesh.  We want eye for eye, tooth for tooth, blood for blood.

But not Jesus.  He prays, “Father, forgive them”.  An indictment to all of us in our unforgivingness of others.  A model for us to follow, when others harm us.  But more than that, a true prayer, from his heart of mercy.  A demonstration of purpose, that tells and interprets for us what this cross is all about.  Forgiveness for the sinner.  Forgiveness from the Father, procured by the Son.

Only in this cross are they forgiven, are you forgiven, is anyone forgiven by the Father.  And so Jesus’ prayer is answered.  Thanks be to God.  Glory be to Jesus.

The Second Word:  Luke 23:43
39 One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him,[d] saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” 43 And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Paradise.  It sounds so good.  What could be more of a contrast from this dark day on a hill outside Jerusalem.  The grim business of a public execution.  A couple of ne’er do-wells and a troublemaker from Galilee are put to torturous and humiliating death.  Life is cheap.  Those in power are cruel.
Added to the bitterness of it all, is the injustice.  This Jesus.  He doesn’t belong here.  He doesn’t deserve this. Criminals do.  These two thieves knew their sins.  But Jesus was innocent, if anyone ever was.

That didn’t stop the mockery.  From the Jews, from the soldiers, even from the fellow condemned.  But then the one thief spoke up for Jesus.  “Don’t you fear God, man?  We’re under the same sentence, and getting what we deserve.  But this man has done nothing wrong”.  Truer words than he himself probably knew.  But on this day many spoke truth from strange places.

And then the prayer, the request of the faithful, a prayer echoed by Christians ever since, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”.  The response is immediate, compassionate, and unconditional, “Today you will be with me in paradise”. 

This veil of tears will end.  This life’s suffering has a limit.  Paradise awaits all the faithful ne’er do wells do die with Jesus.  Thanks be to God.  Glory be to Jesus.

The Third Word:  John 19:26-27
26 When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” 27 Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.

His mother and his beloved friend.  It only added to the bitterness that they of all people had to see him like this, see him dying.  A mother’s heart broken, a sword piercing her own soul.  And beloved John, who so recently leaned on Jesus breast while they broke bread together, the lone faithful friend to the end who now stands deathwatch.  What a scene.  What a sorrow.

But it also gives Jesus the opportunity to further show love.  Even as he suffered so much, still his thoughts were turned to others.  “Woman behold your son.  Son, behold your mother”.  Jesus cares for his people.  It’s what brought him here in the first place.  His love, compassion, mercy, brought him from heaven above to earth below, to be born of a woman, born in human flesh.  That love which drove him to be baptized for us, tempted for us, to have compassion on so many.  To teach and preach and heal and feed.  And now, to suffer and die.  He cares for you, even you, even to the point of death.  Now care for each other. Thanks be to God.  Glory be to Jesus.

The Fourth Word:  Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34
46 And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

The darkest word here, the word of his deepest suffering.  God the Father forsakes his beloved Son.  The human mind cannot comprehend the magnitude of this spiritual mystery.  How can it be?  That God the loving Father could do this to his only, his beloved Son?  Sharing a perfect unity from eternity.  United in will and purpose.  The Son begotten of and perfectly obedient to his Father.  And now this?  Oh darkest woe.  He made him to be sin, for us.  And then he did to sin what God does.  He casts it away from himself.

But in this deepest suffering is our surest deliverance.  In bearing the wrath of God fully, drinking it down to the last vile drop, Jesus spares us the same.  He shields us from the flames of fury, as he himself is consumed.  He keeps us from being severed from our Father, as he himself is cut off.  He bears the anger so that God lifts up his countenance upon us, and makes his face shine upon us.  God has forsaken Jesus on the cross, and so God will never ever ever forsake you.  Thanks be to God.  Glory be to Jesus.

The Fifth Word:  John 19:28
28 After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), “I thirst.”

He thirsted.  On the one hand a very human thing.  He’d lost a lot of fluids.  Blood.  Sweat.  It’s science, really.  And it added to his suffering, to be sure.  Most of us have never had such a thirst, and hopefully never will.  But Jesus wasn’t asking for a sip to relive his thirst.  He would endure the full measure of suffering appointed.  Recall earlier, when they offered him wine mixed with gall to drink, he refused.  That was a mild sedative to ease the pain, a small mercy the Romans afforded to the condemned.  Jesus would not have it, even that.  So why this drink?  Why ask now?

Two reasons.  One, to fulfill the scriptures.  Every last detail of his suffering must be complete.  Nothing forgotten.  Nothing left undone.  It is perfect, not only in the worthiness of the sacrifice.  But even in the execution down to the very last element.  Jesus knows exactly what he’s doing, why he’s doing it, and for whom.  And you can trust that this sacrifice he’s making is therefore fully sufficient for every last sin of yours, and mine, and everyone.  Jesus fulfills all righteousness, even here, even in his last moments.

And secondly, he is taking a sip to prepare for his next word.  Just as a parched preacher might take a quick sip from the water they put here in the pulpit.  So Jesus wants to be sure he is heard in this final declaration he’s about to make.  Stay tuned for the next word.  A loud declaration that demands our attention.  Thanks be to God.  Glory be to Jesus.

The Sixth Word:  John 19:30
30 When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

It is perfect.  It is complete.  It is entirely and thoroughly and fully accomplished.  It is finished.  It, being his mission.  His sacrifice.  His saving of the world.  His destruction of death.  His victory over sin.  His procuring forgiveness for all.  His blood-price paid, our redemption won.  It is finished.  Sin is finished.  Death is finished.  The devil is done.  Mission accomplished.  Game over.  Forever and ever.  Amen.

Friends, there is perhaps no greater declaration that has ever been made than this one.  One word in the Greek – Tetelestai – the most important word ever spoken by the most blessed speaker on the holiest of holy days as he accomplishes the greatest work ever done.  It. Is. Finished.
When sin plagues you, remember what Jesus says.  It is finished.  When the grave terrifies you, hear Jesus say, “it is finished”.  When you wonder if God can ever love someone like you, someone who’s such a mess, someone as weak and false and craven and duplicitous and jealous and angry and snide.  Put all that aside.  Because Jesus has.  It is finished at the cross.  And be at peace in him.  Thanks be to God.  Glory be to Jesus.

The Seventh Word:  Luke 23:46
46 Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last.

He gives up his spirit.  It’s not yanked away, but given freely, just like his love for you.  He submits to death, and puts the final nail in death’s coffin.  He dies peacefully, now, knowing that all is accomplished.  His work is done.  His suffering ended.  The prize is won.

And so for you.  He died in peace, so you can depart in peace.  He committed his Spirit to the Father, and your spirit will also return to the Father in him.  The Christian can die in peace, and rest in peace, because we are in Christ.  Where he goes, we go.  Even in death.  Even into the Father’s hands.  His safekeeping.  His watchful care.  Until the time is right.

For Jesus, it would be three days of rest in the tomb.  Not even three whole days, as we would count them, but just as much as was appointed and not a minute more.  Death would break forth into life.  It was just around the corner.

For you, Christian, it’s much the same. You go into the ground also knowing a resurrection is in the offing.  Your spirit may rest in the Father’s hands a bit longer, but Christ was raised, and we too will rise in him.

And now we rest.  And we watch.  And we wait.  We know how the story ends.  And it does not end here, with death, but in life.  Thanks be to God.  Glory be to Jesus.

Sermon - Maundy Thursday

A blessed Maundy Thursday evening to you, the saints of God, scattered and dispersed from our usual gathering.  What a year it has been, what a few weeks.  And what an unusual Holy Week for the Christian church.  Never before has whole world faced a pandemic such as this – and responded with these kinds of measures.  Never before has the whole church around the world been relegated to virtual gatherings like this via technology – gatherings which aren’t really gatherings, but are the best we can do under the circumstances.  And for it all to happen leading up to Holy Week and Easter is even more of a cross for us to bear.

And then of all things, the elephant in the virtual room tonight which we must address – a separation from Holy Communion.  Especially on this night, in which the Sacrament of the Altar takes center stage – for it is the commemoration of the very night when Jesus was betrayed and instituted the Supper.  It is a cross to bear to not be able to gather.  It is an involuntary fast which we all wish had never happened, and that we want to end as soon as possible.

We know that some churches have gone ahead and found ways to offer the Lord’s Supper even under these circumstances.  We are not faulting them, or standing in judgment.  But our church leaders have chosen a path of even more caution at this time.  These are difficult choices to make, and we are not even all of one mind in making them.  I know that some of you feel the absence of the Sacrament more keenly, and are perhaps even angry that we do not offer it at this time.  I humbly ask you to bear with your pastor and Elders as we seek to balance the concerns for people’s health and safety with our very real need for the gifts Christ gives us.  We are doing the best we can with the wisdom God has given us.  And we believe that this will be a short time of separation, and look forward to returning to the altar soon.

But still there are blessings in this time.  There are lessons to learn and re-learn.  It is often in times of crisis, suffering, challenge and hardship that faith stretches and grows.  As St. Paul puts it: 
Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,  and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:3-5)

And furthermore, as we keep mentioning, God bestows his grace in various means.  It’s not only the Lord’s Supper, but also in Holy Baptism and in the Absolution, the Word preached and taught, and even in the mutual conversation and consolation of the brethren.  So we are not in a total desert, entirely cut off.  Thanks be to God! May we treasure these gifts all the more, even as we wait and pray for the pestilence to pass.

Tonight, let us consider God’s word in that vein.  Looking at the appointed readings for Maundy Thursday we have two main emphases.  First and foremost, of course, is the institution of the New Testament in Christ’s Body and Blood.  Secondarily, Jesus teaches his church about servanthood, by demonstrating service himself and washing their feet.  He says, “A new commandment I give you… love one another”.

In both of these cases, Jesus brings something new.  In both cases the word “New” modifies what he establishes.  A New Testament in his blood.  And a new commandment.  But in neither case is it really entirely new.  In the Lord’s Supper, Jesus begins with the Passover meal.  And in the “New Commandment”, well, the law has already taught us to love each other in many ways – and even Jesus himself had previously summarized the commandments as such – Love God.  Love your neighbor.

So what’s so new about each of these?  I would submit to you that the new-ness here is similar to that of the Good News itself, the Gospel.  Here’s a message that isn’t new to you – you’ve heard it many times, perhaps all your life.  Jesus lived for you.  Jesus died for you.  Jesus loves me this I know.  For God so loved the world he sent his only Son.  Your sins are forgiven in Jesus. 

And yet each time we hear it anew – we are renewed.  Each time we return to our baptism in repentance and faith – the Old Adam dies and the New Man arises.  Each time I confess my sins and am absolved, God creates in me a clean heart, and renews a right spirit within me.  The Gospel of Jesus Christ renews and restores the spirit, it refreshes us and recreates us – a living word that brings life even from death.  And he does it again and again and again, and it never gets old.

Likewise the grace given in the Lord’s Supper – is both old and new.  God’s plan for salvation in the body and blood of Jesus is very old.  He is the Lamb that was slain from the foundation of the world.  He is the seed of the woman promised before the flesh of the forbidden fruit had even browned, the foot to crush the serpent’s head and absorb the venom in his bruised heel.  He is the one of whom all the scriptures testify, for whom all of God’s people had waited, and in whom all of God’s promises of old are fulfilled. 

The Passover was but one picture of him.  But what a picture it was!  The Lamb slain, a perfect and without blemish lamb, sacrificed as darkness fell.  That lamb’s blood was painted on the doorposts – the blood on the wood – painted up and down and painted across – even making a sort of sign of the cross.  The destroyer came, saw that blood, and passed over.  Judgment and death passed over.  God saw that the sacrifice had been made.  The blood had already been shed.  Justice had been satisfied.  And God’s people were therefore saved.

That Passover event was a new beginning for Israel.  It made them who they were, as a people.  It even became the beginning of their calendar year, by God’s command.  And it was then established as a continual remembrance of God’s deliverance.  In many ways, it defined the people of Israel as God’s people, both in its establishment and its continuance.

Ah, but Jesus takes what is old and makes it new.  He takes the bread and wine of Passover and establishes a new meal, a New Testament.  This is no longer just a picture and shadow of my body and blood.  Now, it is.  This is no longer a looking forward to his sacrifice – now, it delivers that very sacrificed body and shed blood to you.  This bread that we eat, this cup that we drink, is in not a participation in the very body and blood of Christ? It is the Passover in its fulfillment, in Christ.  It’s the real deal.  And yet, it is also a foretaste of an even greater feast to come, when we eat together at the marriage feast of the Lamb that has no end.  So like those ancient people, we look back, and we look forward.  In the Sacrament we remember what Christ has done, we rejoice in what he continues to do, and we hold fast to the promise of what is yet to come.

And then, yes, the New Commandment to love one another.  It’s no accident that this was given also on the night of his betrayal.  Jesus provides a powerful example of service to his disciples, whom he was about to provide the ultimate service at the cross.  He washes their feet.  And Peter balk and objects, Jesus says “unless I wash you, you have no part with me”.  That is to say, “Unless I serve you, you have no part in me.  If you seek to serve yourself, save yourself, justify yourself – it’s of no avail.  But rather submit to my serving.  Receive the humble gifts I give, even of my own suffering and death.  And you will be clean.”

Dear Christians, You are clean, because you have it all by faith.  You have the washing of your baptism.  You have the pronouncement of sins forgiven.  And so the new commandment is a joy to you.  “Love one another as I have loved you.”  A command we can only fulfill in faith, with his power by his spirit.  A command that takes the love he bestows and goes to do likewise.  A command that really isn’t new in some ways – for his Law has always taught us to love.  But it is new in that it flows from faith, from his love and service and sacrifice.  “If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them. . . .”

Another blessing of such love for one another is that it testifies of our faith.  Far better, in many ways, than preaching to hardened hearts is the silent witness of love that Christians show.  Just as Christ took up his appointed task of suffering and death silently, without objection or defense, so may we fulfill our vocations of love without complaint.  For no servant is above his master.  What’s good for Jesus, by his example, is good for us.

Christ is about to be glorified in his cross.  Where he is going, the disciples cannot come, but he goes there for them and for all.  The master lays down his life for the servants.  The Lamb is sacrificed for the people.  The Lord gives his body and blood into death, and so also under bread and wine for us to eat and drink.  Tomorrow the darkness.  Then Sunday the joy renewed with resurrection.  Let us fix our eyes on Jesus.

As we pray for our release from the pestilence and isolation, give thanks once more for the renewal of mind and spirit offered us by the means of grace.  Know that you are clean in Christ, and follow his example of love.  As we are apart from him now, for a little while, yet he is ever with us.  As the truths and gifts are given of old, so are they ever new in Christ our Lord. 



Monday, April 06, 2020

Sermon - Palm Sunday/Sunday of the Passion - Matthew 27:38-66


And so we come to it, the cross.  This Sunday is not only Palm Sunday, but the Sunday of the Passion.  It is the last Sunday before Easter.  It begins Holy Week.  Our solemn remembrance of Christ’s passion – his suffering, his crucifixion, and his death.  The Gospel reading today from St. Matthew takes us to the cross.  There we stand, virtually, through the Word of God, at the foot of the cross.  There we see Jesus and all that happened to him.  We become witnesses, through the Evangelist, of the darkest day, the day of God’s wrath, the day in which creation itself mourned the death of God’s Son.  But also a very necessary day for our salvation. 

Today I’d like to walk us through this text, and hold up various moments and details, many of which are worthy of a sermon in their own right.  Consider with me, St. Matthew, and all Christians everywhere, as we go to the cross with Jesus.

First, consider that Jesus is crucified between two thieves.  Numbered with transgressors.  Now of course this fulfills the prophecy of Scripture.  But there is more here.  From his very incarnation, the Holy Son of God is numbered with transgressors.  In taking on human flesh, he makes himself one of us, though he himself had no sin.  In his baptism, he does the same, now publicly, baptized to fulfill all righteousness, though he had no sins of his own to wash away.  Now, he hangs on a cross, condemned for crimes he did not commit, and for supposed blasphemy and sedition, and for who knows what trumped up reasons.  But he is numbered with sinners for God’s highest purpose, to take the place of sinners under God’s wrath.  To save sinners from themselves, from death and devil.  That cross is your cross, sinner.  And Jesus takes your place.  So that you, forgiven by his blood, take a new place at his side in life and in glory.

And speaking of blasphemy, that’s another thing that happens here.  But it’s not Jesus – it’s his enemies.  They mock and deride him by their foul words.  Wagging their heads and tongues at him.  Sneering and chiding.  Just look who joins in the jeering:  those who passed by, also the chief priests, the soldiers who stood watch, and even the criminals who hung beside him.  It’s as if the whole world is united in the devlish revelry.  There is no veneer of polite pleasantry.  There is no sham sympathy for a dying man, or even common decency.  The gloves have come off.  The true wicked nature is revealed.  The world is united against the Son of God.  The devil has his day.

But those enemies of Christ stand in for all the enemies of God.  All of us who bear the sin of Adam and the forked tongue of a sinful nature – we have spoken ill.  Our own mouths have mocked and derided the Holy One in various ways.  We are just as guilty.

But Jesus rather offers kind words.  He utters saving words.  He brings promises and forgiveness even to those who ridiculed him then, and speak foul things now.  His word is a better word.  His word of grace has the last word.

And at the sixth hour darkness falls, until the night hour.  From noon to three.  Some churches mark this on Good Friday with a 3 hour service called a Tre Ore.  Jesus marked it by crying out with the words of Psalm 22, acknowledging the sheer agony he faced.  The worst of it wasn’t the nails, the thorns, the mockery or shame.  It was being forsaken by his Father.  This is the true suffering of the cross.  Bearing the sins of the world.  Enduring the scorn of Holy God.  That he who knew no sin was made to be sin for us.  The object of all punishment, wrath, and condemnation.  A spiritual reality we cannot even fathom.  A depth of sorrow, by God’s grace, we will never know.  Oh, dearest, dearest Jesus who did this for us.

They filled a sponge with some sour wine and gave it to him (for he had said, “I thirst”) and he wet his tongue for one final declaration, “it is finished” and then to commended his spirit to the hands of the Father.  And the Lord of life died.

This had no small effect.

The temple, that focal point of Israel, of Jerusalem, really of the world – the place God had promised to dwell in his Holy of Holies – something quite strange happens. The curtain is torn in two.  The curtain – that thick fabric barrier that separated the Holy and gracious presence of God from anyone but the High Priest – and then only once a year – the curtain that stood for the separation between Holy God and his now unholy and fallen people, the curtain is torn in two.  The veil of separation rent asunder.  The priests standing in the temple must have gasped and fainted at the sight.  But to us the meaning is clear. The separation of God and man is no more.  At the death of Jesus, God tears the curtain – it was torn from the top down, you see.  At the death of Jesus, God is accessible to his people again, even heaven itself is re-opened. 

The creation itself also reacts.  The sun had already darkened.  Now the earth quaked and rocks split.  An earth-shattering something had just taken place, and even terra firma gave witness.  This is a foretaste of the final destruction of creation that will happen when Jesus comes at the end of time.  But the cross has now guaranteed it.

Similarly, we get a foretaste of the resurrection with this strange detail – that the graves of many holy people opened up, that their bodies were raised, and that after Christ’s resurrection they also appeared to many in Jerusalem.  Another preview of something greater to come – when all the dead in Christ are one day raised – when all of us will appear before him, as he appears in the flesh before us.  And the cross has now guaranteed it.

The effects of the cross ripple through space and time, forward and back, touching all people of all times and places.  The cross is the crux of all history, the focal point of Divine justice and mercy, the most important, most central event for all and forever – and for you.  He did it for you, dear child of God.

And not all mocked and jeered Christ’s death.  The centurion gave witness, perhaps in spite of himself, that this man truly was the Son of God.  Powerful words from a pagan.  Perhaps even repentant words from one who had a hand in what just happened.  But the cross of Jesus can do that too, bring sinners to repentance.

And not all the Jews mocked Jesus either.  Finally Joseph and Nicodemus came and showed honor to the body of Christ.  They anointed him and buried him with respect.  It took courage so to do.  And these two wise Jewish leaders who brought him gifts of honor, in a way parallel the visit of the wise men, who also brought fragrant gifts to Jesus.  At his birth, and at his death, honored and recognized by the wise.  So we do well to honor Christ, and recognize him by faith, from our own cradle, to our own grave.

The two Marys witnessed the burial.  Here is an important detail.  They knew exactly where Jesus was.  They knew the grave.  They saw the stone.  This sets the stage.  For these women will return to the tomb on Sunday to finish the burial customs.  And what a joyous surprise they will find.  They will become witnesses even to the apostles, that the Jesus who died is alive.

To further set up the great cliff-hanger of history, the Jews pay Jesus one final insult.  They ask Pilate for guards to secure the tomb.  They heard Jesus well enough to know the promise of the resurrection, and they feared it.  The bitter irony of their own self-deception that shut their hearts more tightly than that sealed grave.  They rejected who Jesus was and what he said he would do.  It wasn’t that they didn’t hear or understand him, they didn’t believe him.

But you and I know different.  Jesus is who he says he is, and he does what he says he will do.  None of this suffering and crucifixion, nasty business as it was, should have surprised anyone.  For Jesus had told them it was coming.  The gospels say he spoke of it plainly, and repeatedly.  And Jesus also spoke as plainly about his resurrection on the third day, for which we now wait to celebrate with bated breath.

It may be, that for a time, friends, our churches are as locked and sealed to us as that borrowed tomb.  But that doesn’t mean we can’t be with Jesus.  It doesn’t separate us from his cross. It may feel as if the guards are on watch, keeping us at bay.  But Jesus will not be deterred or held back, by a stone, by Roman guards, or even by death itself.  For your life he has destroyed death.  And by his life, he brings life and immortality to light.  So even the crosses of this life, which we bear as we follow him, are only temporary, they are all passing, and there’s life on the horizon for you and me, too.
His words are always true.  And his promise to be with you always, even to the end of the age, transcends the boundaries of time and space and quarantine. 

In the Name of Jesus.  Amen.


Thursday, April 02, 2020

Sermon - Lent Midweek 6 - The Lord's Supper


Lent Midweek 6
The Lord's Supper
"Jesus Christ, Our Blessed Savior" (LSB 627)


The final Chief Part of the Catechism, and also of our Lenten Midweek Series, is the Lord’s Supper.  It’s fitting that Luther orders the Supper as the final section of the Catechism, as it is the climax of the Divine Service – when Christians gather regularly, the high point and crescendo of our meeting is the receiving of this precious gift of Christ’s body and blood.  It is a gift we prepare to receive, as unlike Holy Baptism, it requires some instruction and examination.  So it is our tradition to mark the first reception of this Sacrament with a solemn rite – confirmation – and also typically with great celebration and joy.

Luther’s catechism sets forth for us, in a simple yet comprehensive way, what Scripture itself teaches us concerning this gift.  What is it?  What are its benefits?  Where does its power come from?  And who receives it worthily?  At one time or another, we all learn these questions and their answers and explanations from Scripture.  But just that much still doesn’t exhaust the mystery that is the Lord’s Supper, nor does it teach us all we can know of it or fully express what can be said about it.

In many ways, the Lord’s Supper is like a masterpiece painting.  We can know a great deal about it, and yet still our appreciation for it can grow – even over a lifetime.  We can find new meaning and depth in it, new and precious appreciation for the application of this gift in our lives.  What it is doesn’t change.  What it offers stays the same.  But as we grow in our faith, and ever more rooted in the Word of God, we draw ever more strength from it for the living of these days.

And so in addition to the Catechism, Luther also uses hymnody to teach us about the Sacrament of Christ’s Body and Blood.  Tonight we consider his hymn, which we sung a few moments ago, “Jesus Christ, our Blessed Savior”.

This hymn actually did not originate with Luther.  It was first written about a hundred years before, by Luther’s predecessor and early reformer John Huss.  Huss taught many of the same teachings as Luther, and objected to much of what Luther found at fault in the Roman Catholic church.  But Huss was burned at the stake as a heretic.  Had some things been different for Luther, he might have faced the same.

But even the words of John Huss, which extolled and adored the sacrament, were not quite up to snuff for Luther.  He revised and improved it, to reflect the fullness of Reformation teaching about the Supper.  For instance, In Huss’s Latin hymn, he speaks only of the bread.  But Luther restores to the hymn the recognition that Jesus gave both bread and wine, body and blood. Luther also include the language about faith as a proper preparation for the Sacrament, and that its effect on the Christian life is sanctified living.

He touches on every major aspect of the Catechism on this topic:

In verse one, we summarize the work of Christ, our blessed Savior.  He turns away God’s wrath and by his bitter grief and woe, that is, the cross, saves us from the evil foe.  The blessings of the Lord’s Supper flow from this, the cross.  Christ’s body and blood that we receive are his body and blood given and shed – at the cross.  They are the fruits of the cross, the new tree of life for our salvation.  You can’t have Holy Communion without the cross.

Verse two simply states what Christ supplies us in this meal – as a pledge of love undying.  His body with the bread, and with the wine the blood he shed.

Verse three reminds us that the most important preparation for the sacrament is faith itself.  Just as we learn in the Catechism, “who receives this sacrament worthily?”  “He is truly worthy and well prepared who has faith in these words:  given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins”.  It’s not fasting or some other outward, bodily training.  It’s not any sort of spiritual discipline that makes for proper preparation.  It’s faith, and faith alone.

Someone once remarked to me that they weren’t taking communion today, because they had sinned too much during the week.  Oh, but that’s not the standard.  The real question is this.  Do you believe what Jesus says here:  1, that this is his body and blood, 2, that it’s for you, and 3, that it’s for the forgiveness of your sins?  The do also what he says – take and eat, take and drink.
Verse 4 recognizes the Father’s role in this – chiefly that he sent his Son.  Just as an earthly father provides food for his family, so the Heavenly Father feeds his children with food from heaven – his own dear Son.

Verse 5 reminds us that the Sacrament is for the sick, not the healthy.  It is a balm and medicine for sin, not a reward for the good and holy.  It brings peace and comfort to hearts that long for rest. 
Verse 6 is a warning to stay away if you think you don’t need Jesus – who paid the high cost of this food by his “agony and bitter labor”.  But verse 7 invites those who themselves labor and are sick to come to Jesus – paraphrasing the words of Christ’s own invitation that he came for the sick, not the healthy.

Verse 8 continues in the voice of Jesus, asking rhetorically, “what purpose was my dying, if not for your justifying?  And what use this precious food if you yourself were pure and good?”  An interesting way to challenge the potentially prideful by challenging the common assumption that man can save himself.

Verse 9 reiterates the general promise of blessing for all sinners who come to this banquet.
And verse 10 reminds us that this sacrament has one more added blessing- the strengthening of our faith for Christian living.  That our faith may grow and live in love for neighbor.  That we may carry that love we have received from God into our lives. 

And now permit me a few words about the Sacrament for us, in our current situation.
I think we all long for the end of this pestilence and time of isolation for many reasons.  For one, we are concerned about the health and well being of ourselves, our families, our neighbors, and really all people.  Christians recognize disease and suffering are part of this sinful world, and we long for the day when all of it, including death itself, never worry us again.  But that day won’t come until Christ returns to judge the living and the dead.

We look forward to the ending of our time of separation from work, school, from stores and usual activities.  We want a return to normal routines.  We want our economy to recover.  We want everything to be ok.  And so we pray fervently.

And we also want our church back.  We miss our church family, and the blessing of gathering together to receive the gifts of God.  And we miss the Sacrament.  For we can receive the word in an alternate way, read it on our own, tune in to a live stream service, or sing and pray with the family around the dinner table.  But gathering around the Lord’s table, in his house, with our congregation of saints at Messiah – we must forgo this for a time.

During this time of imposed fasting from the Sacrament, we pray God would draw us nearer to him.  May we grow in our appreciation of the means of grace we do have – our Baptism, and his Word.
One pastor put it this way, "We are learning that we do not live by bread, or even The Bread, alone, but by every Word that proceeds from the mouth of God. God is prodigal with His Word, and He speaks to us in many ways – Baptism, Scripture, preaching, Absolution, Supper, and the conversation of believers. Though we may be without one form, we are never without the Word."

“The Lord sustained Daniel and the Israellites in their seventy years of Babylonian exile, and He will sustain us in the same way – by His Word and the gift of prayer. Even if we never again gather in this life around Word and Supper, we know that our scattering ends in a final great gathering of the marriage supper of the Lamb in His kingdom which has no end.”1

And yes, we will return to the feast.  Pray that it may come soon.  For it is a good thing to desire the gifts that God gives.  And perhaps this time away will make us treasure even more deeply the precious body and blood of Christ, our Blessed Savior when we gather to receive him again.   

1 http://htlcms.org/2020/04/exiled-in-babylon/?fbclid=IwAR1iQ5l3-ORFFslr7s0ZKrNGtn2ZtQthKkwWAc-aVR1l0NbTOv-ZrdoAhBQ

Wednesday, April 01, 2020

Sermon - Lent 5 - Ezekiel 37:1-14

Lent 5
Ezekiel 37:1-14
“Can these bones live?”

Lent is a good time to think about death. As good a time as any. Especially under the current cloud of Coronavirus news – many of us are closely watching the death counts in every country rise by the day.  It’s an ominous picture.

Death is a reality every man must face sooner or later. A topic we like to put away, out of our sight, far from our minds. Try as we might.  But all the denial in the world won’t stop death from smacking you in the face.  All the doctoring and supplements and diet and exercise.  All the good clean living, good genetics, or whatever someone’s secret to long life might be.  None of it can stop death – we can maybe only delay it for a while.  If that.  Death is universal and unavoidable... like, well, death and taxes. No matter how we try to get out of it.

For us Christians, in some ways it's the same, and in some ways it's different. Death is still an enemy. It still brings tears, even to the eyes of Jesus at the grave of Lazarus. Death is a separation from loved ones. And it is the great leveler of all men – after all, whatever wealth you have in this life, you can't take it with you.  We are not immune to much of death and it’s bitterness.

But death for Christians is not the worst thing that can happen. For Christians, like Lazarus, there is Jesus with the answer to death. For us, death is not the end, nor is it to be feared. “Where, oh death, is thy sting?” we say at the grave of our loved ones. Indeed, it is through death - his own death - that Jesus brings salvation, and through his resurrection that he brings life. And so we grieve death, but not without hope.

Today we have Ezekiel's vision of the valley of dry bones.  And what this vision shows is really hopelessness turned into hope. It shows us the power of the word. And it points us toward the Christ, whose death destroys death and who will resurrect his people to eternal life.

Ezekiel’s role was to preach to a people of Israel who must have felt without hope. They had lost the battle for Jerusalem. They were removed from their homeland, and living in exile. The temple had been destroyed. It must have seemed hopeless. As a nation, they were as good as dead. As God’s chosen people – it seemed pretty hopeless that God would still keep his promises – for them to prosper, and live in that land, and especially that the seed of Abraham would bless all nations.

Ezekiel must have had a hard time preaching and teaching those hopeless people. But as God shows Ezekiel the vision of the dry bones, and Ezekiel retells the story – we see that even the most hopeless situation is not beyond the power of our God in Jesus Christ, who speaks his powerful word, and whose spirit brings life to the dead.

Take a look at that valley with Ezekiel. Imagine in your own mind what it looked like.  A vast army of dead, very dead people. Not freshly slain soldiers, among whom you might find some living but injured survivors. You see that in the movies after a great battle – usually there’s a few moaning and groggy soldiers left on the field, injured, but still clinging to life.  But not on this battlefield.  There are no survivors.  No they are quite dead. Not merely dead, but really most sincerely dead. Dead and decayed, just bones left, and dry ones at that. Bones that have been out in the heat of the sun for days, maybe months or years.  Hope has long passed.  They are not even close to alive.

Kind of like you, in your sins. In fact, just like you, in your sins. Sometimes visions like this paint an even truer picture of reality than our eyes do. Just like the Israelites of Ezekiel's day were a hopeless and defeated nation with no life left in them, exiled to Babylon, powerless, hopeless, as good as dead. So are you, and so is every sinner, who may look alive but is very much dead in sin.

That valley of dry bones is the human condition apart from God. Just as dead and hopeless. Just as far from life and breath as anything. Might as well be a rock or some dirt. Your everyday experience tells you you're alive and just fine. But God's word shows the true reality. Sin brings death. It clings to us. It infects every part of us. We are dead men and women walking. Because we are sinners who sin daily and sin much. And no matter how hard the skeleton tries, it can't come to life. No matter how hard, you, the sinner, try, you can't come to life. What we need is a miracle. A divine intervention.
And God is in the business of doing just that. From death he brings life. From the cross, first and foremost. There in the hopeless, helpless, death of Jesus on the cross, he brings help and hope and life to all people. There in the valley of the shadow of death, Jesus dies to bring the light that chases away death forever. And as his dead flesh would rise to life again, so does he bring life to dead sinners who die in him.

Ezekiel's vision wasn't without hope, because he had God's word. The prophet spoke, by God's command and promise, to the wind, that is, the Spirit. Who came and brought life to those lifeless bones. Just as the pastor speaks the word of God to lifeless sinners, and the Spirit works through that word to bring life to you again. The valley of dry bones is a vision of how God works in all times and places, bringing life to the dead, through word and spirit, because of the life from the dead won by his Son at the cross.

As pastors, we could look out on you, the people in our care, and see a pile of bones – sinners who are hopeless and struggling with all their own faults and failings, grieved by the sorrows of living in a world where death reigns. You tell us your troubles, and we listen.  We visit you when we can.  We pray for you.  But usually can't do anything much about it. It's like Ezekiel looking at a femur and a skull. The troubles can be so much. And I am just a man.

But the pastor has one thing for you, and it is enough. Not a man's word, but Christ's. So now hear this, you dried up and dried out dead people: Jesus Christ has died and Jesus Christ lives and Jesus Christ promises you new life. So hear the Gospel, now, and live! Hear the life-giving word of the Spirit, who creates life where there was only death. Hear the life-renewing hope and the sin-forgiving declaration. You are not dead. You are not lost. You are forgiven. You are in Christ, and Christ is alive. So, too, do you live through him!

You are baptized. There you first rose from the death of sin to new life in Christ. And one day your flesh will die, only to rise again because of the promise of Christ, who is the resurrection and the life! The fanciful picture of dry bones coming back together, and breathing the breath of life again – is not so fanciful compared to the promise of the last day. That at the trumpet call of God the dead in Christ will rise and meet him face to face, in a glorified body, and see him as he is, being like him. The same Jesus who raised Lazarus, the same Jesus who himself broke the bonds of death, is the same Jesus who will call you forth from the very dust – to live forever in the kingdom to come.  This is our hope. This is our destiny.

We may not know what tomorrow or next week’s news headlines will bring.  We can’t predict when the quarantine will be lifted and when or if things will get back to normal.  There is so little we actually know, so few questions we can answer with certainty.  But here are few we can:
“Son of man, can these bones live?” Yes. Can Christ conquer death and live? Yes. Can he, does he, promise the same for you? Yes. So believe it, and live in him, who is the resurrection and the life. Amen.