Sermon - Easter 7 - John 17:1-11

Easter 7

John 17:1-11

“Jesus the High Priest”

John 17 is widely known as the “Great High Priestly Prayer” of Jesus.  It follows Jesus’ “Farewell Discourse” of John chapters 13-16, and immediately precedes the account of Jesus’ betrayal and arrest in chapter 18.

But before digging into the text itself, let’s consider the scriptural character of priesthood, and how Jesus fits into it.

In the Old Testament, the priests were set aside as a special, or holy, class of individuals whose basic purpose was to represent the people before God.  They did this by their activity in the sacrificial system – offering up various sacrifices on behalf of the people.  They also did this by their ministry of prayer – which was also on behalf of the people.

But one man held a singular office – that of the high priest.  He represented, in himself, all of the people.  It was the high priest alone who once a year entered the Holy of Holies to make atonement for the people by means of the sacrificial blood.  It was the high priest alone who placed the sins of the people upon the scapegoat and sent that goat out to die in the wilderness with those sins.

So the priesthood as a whole, and the high priest in particular, served not only to deal with the sins of the people and represent the people before God, but also as a grand foreshadowing of the person and work of Jesus himself.

Jesus, you can see, then, is the great high priest.  He represents the people before God – ALL the people.  Jesus offers up the sacrifice, the once-and-for-all sacrifice of himself, for the sins of the world.  Christ the victim, Christ the priest, as our hymn puts it. 

You need such a priest, for you are a sinner.  And like me and all the other sinners out there – you can’t come to God on your own, on your own merit, with your own good works.  Sinners have no standing before Holy God.  You could sooner get the president on the phone.  You need someone who has access to get you access.  You needs someone who is approved, who has standing, who has the right to speak to God – to speak for you.  You need a priest, and a really pretty good one at that. 

And Jesus Christ, as the highest of high priests, not only represents us before the Father by his blood, but also in his prayers.  Here in John 17 we have a very precious one of those prayers recorded.

What a wonderful blessing to have this extended prayer of Jesus written for our learning!  Herein, he teaches and comforts us.  He shows us his nature and purpose, and also defines us as his people over against the unbelieving world.  He lets us listen in, as it were, on his earnest prayer to the Father on our behalf. 

First, Jesus prays concerning glory.  That he has glorified the Father and that he, the Son, would be glorified.  Here Jesus refers to his work on Earth to this point, and the “hour that has come”, namely, his upcoming suffering and death.  It is in the shame and suffering and humiliation of the cross that God is glorified, that Christ is glorified.  What a strange glory it is – to be unjustly arrested and tried, tortured and killed.  It is not a glory as the world counts glory.  But it is the highest glory of God, the Christ crucified for sinners, to gain eternal life for his people.  The glory of the cross.

Then he would be glorified in resurrection and ascension, having accomplished all, and returning to the presence of the Father.  Jesus knew the plan all along, understood it, and accomplishes it perfectly.

Secondly, he prays for us, his people.  The ones that the Father has given him.  The ones that are “out of” the world.  One of the running themes in John’s Gospel is the distinction between the believers and the world, And what makes these disciples of Jesus, and all disciples so distinct from the world?  They keep the word of the Father, and of the Christ.  We hold to his teaching and trust in his Gospel.  This is faith language.

We trust Christ and receive him because we know that he is one with the Father, and that all the Father has given him, he gives to us, most especially his word.

In this, Jesus does NOT pray for the unbelieving world.  They don’t know him anyway.  They hate him.  They despise his word and rebel against the Father.  Such were you and I apart from his gracious call to faith.  Until the Father gave us to Christ.  But now we are his, and we are in him and in the Father.  And as we trust in him and are saved by him, he is glorified in us.

Jesus also prays, in this prayer, that we would be one.  That the church that belongs to him and has been called out of this world would be united with one another in him.  Jesus prays that this would happen as we are kept in the Father’s name.

Unity in the church, unity of faith, is found in the unity that God gives by his word.  It is unity based in that word, and what it teaches.  No outward unity matters compared to this.  It’s more than that we would just all be nice and get along with each other.  It’s greater than shared traditions, a shared musical heritage, or favorite pot-luck recipes.  Christians are united – absolutely one – in Christ.  And in our faithfulness to his word, we express that unity outwardly by our confession of it.

And isn’t it wonderful that the Father answered Jesus’ prayer!  He glorified Christ in that cross.  He glorified him in resurrection and ascension.  And he glorifies him in the church, even now, as sinners come to repentance and faith, and Christ crucified is preached to the very ends of the earth.

I encourage you to read the rest of this chapter, for we only have the first 11 verses of it in our reading today.  There Jesus continues to pray that his people would be consecrated and sanctified.  He prays that we would be kept from the wicked influence of the world, and from the evil one.

And he even makes it crystal clear he isn’t just praying for the 12 disciples, or that small band of early Christians in Jerusalem.  He says, “I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.”

Jesus is our great prophet, priest and king.  Today we consider him as the Great High Priest.  The one who prays for us.  The one who is sacrificed for us.  The one who is glorified by the Father at the cross, and who shares that glory with us, his people.

Thanks be to God for the ongoing ministry of Christ.  For he who shed his blood at Calvary, now pleads for us by that same blood before the throne of God.  And he who prayed before his disciples, and in the garden, still prays and intercedes for us, on our behalf.  May our Great High Priest ever be glorified also among us.

Sermon - Easter 6 - 1 Peter 3:13-22

"The Exalted Christ"

1 Peter 3:13-22

If you look at today’s Epistle reading, especially the last half of it, you can almost see the outline of the Apostles’ Creed hiding in there: 

Christ... suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended into Hell.  The third day He rose again from the dead.  He ascended into Heaven and is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.

And this is not an accident.  For the Apostles’ Creed summarizes the teaching of the apostles, including St. Peter, here.

But more than a biography, the Second Article of the Creed shows forth the most important elements of Jesus’ saving work for us, his people.  In fact the Gospels themselves are less concerned with Jesus as a historical figure, or in telling us all the pertinent details of his resume, his backstory and his personal preferences.  They barely mention anything about the majority of his life – with only one of the four Gospels telling us the story of his nativity. 

They do however, spend a great deal of time on his public ministry – the three years of preaching and miracles that preceded his death, resurrection and ascension.  For most of that time, if we were to consider Jesus’ life and ministry as a whole, he seemed to be fairly well like us.  Apart from an angelic message to some humble shepherds, and a star that brought some wise men from the East a couple of years later, his origins appear fairly mundane.  He is born in humility, of a woman, just like us, and placed even in a manger.  He is raised by loving parents of no particular fame or wealth.  As an adult he also lived in relative poverty, relying on the kindness of others, many of them women, to support his ministry.  He once remarked, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” (Luke 9:58).  He rode in to Jerusalem not in the magnificent opulence of a king on a grand steed, but humbly, on a donkey, and a borrowed one at that.  Even in death he had to borrow a tomb from a rich man.

So much of Jesus’ life on earth among us was marked by humility.  Humble service in washing feet and welcoming the least, the outcasts, the children.  Humble suffering and death, even death upon a cross.  And of course all of this, he does for you.  He humbles himself to raise you up.

We describe the first phase of his work – from his conception to his death and burial, as the Savior in the “State of Humiliation”.  That is to say, that during this time, he generally set aside his divine power, majesty and glory and humbled himself intentionally, and voluntarily.

But humility doesn’t really cover or adequately describe all of Jesus’ work. 

Beginning with his resurrection and descent into Hell, he enters a new chapter, or phase – his “State of Exaltation”.  And it is this that today’s reading from 1 Peter 3 really helps explain.

First of all a word about the timing.  If you take the Creed on its face, it would seem that the timeline after Jesus’ burial continues with his descent into Hell and then his resurrection after that.  But 1 Peter 3 seems to indicate otherwise, mentioning the resurrection first: “being put to death pin the flesh but made alive in the spirit, in which he went and proclaimed to the spirits in prison.” But this really isn’t a problem.  For one, there’s nothing that tells us the Creed means to be taken as a literal timeline.  And secondly, since Jesus’ descent into Hell was “in the Spirit”, there’s a certain amount of mystery surrounding how it happened anyway.  When dealing in spiritual things we are sometimes too quick to shackle them with the bonds of time and space – which may not be fair.  Best not to get bogged down in these questions and rather focus on the point Scripture and the Creed are both making about this.

It’s easy to see how Jesus’ victory over death and bodily resurrection are part of his exaltation.  In showing his power over death, he begins to take back and exercise his Divine rights, his glory and power.  The conquering, victorious and exalted Christ shows death who is boss.  Thanks be to God!  This is our Easter joy!

But what of his descent into Hell, or as Peter puts it, his “proclaiming to the spirits in prison”?  What do we make of this? We can set aside two false ideas of the descent into Hell from the outset.

Jesus did not descend into Hell to suffer.  He made that much clear with his word from the cross, “it is finished”.  Though he did suffer the torments of hell while on that cross, even crying out to show us when the Father had forsaken him.  For what is the worst of the suffering of Hell, but that God would turn his back on you.  And the Father did that to the Son in the great mystery of Jesus’s crucifixion.  He suffered Hell, there and then, in your place.  But when he died it was finished.  His subsequent descent into Hell was for another purpose.

He also did not descend into Hell to give the condemned a second chance.  He was not emptying Hell out, or freeing the prisoners there as some have taught (and even as some iconography depicts).  It is appointed for a man to die once and then the judgment.  Those who died in the faith, even in the Old Testament, did not go into death apart from God, but rather to paradise, to Abraham’s bosom.  Elijah and Enoch and Moses and Abraham and so many other Old Testament believers – went to be with the Lord.  It is the unbelievers that constitute the “spirits in prison” mentioned here, along with the Devil and all his demons.  It is to these forces of evil that Jesus proclaimed his victory over death and sin and hell, and therefore also, over them.

And so the descent into Hell, is really part of Jesus’ work of exaltation.  It is part of the glorious victory celebration that his saving work is complete, and effective, and can never be undone.  It is a sort of a dancing on death’s grave, in triumph, for you and me.

Our Lutheran Confessions put it this way:

“It is enough if we know that Christ descended into hell, destroyed hell for all believers, and delivered them from the power of death and of the devil, from eternal condemnation and the jaws of hell.  We will save our questions and not curiously investigate about how this happened until the other world.  Then not only this mystery, but others also will be revealed that we simply believe here and cannot grasp with our blind reason.” (FC Ep IX 4).

Somehow Peter then works from the disobedient souls consigned to hell and brings us to the topic of baptism.  The connection is that hell is filled with all manner of unbelievers, even going as far back as the flood.  But even then, God was busy saving – Noah and his family, 8 souls in all, through the flood.  That saving through a flood corresponds to Baptism, where and how God now saves us.  And by the way, many baptismal fonts like ours have 8 sides, the shape of an octagon, to commemorate Noah and his 7 family members who were saved through the flood – 8 souls in all. 

We will save the more complete sermon on Baptism for another day – but today it’s enough to show that Christ’s Baptism – bestowed on the church, and by which we make disciples of all nations – this too is part of his exalted work.  For now, from Heaven’s high throne, he continues to send his Spirit, calling new believers to salvation through the water and the word.  The Lord of the Church, reigning over all, exalted once again – still saves sinners through the washing of rebirth and renewal.  Just as he also, exalted on high, still meets us at the altar under the bread and the wine that he gives as his body and blood.

So, If all angels are now beneath him.  If death and hell are trampled under his victorious foot.  If all powers and authorities and governments and rulers are made subject to the King on his glorious throne a the right hand of the Father – if Christ is exalted on high – that is good news for you, Christian.  For he rules all things for your good, and for the good of the church to which you belong.  What can sin or death or devil do to you, when the exalted Christ is your savior, your champion, your king?

Christ’s state of humiliation, his state of exaltation, these aren’t just esoteric doctrinal categorizations for theologians in ivory towers.  They’re simple ways of helping us see all that Jesus has done for us, and continues to do for us.  Humbled for us, even unto death, even death on a cross.  And now exalted for us, even to Heaven, to the highest throne.  Thanks be to God.  In Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Sermon - Easter 5 - John 14:1-6

Fifth Sunday of Easter
John 14:1-6
“Jesus the Way, Truth and Life”

First of all a happy mothers day to all of you, whether moms or honoring or remembering our moms today, we give thanks to God for this special vocation of motherhood.  It’s not a church holiday, but the Scriptures certainly afford great honor to motherhood.  It is through our mother that God brings each of us into this world, and provides us with so much nurturing and care.  Fathers are of course important, too, but there really is nothing quite like the maternal bond.  Thanks be to God for our mothers.

Today we observe the Fifth Sunday of Easter, and the shape of the Easter season takes on a bit of a new character in these last few weeks.  The early few Sundays focused intently on Jesus’ resurrection, his appearances, and the events surrounding all that.  Then last Sunday we had the emphasis on Jesus as Good Shepherd who lays down his life for his sheep.  But now it’s as if our Gospel readings have turned a bit of a corner, and we are gearing toward Christ’s ascension and bodily departure from this world.  We come back to the discourse of Jesus earlier in John’s Gospel where he is preparing his disciples for his inevitable departure – meaning both the cross and grave, but also after that, his ascension.

The thought of Jesus going away could well be very upsetting to any of his disciples.  It’s been difficult for us to be absent from church even these 6 weeks or so, absent from participation in the Sacrament of the Altar.  But at least we expected this to be only temporary.  For the disciples, Jesus was going away in a way they didn’t understand, and they wouldn’t see him again until their own death.  To have Jesus in their midst these three years, and then to have him taken away – only to come back again – and then depart again… it could have all been so troubling.

But Jesus knows this.  And so he prepares them.  He begins his going away speech with these words, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.  Trust in God, trust also in me”.  There is no place for fear in the life of disciple of Jesus.  There is, however, great room and cause for trust.  Trust God, the Father, who sent his son.  And trust Jesus, the one who does all things for us. 

To believe in God the Father is really the same as believing in Jesus, for he too is Lord and God (as Thomas would confess).  John’s Gospel is marvelous in showing the continuity between God the Father and God the Son, their unity and oneness of purpose.

He departs, but not without lavishing promises upon us.  He goes to heaven, not to get away, but to reign and rule all things for us.  And, as he teaches them here, to prepare a place for us.
In the Father’s house are many rooms.  And Jesus goes to prepare a place for us.  There are many rooms because there is a place for each and everyone one of his many disciples.  All who believe in Jesus have claim to this promise.  A place in heaven.  A home in eternity, in the very house of God.  Or as one translation puts it, the “mansions of heaven”.  I remember one dear older lady who made me promise to use that translation at her funeral – “pastor don’t you say many rooms.  I want the one that says ‘mansions’ in heaven”.  And what a beautiful confession of faith in this promise of Jesus.  For his promises are always better than we can dream or imagine.

He fleshes out this promise even more:  That he will come back for us, and take us to be with him.  He will return, personally, to make sure we get there.  This is no probable or possible place for us he’s preparing.  It’s not a maybe mansion.  It’s a definite destination.  Oh, it will happen, because his promise is strong and trustworthy and true.  You have a future, a home, an eternity with God and with Jesus.

Eternity at home doesn’t sound so good to so many of who’ve been stuck under a lockdown.  But eternity in the Father’s house, and with Jesus, will be nothing but good.  No more sin or death.  No more suffering or pain.  God himself wiping every tear from our eyes.

And you know the way to get there.

Now, some might say the way to get there is to be a good person.  To have a positive balance of karma.  Or at least to mind your own business, live and let live.  Others might say follow the commandments, or even just give it your best shot.  Others will say it’s an act of will, or a decision, or that God will give you a leg up but you just need to work with him.  Oh the many ways and means we invent and imagine.  The many angles and attempts of humans to make their own way.  But there is only one way to the Father, there is only one way to heaven, there is only one escape from this body of death, this world of evil and the just condemnation of our own sins.  You know the way.
The way is Jesus.  The way, the truth, the life.  No one comes to the Father but by him.

But by him, we can, and we do!

Jesus is the means and the destination. 

Phillip asks to see the Father.  But Jesus tells him he already has, since he has seen Jesus.  So here is the principle:  if you want to know the Father, know Jesus.  If you want to see the Father, see Jesus.  What the Father does and wills, so does Jesus.  As the Father is, so is Jesus.  While the Father and Son are distinct persons, yet there is a oneness of substance and will.  They share fully in the Divine Unity.  This is all so very “Gospel of John”

And so the disciples were looking for the way to the Father, but they’d known him all along.  They were looking for something to do, but it was already done in Jesus Christ.  The way, the one way, the only way, but way a blessed way he is.

As I mentioned earlier, this begins a shift in the Easter Season, as Jesus begins to prepare his disciples for his departure – both his death and resurrection – and then his Ascension.  Jesus leads the way for us – both into death, and out of death.  He leads the way back to the Father also in his ascension to heaven.  Where he goes, we will also go.  Where he is, we will be.

But in the meantime, do not let your hearts be troubled.  For though he is away, he is also with us.  Though he has bodily ascended, he is present in the bread and wine.  Though we cannot see him with our eyes, our faith is focused on him, and on his promise to be with us always, and also to come back.
We Christians live with a sort of a dual reality in so many ways.  Sinners and saints.  Old Adam and New.  Body and Spirit.  But we also live in the now and the not yet.  We live here an earthly life in a vale of sorrows, but our life is also hidden with God in Christ.  So that whoever lives and believes in Jesus, the way, the truth and the life, will live even though he dies.  And whoever lives and believes in him will never truly die.  We have hope in Christ for his life, but also for a life to come, a paradise that is being prepared and will one day be revealed to us.

The future is already ours.  We already know the way. The way is always by grace through faith in Christ. We rest in the truth.  Everything that Jesus says is trustworthy and true, even what has not yet come to pass. And we have been given the life – the life that he won by his glorious resurrection – the resurrection which opens the way out of the grave for each of us.

There are many things that could lead your heart to be troubled, here, and now.  But Jesus says don’t.  And he gives us cause.  He calls us to trust, and makes us beautiful promises of brighter days.  Do not let sin and sorrow, guilt and death or any other trouble have sway.  For Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. 

Sermon - Easter 4 - 1 Peter 2:19-25

1 Peter 2:19-25

Good Shepherd Sunday

"Jesus the Shepherd and Overseer of Your Souls"

The Fourth Sunday in Easter has become, in recent decades, “Good Shepherd Sunday”.  Taking our cues from the lectionary, where each year we take this week to focus on the grand biblical metaphor of shepherd and sheep.  It’s a common enough picture, especially for the pastoral people of Palestine in biblical times, and really, even today.  And it’s a very simply but profound picture with many points of comparison.  And of course, Jesus is the Good Shepherd to whom we always come back, or rather, who always seeks his sheep, that is, you and me.

The relationship between shepherd and sheep reaches even back into the Old Testament.  There we can already see the effects of sin in the very first shepherd – Abel.  Already foreshadowing the Christ, who is both shepherd of sheep and victim of violence, Abel, the one who didn’t deserve to die is killed by the one who did – Cain.  And yet God shows mercy on Cain, marking him with protection.  Abel’s blood for vengeance pleads unto the skies, but the blood of Jesus, for our pardon cries.

And then you have the patriarchs – also shepherds.  Much of the unfolding of God’s plan for salvation happens in the context of shepherding.  Abraham is a generous shepherd, giving the choice land to nephew Lot.  Jacob is a shrewd shepherd, multiplying his own flock.  And so many more stories of the daily life of our forefathers in the faith show the place of the shepherd.

And so even we, who live in cities and drive cars, and shop at Walmart, can learn from the relationship of shepherd and sheep.  We can find our place in the flock, under the watchful rod and staff of the great Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Today, let’s focus especially on the Epistle reading.  For here we can mine some more nuggets and treasures out of the grand metaphor of shepherd and sheep.  Here we will find both law and gospel, sin and grace, rule and comfort.

Peter, in our epistle reading, shows forth some different aspects of the Good Shepherd you may not hear much about in Lutheran churches.  Christ, in his suffering, is an example for us.  The Good Shepherd leads the way – yes, even into and through suffering.  And Christ brings his straying sheep back, for he is the Shepherd and Overseer of our souls.

Now, this is not to say that Jesus is ONLY example, or even primarily so.  We aren’t saying that, and neither is Peter.  He shows that Christ “himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness”.  He’s not telling us to bear our own sins or anything like that.  Christ is the savior.  We are the save-ees.  That much is clear, both here, and in all of Scripture.

But this doesn’t negate Peter’s call that we should “Follow in [Jesus’] steps”. 

He committed no sin.  So you, commit no sin.  There was no deceit in his mouth.  So let your mouth also be deceit free.  When he was reviled, he did not revile in return.  So you, also, do not return evil for evil.  And when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.  So you also, when you suffer, trust God – the just judge – to get it right, to make it right.

So often when we suffer we look for justice, or even revenge.  We know, somehow, deep down, that suffering isn’t right.  It’s not just because it’s unpleasant, but it also shouldn’t be.  When someone sins against us, even as a young child, we demand justice!  We want the scales balanced!

Hypocritically, though, we’re not so concerned with justice when we suffer for our own sins.  Think of the two robbers on the cross – one had the sense to humbly confess they were receiving the due punishment for their deeds.  And if you forget that yourself, then our confession of sins does a good job reminding us – and guiding us to speak the words – we deserve temporal and eternal punishment.  So what credit is it to you, then, if you suffer what you actually deserve?  If you are beaten for you sin, and endure, Peter asks. Rather, suffer injustice and persecution with patience and joy.  Endure the unjust hardships following the example of Christ himself.

And a faith that follows Jesus trusts that God will sort it all out.  If we suffer unjustly, God will make it right. And if we suffer for our own sins, we beg forgiveness and mercy.  No servant is greater than his master.  No sheep is better than the shepherd.  No Christian is above the Christ.

Die to sin.  Now there’s something.  And it likely means some suffering. When you die to sin you avoid the carnal pleasures of sin, the siren call of this world’s delights.  Even the satisfaction of revenge is a thrill that Christians put aside, and rather suffer the injustice of persecution until God makes it right in his time and way.  So Christ the Good Shepherd showed us, so we the sheep must follow.  He died for all sin.  You get to die to sin, and live in and to his righteousness.

By his wounds, you were healed.  Never forget the wounds he suffered for you.  Never stray far from those nail marks, that scourged back, those thorns in his crown, the spear in his side.  Those wounds – from which flowed the precious blood of Christ.  Those wounds are your healing from sin and death. By his stripes we are healed.  In his death, we live.

And now the Good Shepherd part of this passage.  You were straying like sheep!  Here’s an accusation!  Nobody wants to be compared to a dog or a monkey or some other silly animal.  But being called a sheep is no compliment either!  Even today, we know that sheep have a reputation for empty-headedness.  They can wander off if they aren’t looked after.  They need supervision.  The lost sheep.  Sometimes we speak of this way about a family member who has always had a hard time in life – difficulties making good decisions, and always seems to be wandering somewhere without direction.

But we also know that sheep can just as mindlessly follow a shepherd.  And so this can be an insult of another kind – people who uncritically follow their leaders, who mindlessly believe whatever is spoon fed them by the media, or some charismatic charmer.  There’s even the word “sheeple” – people who act like mindless sheep in this way.  Don’t be a sheeple, like they are!

But the picture here is different.  The wandering sheep is brought back.  And it’s not to a mindless following of a huckster or charlatan.  Rather, it is a faithful trust in the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ.  We were straying in sin.  But now we have returned to him.

And this, not of ourselves, either!  The Good Shepherd seeks and saves the lost.  He calls and leads the sheep back.  He even pulls us out of the pit and carries us to safety.  He does it all.

He’s not just the Shepherd, he’s the Good Shepherd.  Good unlike any other.  Giving gifts and bestowing grace.  Leading where no one else could lead their sheep – through death and then out on the other side of the grave.  Therefore the Valley of the Shadow of Death brings us no fear of evil.  He is with us.  He comforts us.  Feeds us.  Makes us lie down in peace.

Just look at this last phrase.  A title.  Peter calls Jesus the Shepherd and Overseer of our souls. And we’ve explored the Shepherd part, but what about an overseer?  While it seems to have taken on an unfavorable connotation in our language, an overseer is not a taskmaster or a vindictive bully in charge of a group of slaves.  Even if we translated it as “supervisor”, there still runs the risk of us calling to mind all the unbearable bosses and tedious workplace leaders we’ve had to answer to. 

But this overseer is different.  Just as he’s no ordinary shepherd. He’s the overseer who’s watching over.  He’s the guardian and protector of your soul, your very life.  He’s the one looking out for you.  We might call him the “Good Overseer”.

And another translation of that is bishop.  Just as another translation of shepherd is pastor.  So too faithful ministers of the word throughout all generations have sought to follow the example of the Good Shepherd.  A faithful pastor will care for the sheep and lead in love, not by fear or intimidation.  And a faithful pastor will echo the voice of the Good Shepherd.  He will preach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and call the straying sheep to repentance and faith and forgiveness. May God grant it to his church, here, and in all places.   

A blessed Good Shepherd Sunday to you, and to all the sheep in the care of the Good Shepherd, Jesus Christ our Lord.  May we both trust in him and follow his example.  May we suffer with endurance, die to sin, and live to his righteousness.  And may we always follow the Shepherd and Overseer of our souls.  Amen.

Sermon - Easter 3 - Luke 24:13-35

The Third Sunday of Easter

Luke 24:13-35

The Road to Emmaus. One of those Bible stories that captures our imagination. It actually happened ON Easter Sunday – the same day of the resurrection. Precious few of these accounts are recorded for us – appearances of the resurrected Jesus. But like in the other accounts, Jesus appears, alive, and does some mysterious things. They don't recognize him at first. He's going incognito. And for that matter, we don't know much about who these 2 Emmaus disciples were, either (one is named Clopas, and the other isn’t named – though there have been various theories throughout church history). I, for one,  am particularly intrigued by Jesus interpreting the Old Testament to these men, “in all the Scriptures the things concerning himself”. Oh to be a fly on that wall, well, buzzing somewhere down the road with them, at least.  Oh to have our hearts, also, burn within us.

But as a Lutheran, I also love this text most because already on day ONE of the resurrection, we have sacramental theology. Jesus took bread, blessed it, and gave it to them... and their eyes were opened. Later it tells us, “he was known to them in the breaking of the bread”. The Lord again presides at what appears to be the Lord's Supper, their eyes are open, and they see him. This is so incredibly profound.

And furthermore - doesn't it seem that some interesting things always happen to God's people “on the road”? You have this, the Road to Emmaus. You have the conversion of St. Paul on the road to Damascus. Phillip met and baptized an Ethiopian Eunuch along a road. The parable of the Good Samaritan happened on the road. The woman with the flow of blood was healed on the road, while Jesus was going to raise Jairus' daughter. And the crowd spread their cloaks on the road on Palm Sunday.

Perhaps all this action on the road isn't really about the road, itself, but that God acts in ways and at times we least expect, even “along the way”.

Who knows what any of Jesus disciples thought in the bewildering blur of events on that first Easter. They were certainly talking, rehearsing, “all that had happened”. But they didn't understand, especially from the Scriptures, that this had to happen. This was the plan all along. They still couldn't get their brains wrapped around this: that the Messiah had to suffer and die, and rise on the third day.

And my friends, my baptized and and believing Christian friends, I suggest you and I are not different from those disciples. What Jesus said to them, he could surely say to us, even to us pastors:

“O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and enter into his glory?”

So often we like to think we have it all together and we can look at those foolish disciples with the benefit of hindsight and, let's face it, far greater wisdom and faith. They were bumbling idiots, but after all, we are LCMS Lutherans! And Pastor, you even went to seminary!” Well, for all the good that does you. The disciples studied under Jesus Christ himself and still struggled with all this. 

“O foolish ones, and slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!” The Old Adam in us, the sinful nature in all of us is foolish and unbelieving. Our new nature in Christ, of course, sees and believes. But we are, in this life, both Old and New. We are both sinner and saint. Righteous and scoundrel. And we struggle, even to believe what the Word of God says so clearly about Jesus the Christ.

Jesus died for you. Jesus rose for you. Oh it sounds so simple. We all say we believe it. But we certainly act as if we don't. And how little trouble it takes to make us doubt the love of God in Jesus Christ. Some suffering in life comes, and we're convinced he's forgotten us. Some plan of ours falls to shambles, and we think he's punishing us. Or maybe you harbor some guilt for some sin that you know he died to forgive, but even though Christ's blood was shed for it – YOU can't let it go.

No, we are foolish and slow to believe. We could go even further, and admit we have false beliefs at times, and we are ignorant of much. Which of us knows the scriptures as we should? Even lifelong study can't bring us to the depth of appreciation for God's word we ought to show. “But, pastor, I learned all that in Confirmation class 50 years ago.”

To all of this, all I can say is, repent. Repent of your slowness to believe. Repent of your foolishness and carelessness with God's holy word. Repent of thinking you know better than what God actually says. Repent of hanging on to your guilt when Christ has come to set you free.

And Christ does. For even though he chides his disciples for their foolishness, he doesn't desert them on the road, nor will he desert us. Even though they are slow to believe, he is patient and kind, and lovingly teaches them, opening the Scriptures to them. Just as he gives us pastors and teachers even today to continue opening his word, and opening our eyes to it. Thanks be to God for the gifts of his word, and the testimony of that word to his Son, Jesus Christ!

For Jesus is the fulfillment of the Scriptures, from Moses – through all the prophets. He is the Lamb of the passover. He is the pillar of cloud and fire that leads and protects us through the wilderness. He is the rock from which they drank, and we drink. He is the captain of the heavenly host, who for us fights, the valiant one. He is David's son and David's Lord. He is the wiser king than Solomon, the more prophetic prophet than Elijah, and the more priestly priest than Aaron or Melchizidek. He is the Suffering Servant of Isaiah. He is the temple of God – the dwelling of God with man. He is the Son of Man, whose own new life will bring life to all the valleys of dry bones there ever were or will be. He is the one of whom the Psalmist writes, “My God, why have you forsaken me... they have pierced my hands and feet.... dogs surround me.... they divide my garments among them.... my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth”. But he is the Holy One who would not be abandoned to the grave. Nor will he abandon you.

And yes, he continues to teach us in his word, even today, who he is and what he has done for us, and what he still promises to do. But even more.

Why did Jesus only flip the switch when they had broken bread? Why was he only known to them at the table? Surely, as a sign also to us – to seek him where he promises to be. For you can go to Jerusalem today and see the places where he walked, the roads are mostly buried or lost, and I don't think Emmaus is around any more either. Or you could try to find Jesus in your heart, but good luck sifting through all the other garbage there to find him. Or you could even try to find Jesus in your neighbor, but remember the sheep were surprised, themselves to hear he was present in the least of these. No, instead, Jesus promises to be found where he has made himself available and accessible to us. Where he says he will be. In the bread and wine. This is my body. This is my blood. For the forgiveness of your sins.

You see, Jesus does nothing by accident. And the Holy Spirit doesn't inspire the Gospels to record these events for his own amusement. These things are written that you may believe, and believing have life in Jesus Christ. We are meant to see Jesus with these Emmaus disciples. We, too, are meant to meet him in the breaking of bread. We see him made known to us there, through the eyes of faith, by the power of the Spirit.

And faith gets it right. For faith is not of ourselves. Of ourselves, we are foolish and slow. Of ourselves, we are wandering the roads of life aimlessly. Of ourselves, we are alone, confused, guilty and struggling. But Jesus comes along, and in his mysterious ways, teaches and feeds us. And it is enough. He assures us of his grace and mercy. He sets our hearts on fire with a yearning for his gifts: a love of his word, and a deep appreciation for the sacraments. It's not a pious, feel-good burning of hearts, but a deep desire born of repentance and faith – a work of the Spirit.

His disciples would carry the word and sacraments of Christ down many more roads. They would share the Gospel in Jerusalem and Judea, to Samaria and to the ends of the Earth. And so the church, as she goes, brings Christ with her. Or maybe it's Christ, as he goes, brings his body along. Brings his word, brings his meal.

Soon, soon, we pray, we will come together again, and walk alongside not only Jesus but our fellow believer, in the fellowship of this altar.  May the joy of Easter enliven our hearts, here and now, and down whatever road we go. And may the peace of God which passes all understanding guard and keep your hearts and minds in Jesus Christ, amen.

Sermon - Easter 2 - John 20:19-31

John 20:19-31

Easter 2

 “Thomas and Jesus”

It's not just because I like his name. I've always had a soft spot for Thomas. Who knows why he wasn't there on that first Easter Sunday – when Jesus appeared to them in the locked room. Maybe he was the one designated to go out and get some supplies, or some information.  Maybe they had drawn lots, or maybe he went because he wasn't quite as afraid as they were? And who could forget Thomas was the one who said, when it appeared Jesus was headed for Jerusalem, “Let us also go, that we might die with him”.

But we don't call him “brave Thomas”, do we? We know him as “doubting Thomas”. For when the other apostles told him the news of the risen Jesus, he didn't believe it. In fact, in a foot-in-mouth moment that would last for all history, he went so far as to say, “I won't believe it unless I can touch his wounds myself!' Well, Thomas, you don't want to put the Lord to the test, now, do you?

But really, this account from John's Gospel isn't so much about Thomas – and whether he is brave or a doubter. This account is about Jesus. And it's not only about Jesus and Thomas, but like all of John's Gospel, “These things are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”

It's about Jesus. Jesus who is, in fact, risen from the dead. But because he rose for the benefit of his people, he takes the time to prove it to them. He shows them. He appears to them. To Mary Magdelene and the women at the tomb. To his fearful disciples now in the wake of the Good Friday tumult. And to at least 500 others throughout the next 40 days.

Jesus – so reliable and true, his word so sure and trustworthy, that he rose from the dead just like he said he would. Jesus, who fulfilled every little prophecy about the suffering servant Messiah – prophecies of the Scriptures and prophecies from his own lips. He knew he would die. He knew how he would die. He knew he would rise. And he told the disciples how it would all go down. But they didn't believe.

Not only did they doubt it, but Peter even argued with him. God forbid it! He said. But Jesus said such talk was of Satan.

Now it had all come to pass. The betrayal, the denial, the striking the shepherd and the sheep were scattered. So much for bravery from them.

Now these same cowardly doubters – all of them - were locked up for fear of the Jews. And it took a miraculous entrance by Jesus for his first resurrected visit with them. And it just so happened that doubting Thomas wasn't there with the other doubters.

They tried to tell him. We have seen the Lord! But he didn't believe them. If none of them would believe Jesus before, is it any wonder Thomas wouldn't believe them now? As much as they tried to convince him, he would only believe on his own terms. Seeing is believing. Touching is believing. But just hearing the word? Not so easy.

And when Jesus appears a week after Easter, he tells him, and shows him, and invites him to touch. Jesus addresses his doubts exactly in the terms he expressed them – as Jesus knows the exact remedy for everything, even doubting.  It's true, Thomas. Stop doubting and believe. And Thomas believes. “My Lord and My God!” he confesses. Doubting Thomas becomes believing Thomas.

Tradition holds that Thomas became a missionary to India, where he is still honored as the first Christian missionary there. It is also said that Thomas was stoned to death and then stabbed with a spear, thus fulfilling his own words, “Let us also go, that we might die with him”.

And on this first Sunday of Easter, the Christian church traditionally recalls this “doubting Thomas” account, for it occurred on the original first Sunday after the Resurrection. We remember the account of Thomas and Jesus.

We remember Thomas for his doubting. But we remember also that Jesus met him where he was. He knew just what Thomas needed, and invited him to stop doubting, and believe. He showed him his wounds – hands and side – proof of his suffering and death. But the one who showed the proof was alive. And interestingly, the text never says whether Thomas actually touched those wounds. But it does record his confession of faith, “My Lord and my God”.

What was truly unusual was not that Thomas doubted. Or even that Thomas eventually believed, and confessed.  This story isn’t really about Thomas at all.  The story is really about Jesus – who was alive – and who reached out to the doubter.

So what are the lessons for us? What would Jesus have us learn from the Thomas account? Perhaps, very simply, “stop doubting and believe”. For Thomas isn't the only doubter. Those other disciples doubted too. And the disciples here this morning are doubters too.

We doubt the resurrection. We doubt the words and promises of Christ. We doubt those hard words of Scripture that bump against what our culture has taught us. We doubt those plain words of Scripture that fly in the face of what mainstream science proclaims.

We doubt the perfect demands of the law. We doubt the soothing forgiveness of the Gospel. We want to believe what we want to believe, and not what he calls us to believe.

But still he calls us. And still he promises a blessing, “blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe”. What a far-reaching blessing. For almost all who believe in Christ do so without seeing or touching. Thomas and those other disciples were truly the exception. We are the rule. Christ comes to us his people through his word, and in his sacraments. And yet somehow, by the power of the Spirit, we believe. And we are blessed.          

Well, we may not touch the wounds. But Christ does touch us in the sacrament. His body and blood touch our lips, and nourish our souls. One of the many benefits of the Lord's Supper is the strengthening of our faith – that is, the diminishing of our doubts. But more than that he calls us through his word. He calls us Sunday after Sunday, persistent in his mercy and grace. Stop doubting, and believe. And if he can conquer death, he can conquer your doubts and fears.

You see, Jesus tells Thomas to stop the doubting – not so much to scold him.  If you hear those words the same today – as a sort of a “shame on you and your stupid doubting”.  Then I encourage you to hear them another way – through the lens of Christ’s love, and the framework of the gospel.  It’s not “Believe in me or else.” Or “Stop doubting, you fool!”  But rather a gentle, kind, invitation to believe.  It’s, “hey, you can trust me!”, it’s “my dear child, you can always believe in me.”  There’s nothing to fear.  There’s no need to doubt.  And Jesus wants the same for us.

These things are written that you may believe.

Just as he invited Thomas to put his finger in the wounds, he invites you to put your faith in his words. I am with you always. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies. Your sins are forgiven, go in peace.

John closes the Thomas account, “These things are written that you may believe.” And so we hear, and so we do. In Jesus Christ, amen.