Sermon - 12th Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 16:13-20

 

Today we focus on Jesus comments in answer to Peter’s great confession, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God.”  Jesus says,

“Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jonah! For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father who is in heaven. And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.  I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

There’s so much that could be said based on this short commentary of Jesus.  Here he teaches us about the confession of his name, the building and function of his church.  Today we will consider four lessons:

1.      The Confession of Jesus is never revealed by flesh and blood

2.      The Confession of Jesus is the rock on which Jesus builds his church

3.      The Church storms the gates of hell

4.      The Church and its ministers unlock heaven with the forgiveness of Jesus Christ

The Confession of Jesus is never revealed by flesh and blood

Peter’s great confession that Jesus is the Christ is not something that he concluded on his own.  It didn’t come to him through reason or logic.  It wasn’t something he arrived at after weighing out all the evidence and considering it carefully.  Surely Christians may and even should do all that.  But in the end what Jesus says of Peter here is the ultimate truth, and ultimately true of all Christians.

We don’t come to faith on our own.  We can’t establish ourselves, make Christians out of ourselves, or confess Jesus as Christ of our own devices.  We cannot by our own reason or strength believe in Jesus or come to him.  We are like Peter.  We need a revelation from above.

Jesus says Peter’s confession was revealed by the Father.  We know that our faith is planted by the Holy Spirit.  But there’s no conflict here, since our Triune God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit – is one God with one purpose.  The revelation of Christ – the very Gospel itself – is his desire for all men – to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth.  To know Christ crucified for sinners, and by faith in him, to be saved.

Thanks be to God for such a revelation, that we, too, confess Christ.  We take no credit for our own.

The Confession of Jesus is the rock on which Jesus builds his church

The second point is really related.  For Just as Peter didn’t confess on his own, but it was revealed to him… so also the Church doesn’t build herself, but she is established and built by Christ alone.  Christ is the divine monergist – the sole doer of the work – to build and raise his church. 

A well-known Lutheran pastor in Germany who opposed Hitler – Dietrich Bonhoeffer – comments on this truth.  He says,

It is not we who build. Christ builds the church. No man builds the church but Christ alone. Whoever is minded to build the church is surely well on the way to destroying it; for he will build a temple to idols wishing or knowing it. We must confess–he builds. We must proclaim-he builds.

We do not know his plan. We cannot see whether he is building or pulling down. It may be that the times which by human standards are times of collapse are for him for him the great times of construction.  It may be that the times which from a human point of view are great times for the church are times when it is pulled down.  We must pray to him–that he may build.

It is a great comfort which Christ gives to his church: you confess, preach, bear witness to me and I alone will build where it pleases me. Do not meddle in what is my province. Do what is given to you to do well and have done enough. But do it well. Pay no heed to views and opinions. Don’t ask for judgments. Don’t always be calculating what will happen. Don’t always  be on the lookout for another refuge!

Church, stay a church!!! But church, confess, confess, confess!

And how does he build this church, except by the preaching of the Gospel?  The proclamation of his birth, life, death, and resurrection for the salvation of the world.  Just as Eve was taken from Adam’s rib, so is the Bride of Christ, the Holy Church, born out of the side of the crucified Christ – by the water and blood of Holy Baptism and Holy Communion.

Thirdly, Jesus teaches us, that the Church storms the gates of hell.

One of the most iconic scenes in military history is the invasion of France that we call “D-Day”.  There, the allies stormed the beaches of Normandy in a heroic and perilous effort to establish our presence on the continent, and begin to bring a world war to an end.  The great sacrifices that were made by so many against such fierce opposition – will hopefully never be forgotten. 

But the church, according to Jesus, does even more.  We storm the gates of hell.  Notice, it’s not that hell is coming at us (though that’s true in a way, too).  But the picture Jesus paints here is of a church on the offensive.  A church knocking on the very gates of hell.  He implies an army ready to do battle – the church militant – assembling with all her forces and preparing to confront the enemy where he lives.  This is no passive defense.  We are on the attack!  We are a conquering force.  And with Jesus our captain in the well-fought fight, we can’t lose.  The gates of hell cannot prevail against Christ and his church.

Here’s a great promise for us.  Not only is the confession of Christ given us.  Not only are we, as his church, built up by him on this confession.  But we also have the promise that not even the gates of hell can withstand the Church.  Here, too, faith is required to see it.  For the church often looks like it’s failing.  Crumbling spires in every land.  Buffeted by the storms of the world – Rationalism, Pietism, Communism, Modernism, Post-modernism, and whatever other isms the devil wears as a cloak.  The gates of hell will not, cannot prevail. 

But just how does the church fight?  Certainly this spiritual war is not fought with the weapons of flesh and blood.  Then we would surely fail.  We’re a different kind of army.  And we fight a different sort of foe.

Really, this last statement of Jesus ties it all up:

The Church and its ministers unlock heaven with the forgiveness of Jesus Christ

The super-weapon that the church brings in its battle with evil is the forgiveness of sins for the sake of Christ.  The Gospel itself, and the forgiveness that flows from it. 

Whatever you loose on earth – Jesus here speaks of the forgiveness of sins.  It’s a charge he gives, not just to Peter as the first pope, but to the apostles as the public ministers of the church.  He will repeat this charge again in John 20, on the evening of Easter. “If you forgive anyone’s sins they are forgiven”.  And it’s just as real on earth as it is in heaven.  It’s just as sure when the pastor absolves you as if Jesus himself was doing it.  That’s why we say, “in the stead and by the command of my Lord Jesus Christ… I forgive you…”  It’s not my own authority – it’s the forgiveness of Christ.

So much is packed into this brief commentary that Jesus gives on Peter’s great confession.  The confession of Jesus is by revelation alone.  The building of the Church is by Christ alone.  The church that he builds cannot fail, even against the forces of hell.  And the greatest power he gives to that church is the forgiveness of sins in his name.

So many promises.  So many gifts.  What a blessing to be a part of it all, like Peter, as we too confess what we are given, and live out the faith in the church that Christ has both established and empowered.  Go in the peace that knows your sins are forgiven, not just on Earth, but even in Heaven.  For Jesus’ sake, and with his promise, amen.

Sermon - 11th Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 15:21-28

"Children and Dogs"

The Word of God is always relevant.  Often times, and maybe you’ve noticed this too, the particular passage chosen and appointed for a given Sunday somehow seems eerily pertinent to the happenings of the day.  I’ve seen this happen with individual Christians – who notice that whatever problems they are facing sometimes are addressed by that passage of the day.  I’ve also seen it happen many times with the broader issues we face in the public square, in the culture wars, or the news headlines of the day. 

Sometimes preachers get blamed for not speaking directly enough to the issues in the national conversation.  And sometimes, preachers seem to find every excuse to shoehorn the word and make it speak to their pet issues according to their own agenda.  But let’s avoid either of these extremes.  Rather, our aim should be to preach the word as it is given.  To apply it where it applies (and of course, it always does).  And to let the chips fall where they may.  Sometimes the connections are right in front of us, easy to make, and we should have the courage to say what God’s word says to our world.

And so today, perhaps you noticed that all three of our readings, somehow or another, touch on the topic of race.  No, it’s not Black and Hispanic and White and Asian.  It’s Jew and Gentile.  The Israelites and the “Goyim”, that is, the “nations”. 

In the reading from Isaiah, we hear that God intends his house to be a “house of prayer for all nations”.  It’s sort of the Old Testament version of the Matthew 28 “Great Commission”, where Jesus sends his disciples to baptize and teach “All Nations”.

In our Epistle, Paul discusses his ministry to the Gentiles, and his sorrow for his own people, the Jews, who as a whole rejected Christ.  But the underlying theme is the desire of God to have mercy on all, and that all would be saved – Jew and Gentile alike.

Then there’s Jesus and the Canaanite woman in our Gospel reading.  And at first, it seems very out of character for Jesus to deny the woman’s request.  Even worse, it seems he’s denying her because she’s of the wrong race!  Not a Jew but a Canaanite.  Not one of the children, but one of the dogs, as the Jews called them – no nicer a smear today than it was then.

Is Jesus here being a racist?  Is he asserting the superiority of his own people over their neighboring tribe?  Is he withholding his blessings from someone who isn’t deserving because of her ethnic origins?  No.

The best understanding is that Jesus is testing her faith, or proving it – by his apparent unwillingness to help.  He knows, of course he knows, that he will help her.  But he gives her faith a chance to shine.  What a good confession she makes.  She traps the Lord Jesus in his own analogy:  “Even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from the table”.  Great is your faith, woman!  Your daughter is healed. And Jesus is anything but a racist.  His compassion knows no such barriers.

Jesus is the same God who proclaimed salvation for all nations in Isaiah 56 and wants disciples of all nations in Matthew 28.  He’s the same Savior who was hailed as king of the Jews, and even named so on his cross.  But he’s also the savior of the nations, who desires all to be saved and come to a knowledge of the truth.  God so loved the world that he sent his only Son, not just some of the world, but all men and women, young and old, rich and poor, all races and peoples and tribes and languages.

So why is this so hard?  Well because of sin, of course.  Sin touches every corner of our experience, every aspect of our humanity – and not just our deeds but also our words and thoughts.  And so sin corrupts how we relate to our neighbors.  Sin will use any excuse to act apart from love – and if your skin color or ethnic origin is a convenient hook – then there the sinner tends to go. 

The ancient Jews certainly had a bad case of ethnic self-assured superiority.  “We have Abraham as our father, after all!  We have Moses and the Prophets!  We have the temple!  We’re not corrupt half-breeds like those Samaritans over there.  And we’re certainly not rank pagans like that woman who begged Jesus on behalf of her daughter.  We’re better than that.  We’re the good people.”  You can almost taste the arrogance. 

Remember when Jonah didn’t want to go to Nineveh?  It wasn’t out of fear of public speaking.  It wasn’t because he didn’t think he had what it takes to be a prophet.  No, Jonah tells God exactly what it was – after he finally preached and the Ninehvites miraculously repented – and God relented from destroying them.  Jonah raged against God for have mercy on those wicked people!  He said “I knew this would happen!  This is why I ran!”  In the end Jonah looks like a fool as God calls him out for his jingoism, or as we would say today probably, his racism.

Now, to what extent racism is a problem for you I will leave you to ponder in your own conscience. Christians need not find an imagined sin under every rock, nor are we above confessing a sin when we truly commit it.  But at the root of the sins related to race is the sin of pride.  The arrogance of thinking oneself something when you are really nothing. 

Imagine if the woman who came to Jesus reacted to him in sinful pride: “Are you calling me a dog!?  Who do you think you are!  We Canaanites were here long before you Israelites came on the scene.  You’ve victimized our people for over a thousand years!”  And then one of the disciples might answer, “Who do you think YOU are!  We’re the Jews!  We’re the chosen people!  Pay some respect, lady!”  And on and on it might have gone.

When we are insulted or mistreated – for our race, or our affiliation, or our beliefs, or any other reason – sin often wants to claim rights and prove our superiority and station and denigrate another to do it.  Who do you think YOU are?  Don’t you know who I am?  Show me some respect!  I deserve that! 

But look what this woman did instead.  She humbled herself.  She admitted, implicitly, that she is indeed a dog, and a beggar.  She counted herself unworthy.  No pride here, just a need of help.  And a looking to the only one who could help, Jesus.  Friends, this is the way of faith.  We should all take note.

We too, are beggars at the Lord’s table, and unworthy of the gifts.  Not because of our ethnic heritage, but because of the corruption that goes much further back in our family tree, back to Adam.  There is the true and sad unity of all races and peoples – in the disobedience of Adam.  All are one – born under the law.  Born subject to death.  Conceived in sin and unable to escape it.  And this common condition of all men and women is far more significant than culture, heritage or what we call “race”.

We need Jesus just as this Canaanite woman did.  You may have a request like she did – for healing or freedom from spiritual oppression.  You may be praying for a fix to your marriage or a job you can depend on.  You may ask God to help your wandering children or to help you manage your stress.  And these and all our needs are good and right to bring before him.  He himself teaches us to pray for daily bread, and promises to provide far more than crumbs from the table.

But we also need Jesus to save us.  To save us from our haughty and arrogant selves.  To save us from the ridiculous pedestals on which we plop ourselves, thinking that we can be like God.  Save us from our sense of superiority – first by a right view of our own ugly nature – and then by the grace and mercy that you so freely give. Save us from the filthy rags of our own good works with the perfect obedience that only Jesus could accomplish.

This is Jesus, the living bread from heaven, who feeds the world with himself.  This is Jesus, the king of the Jews and Lord of All Nations, who by his cross removes the pall of death that covered all people.  This is Jesus, who humbles himself unto death, even death on a cross.  This is Jesus, who calls Jews and Canaanites, Samaritans and Americans and every other people group there may be – the find a new oneness in his body the church.  Here all are clothed with the white robe of Christ’s righteousness that covers our sin.

I don’t have the solution to racism in our world.  I’m not here to opine about public policy or what kind of activism you should undertake.  And I certainly don’t have a slogan for you to put on your bumper sticker.  Scripture does inform the Christian’s view of race relations, but there are many aspects of it that we’ll continue to have to work through.  What we can say for sure is this.  All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God and all are justified freely by his grace.  And the picture of heaven we see in Revelation 7 makes it clear that it consists of believers of all tribes and peoples and languages.  Race as we think of it simply isn’t an issue for God.  He calls all people to faith in Christ.  May we follow in the example of that Canaanite woman, trust in Christ to give us far more from his table than we deserve, and live in and by the same faith.

Sermon - 10th Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 14:22-33

 

2020 has been a year of fear.  Most of us on some level or another fear this virus that’s turned everything upside down.  Perhaps we fear getting it and even dying from it.  Perhaps we fear giving it to others.  Perhaps we fear the effects – the dominoes that have fallen, the damage to our economy, the loss of work and wealth, the effects on our mental health, the unrest in our nation that may or may not be related.  Maybe you fear the government’s response to all this and the threats to your freedom.  Maybe you fear even to bring any of this up in polite conversation, as people have been so much set at odds.  And maybe you also fear that this will drag on and on, and we’ll never get back to normal.  Yes, fear has loomed large for many of us lately.

When Holy Scripture speaks of fear, though, it’s almost never a good thing.  Except for the command to fear God, I can’t think of any other time we are told to fear.  Rather, the command to “fear not” is common.  Fear not, say the angels when they appear.  The Psalmist writes, “yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil… for thou art with me…”  And of course Jesus himself tells his disciples to “fear not”.  We see it today as a key word (phobos – fear) in the story of when he walked on the water.

It was late, and it was dark.  That alone sets some people in a fearful mode.  The darkness means we can’t see, or can’t see as well.  And so there is the unknown.  Add to that, the wind and waves were kicking up.  The disciples, experienced fishermen among them, began to grow concerned.  They well knew the danger of the sea. 

But then they had an even greater freak-out.  They saw Jesus.  But they thought he was a ghost.  Well of course normal people don’t appear walking out on the water.  So another explanation sprang to mind – a ghost!  Even these disciples of Christ were under the sway of superstitions.  We sinners seem to know there’s a world of spirits and supernatural forces at work – and that some of those spirits are not our friends.  They fearfully jumped to a conclusion.

Jesus, for his part, calmed their fear.  “Take heart!  It is I!”  Take courage!  Be not afraid!  It’s me!  It’s Jesus!

What a sigh of relief and wonder they must have then shared.  What awe and amazement as once again Jesus does the impossible.  This is Christ – who can heal diseases, cast out demons, turn water into wine and multiply fish and loaves.  This is Jesus, who now shows his mastery over wind and wave, the very forces of nature.

One of the comforting things about having Jesus as Lord and Savior is that he is Yahweh Almighty – and that creation itself is under his command.  The little Greek phrase he uses to say “It is I” is “ego eimi”.  That’s the Greek way of saying Yahweh, which of course in Hebrew means, “I am who I am”.  This isn’t the last time Jesus uses this phrase which alludes to his true identity as Yahweh.

But if he is Yahweh - of course he can walk on water.  Water exists because of him.  Everything exists because of him.  While God the Father created everything by his Word – we know that Word is a Living Word, that in the beginning was with God and was God.  That Living Word by whom all things were made (as we say in the Creed). 

God asks Job (in our OT reading) that great series of rhetorical (and maybe even sarcastic) questions:  Were you there when I laid the foundation of the earth?  Do you know how I made it?  Can you explain these deep mysteries?  The point isn’t to make Job small – but rather to remind him who he is dealing with when he calls upon Yahweh.  This is the Creator of all things!  This is no small or weakling god of limited power.  This is a God in whom you can trust, and trust fully.

So, too, Jesus.  By walking on the water gives the disciples (and us) a glimpse of that divine power over nature.  He’s the creator, after all.  There is no greater friend to have.  There is no one better in whom to trust.  Of all the things that we may or might fear, of all the things that can and do make us afraid – he is over them all.  He is Lord of all.  And he’s in our corner!  Take heart, it’s Jesus!  Truly he is the Son of God. Don’t be afraid.

Sure it’s great for him to walk on water, but wouldn’t it be great if we could, too?  You wonder what exactly was going through Peter’s head (as you Texans like to say, “bless his heart”)  Did he reason that Jesus had given his disciples the power to cast out demons, and so therefore Jesus could and should also give Peter this particular power over nature, too?  Was he divinely inspired to blurt this out, like he was when he made his good confession that Jesus is the Christ?  Or did he simply not know what to say or do, and acted on impulse and without thought?

For better or worse, for whatever reason, Peter asks Jesus to invite him out of the boat, and Jesus obliges!  Peter, too, walks on water!  Another miracle!

Friends this is not the only time that Jesus would bend the laws of nature to bring us to himself.  This is not even the greatest miracle in which Jesus invites us to where he is, over and against all human reason and sense.

He calls us to himself.  He calls us to faith by his Spirit.  He calls us his own in our baptism.  He calls us to the table in his Sacrament.  By word and wondrous sacramental sign, he brings us to where we could never go alone.  To himself.

And even more.  One day he will call us – not out of the boat – but out of the grave.  Where he’s already gone.  The God who made the universe and everything in it, is the man who gave himself into death on a cross.  The Savior, who bore the sins of the world, drank death down to the last bitter drop, and three days later came out on the other side.  Standing tall over death which cannot touch him evermore.  Walking all over death with the same ease he treads the stormy waters – and bringing us along with him too.  His death is our death.  His life is our life.

Peter had no business walking on the water.  But he was with Jesus, and so it was ok.  You and I have no business dreaming of life after death.  But we are with Jesus, and so it will be as he says – “he who lives and believes in me will live even though he dies”. 

Now, of course Peter didn’t stay afloat very long.  And here is a lesson for us as well.  Why did he sink?  It wasn’t because Jesus couldn’t keep him above water.  It wasn’t because Jesus ran out of miracle-juice.  It certainly wasn’t because Jesus forgot about him, or turned his back on him.

He took his eyes off of Jesus.  He stopped trusting, and returned to fear.  He thought of the wind and wave and death creeped in on him again.  But he took his eyes off of Jesus, and so he started to sink. Or as Jesus put it, “you of little faith, why did you doubt?”

This isn’t a “shame on you, Peter”.  It’s not a wagging finger or a calling on the carpet.  It’s a gentle corrective.  A kind reminder.  Why did you doubt?  You don’t have to doubt, when you’re with me.  I’ve got you.  Take heart.  It is I. 

The same Jesus who called Peter to come for a stroll on the lake, is the same Jesus who’s there for him when he falls.  The one who both empowers and forgives, who rescues and restores.  Why did you doubt?  Why should you ever doubt him?  Rather – take heart.  This is Jesus, here!

I suppose some would want a Jesus who never allows the wind and wave to come at all.  Some want a Jesus never to even bother them, but let them row their way through.  Some want a Jesus who never asks us to trust him.  But that’s not the Jesus we have.  Far better to trust that this Jesus, the real one, knows best.

Dear Peter – faithful one minute, fearing the next.  We can sympathize.  Peter is the every-man.  But there is Jesus – with a strong hand to reach out and save.  And Peter’s savior is ours.  Fear not, dear Christian, but take heart.  Don’t doubt, dear Christian, but have faith in Jesus Christ.  Amen.

Sermon - 9th Sunday after Pentecost - Isaiah 55:1-5, Matthew 14:13-21

“Something for Nothing”

It is one of the hard lessons of growing up that you rarely if ever get “something for nothing”.  If a deal seems too good to be true, it almost certainly is.  Even if a company or a business appears to be giving away some product or service, they are almost always getting something for it – either some of your information, or some marketing value, or even just some goodwill from a potential future customer.  And then, of course, there are other times when the giver is a scam-artist, and some more nefarious strings are attached to the freebie.

But just as with so many other things, the Kingdom of God is not like all the kingdoms of this world.  The economy of God flies in the face of earthly wisdom and our usual ways of doing business.  Take our Old Testament reading for starters.  Isaiah the prophet gives us an oracle which promises something for nothing:  wine and milk without money, and bread without price.

In our marketplace, you get what you pay for.  In God’s kingdom, gifts are given freely.  In our world of selfish corruption, we count and measure, we price and bargain.  Everything has a cost.  Nothing is truly free.  Perhaps the closest we get is when we feed and clothe our children, or care for our family members.

But even the love of family is not so pure in our fallen world.  Even in the home, you don’t really get “something for nothing”.  We see shades of it when we feel unappreciated.  When we other people aren’t pulling their own weight.  When you’re at odds over expectations and when you miscommunicate.  Or when selfishness overshadows love, and my own way becomes what’s most important. 

No there’s no truly perfect example of grace – pure and free grace – apart from the gifts of God in Jesus Christ.  Only he gives freely and purely of himself for all people.  Only he gives without cost, without price, without expecting or exacting something in return.  His love is unconditional.  His mercy is the only true, ontologically perfect gift there is.

Take a look at our reading from Isaiah.  Here we have the prophet speaking in poetic terms about the grace of God.  As with so many other places in Scripture, the gifts of God are depicted as food.  But here Isaiah also makes it clear – this is no ordinary food that is given for free.  This is not subsistence level.  It’s lush and lavish.  It’s sumptuous.  Wine and milk!  Rich food.  Food that delights.  Food that satisfies.

Such is what Christ gives.  Such is the character of the giver, and the quality of his gifts.  He does not give us meager grace, but only the best!  He doesn’t give you a mere bit of help toward salvation.  A nudge.  A boost.  A helping hand if only you’ll cooperate.  Oh no.  He does it all.  He fulfills the law, keeps the commandments – not just mostly, but perfectly, and then credits you with that righteousness.  Even more.  He offers a sacrifice.  Not a bull or a goat or sheep.  A sacrifice of nobler name and richer blood than they.  He sheds his own holy, precious blood.  He offers his own innocent suffering and death.  His death on the cross covers every sin.  Pays every debt.  Finishes everything.  Even death itself.  This is the lavish provision of God for you.

We see Jesus giving freely also in the Gospel reading, the Feeding of the 5000.  Now there is much we could say about this miracle, many angles from which to examine it.  But consider today how generous our Lord is:  far beyond the expectations of any that day.  Certainly beyond what the disciples had in mind.  “Hey look, we’ve barely got enough to feed ourselves!  Let’s send the crowd away to go find their own grub!”  No, you give them something to eat.  And when the disciples won’t, because they can’t, Jesus does.

And he doesn’t just feed some – the most deserving or the most needy.  He doesn’t grade the crowd on a scale of who was listening to his teaching and who wasn’t.  His generosity is indiscriminate.  Men, women and children are fed.

And all are satisfied.  He fills their bellies.  He gives even more than enough, as the 12 baskets of leftovers show. 

The generous nourishment of the Gospel – this is just one more lens through which to see and appreciate the exceeding riches of God’s grace in Jesus Christ.  And it really is what sets the Christian faith apart from every other.  What must I do to be saved?  Believe in Jesus Christ and be baptized for the forgiveness of your sins.  In other words, receive the gifts of Christ.  That’s it.  That’s all.  No works of merit.  No heroic moral achievements.  No tipping the scales in your own favor by a preponderance of good deeds over bad.  Just trust the giver.  He will take care of you.

This same God who led and fed his ancient people, this same Jesus who fed the 5000 miraculous food, also gives freely today – food and drink that is rich and lavish.  He sets a table before you of rich food without price and fine drink without cost.  He feeds you his body and gives you his blood in this blessed sacrament.

It’s like no other meal on earth.  In fact, it’s heavenly.  It’s far more miraculous than the feeding of the 5000 – for here at the Lord’s Supper he feeds the church of all times and places.  Here we join the great company of heaven – all the saints in glory – even angels and archangels – in a mystical sweet communion that transcends time and space.  All are one in Christ when we receive him here.  All who partake of this heavenly feast receive its many blessings.

You confirmands, the greatest blessing you receive this day is not that you get to wear fancy robes and a special certificate.  It’s not the accolades of your family for completing your instruction well.  Today, you are invited to the feast.  Today you join the ranks of those who have been instructed and examined, and now partake of the body and blood of Christ.  You’ve been Christians since your baptism.  Now you receive Christ in yet another way, fed and strengthened as you continue to grow in faith your whole life.  What a wonderful couple of scripture passages for you as you receive your first Holy Communion today.

And still it gets better. For as our liturgy reminds us, as wonderful as the Sacrament is, it is yet only a foretaste of the feast to come.  One day we will join that great company of heaven on the other side of death – and even bodily in the resurrection.  Then will come the great marriage feast of the Lamb in his kingdom that will have no end.  Yes, heaven itself is pictured as a feast – a banquet – in the mansions of the Father.  And Jesus himself is preparing a place for you even now.

This side of heaven, in our everyday experience, you really don’t get something for nothing.  Everything has a price, a cost, some strings attached.  The sinful world is transactional and selfish.  And we are just as much a part of it. 

But here in Christ, we do get something for free – though it cost him everything.  He gives us all the blessings of life in his kingdom – rich food, fine drink, forgiveness of sins, and a hope of even better things to come.  Thanks be to God in Jesus Christ for such great gifts!  May we receive them always in faith.  In Jesus’ name.