Tuesday, September 01, 2020

Sermon - Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 16:21-28


“Taking Up Crosses..."

Crosses hurt.  They are not pleasant.  You know, the Romans designed crucifixion to maximize pain and suffering.  We sometimes forget this.  We see crosses as decorative artwork to hang on the wall.  We might wear them as jewelry.  We have so many around us, perhaps they lose their sting. But it is a reminder of something very bitter. A cross is an instrument of death. 

Jesus knows this, of course.  When Peter makes his great confession, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God”, Jesus begins to explain what that means – the Christ is the one who will be dying.  He will suffer many things.  He will be killed. And on the third day he will rise.  Yes, I’m the Christ, Peter, but this is what being the Christ means. It means a cross.

And then Jesus gets to something else unpleasant.  He says, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”  Following Jesus might not sound so bad if it just means going for a walk.  If it just means trying to follow his example of good deeds and compassion for people.  If that’s all Jesus meant by “follow me”, he could have stopped there.  But he says “deny yourself” and “take up your cross”.  And there’s where the suffering comes.  There’s where the trouble begins. Crosses hurt.

Again we’re often like Peter.  He didn’t want any talk of suffering and death.  He didn’t want any crosses.  Not for Jesus.  Not for himself.  Not for anyone else, mind you.

Even today, for some Christians, talk of the cross is a downer.  It’s too depressing.  It’s not the main thing.  We’d much rather hear about God’s love and mercy.  We want the blessings, not the curses.  Let’s have life and salvation and glory.  Not shame and suffering and death.  There’s enough of that going around already.  Look at the news.  The pandemic.  The riots.  The shootings.  Wars and rumors of wars.  Hurricanes.  Fires.  Abortions.  Injustice.  Corruption.  Families in disarray.  Economic woe.  Stress.  Anxiety.  Depression.  Addiction.  No thank you, Jesus, we have enough troubles without talking about all these crosses you want us to take up.  We’ve reached our quota of corsses already, thank you very much.  Now if you could kindly get back to the puppies and rainbows we’d appreciate it.

But Jesus rebukes Peter.  And he would rebuke us too if we try the same tricks.  He says, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.”

Don’t get in the way of Jesus going to the cross.  That’s Satanic.  Don’t think that there’s a Christ without the cross.  That’s having in mind the things of man, not the things of God.

Rather, receive the Christ on his own terms – Christ crucified for sinners like you and me.  A humble, lowly, man of sorrows.  A lamb of God led to the slaughter who opens not his mouth.  A willing and obedient victim, honoring his Father’s will, drinking the cup of wrath down to the dregs.  Stricken for you.  Smitten for you. Afflicted for you.  By his stripes, you are healed.

You need this Jesus of the cross.  For your sin problem runs deep, as deep as mine and anyone else’s.  The ugliness of the cross is the only ugliness ugly enough to match your sin.  And we need to see our sin.  We need to see what it cost Jesus.

Sometimes I think this is why Christians balk at the sight of a crucifix – you know, a cross depicted with the corpus, the body of Christ still on it.  Oh they’ll say it’s “too Catholic”, when really, there’s no truth in that.  Maybe we’re just not used to it from growing up, or it brings up certain associations in our mind, and that’s fair enough.  But I do think some people want their cross bare so they don’t have to be reminded of what that cross really means – that their Savior had to die an excruciating death – and that on account of sin – yours, mine, everyone’s.  For some, it’s maybe just too stark a reminder.

But we preach Christ crucified.  Just as Jesus preached a Christ that would be crucified.  And anything less, anything other, was of the devil.  Anything that got in the way, or offered another way, was the things of man, and not the things of God.

So what does it mean for us to take up our crosses and follow him?  Well, it doesn’t mean that we go out asking for trouble.  We don’t seek suffering, or pursue martyrdom.  Rather we pray for peace and well-being, for protection and provision, indeed as Jesus taught us, for daily bread.  He never taught us to pray for tribulations.  Rather, to pray that we would withstand them when they do come.

And taking up your cross certainly doesn’t mean you get to be the Savior from sin.  Your cross always follows in the wake of his.  Your cross is never bigger than his, more effective, more worthy.  Your crosses are merely an echo of the true cross, a participation in the sufferings of Christ, but only ever a small part.

But taking up one’s cross means accepting the sufferings of this life, and especially those we undergo for the sake of Christ – and still walking in faith.  It means seeing the silver lining of the clouds of life – and knowing that God who worked so much through the sufferings of Christ, will also work for good through your own suffering, just as he promises.  It means holding on to our joy, even in the midst of sufferings, persecutions, and trials.  For we know that all of our sorrows are fleeting, and cannot last forever.  One day we will put down all these crosses, and the final cross of our death will become the gate to eternal life. 

Yes, even the most bitter thing for most people to face – death itself – is redeemed by Christ and used for his good purposes, for his people.  If you are in Christ, you don’t need to fear death.  For you have the promises of Jesus – promises of life, even though you die, if you believe in him.  Promises of a place in the Father’s house which he prepares for you, even now.  And you can trust Jesus to be stronger than death for you, because he conquered the grave himself – that’s the kind of Christ he is.  That’s also what he told Peter and the disciples – that the Christ must suffer, die, and on the third day rise.  And he did. Just. That.

Whoever will save his life will lose it.  Whoever loses his life for the sake of Christ will gain it.  So we take up our crosses with joy, we face death all day long, we are as sheep to the slaughter – because even then, especially then, we know Christ comes with life, abundant, eternal life, for his people.  With Christ we can’t lose, even if we lose our life, we gain it, for eternity.

And finally Jesus promises that some who heard all this would live to see it.  Surely, Peter would.  Though he would deny Christ to the servant girl, and run away for fear his cross would be next.  Though he and the other disciples would scatter like sheep when their shepherd was struck.  Though they locked themselves up and away for fear of the Jews.  Still they would live to see the words of Jesus fulfilled.  The Son of man would suffer and die and rise on the third day.  Coming in his kingdom.  It began at the cross – where he was crowned with thorns and enthroned in his suffering.  Where his glory was revealed in perfecting our salvation.  But it would not stop there.

For the Christ who predicted his suffering, death and resurrection, also promises a return in glory with all his angels – a return to judge the living and the dead.  Then each will be repaid. Then all that is wrong will be made right.  All who have shunned the cross of Christ will be repaid.  We, who are in him, will receive the full measure of our inheritance. 

So take up your cross, Christian, whatever it may be, and follow Jesus.  For he has taken up his cross for you.  But the cross was not the end of him, and your crosses will likewise come to an end.  Remain faithful to him, for he is always faithful to you, and his promises always come true.

In Jesus Christ, Amen.

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