Sermon - Christmas 1 - Luke 2:22-40

The Fullness of Time

Galatians 4:4-7

Luke 2:22-40

The long wait is over, and here we are on the other side of Christmas.  I’ve always found it a bit easier, once we are past the actual day – once the gifts are unwrapped, the company has come and gone, and the dust settles… to be less distracted and more thoughtful about the true meaning of Christmas.  We can stand a little more apart from the busy-ness and sentimentality now that the world has moved on to Valentines Day decorating.  The church continues to reflect on the meaning of this holy birth, this precious child born to save.

Today, I’d like to start with our reading from Galatians.  Here Paul reflects a bit on the meaning of Christmas with his commentary on Christ’s birth.  He explains that it happened “when the fullness of time had come”.  And there is a phrase worth examining.  The fullness of time.  We don’t usually think of time as being “full”, but rather as running out.  Or frittering away our wasted time.  It’s something we never seem to have enough of.  But here, the image is quite the opposite.  As a measuring cup filling up to the line.  Or as an hourglass or a container of some sort, that God is filling, filling, until it comes to the brim and spills over.  A cup of blessings, perhaps, ready to spill over.

You look at the Old Testament and see God working.  He builds one man into a family, and then into a nation.  He plants that nation in a homeland.  They fend off enemies, rise and fall, are exiled and return.  A temple is built and rebuilt.  And a world empire takes over – bringing a tense peace.  The conditions, in hindsight, were right.  Of course God was not just waiting for the right time, but preparing the world.  Working through all the ups and downs of history to pull the trigger, when the time is just right, to send forth his Son.

Even now, with all the hindsight of thousands of years of history, it is difficult to see God’s hand moving through the rise and fall of nations, the challenges and triumphs of his people.  But we trust that the Almighty knows what he is doing, and always works for the good of those who love him. It’s not as if God is sitting helplessly on the sidelines, waiting for his chance, his big moment.  Nor was he ever.  He knows his plan laid from the foundation of the world, and nothing will hinder him from accomplishing it.  So when the fullness of time had come, God acted, sent forth his Son. 

Born of a woman, and born under the law.  Yes, it might appear that he came into the world in the usual way, but we know the backstory.  Son of a woman, born under the law, but also Son of God, and giver of the Law.  And with his two natures our Savior would both fulfill that law and impute his righteousness to the world, so that all who believe would be saved.

So that we might be adopted as sons, heirs, and have the right to call on the Father as dear children do.  The Father always knows when the time is right.  And we see that in our reading from Luke as well.

“And when the time came…” he begins, that is, the time for Mary and Joseph to bring Jesus to the temple for the prescribed rituals.  Purification for Mary and the redemption of the firstborn for Jesus.  Joseph and Mary were faithful and pious, they seem to have done everything a good Jew was expected to do.  They knew the times and seasons God had appointed, and they observed them.

And then we meet Simeon.  An unusual character, perhaps a priest himself.  Righteous and devout, and had been given a special revelation by the Holy Spirit.  He would not see death until he saw the Christ.  He had a “fullness of time” of his own.  A plan God had laid out for him, a blessed appointment for which he eagerly looked forward.

How long had Simeon waited and waited?  It’s interesting that we are not told.  There is a tradition in the Orthodox church that claims Simeon was one of the 72 scholars who translated the Septuagint (the Greek Old Testament).  The story goes that he was translating Isaiah 7:14 “A virgin shall conceive…” and that just as his pen hovered over the word “virgin” in order to change it to “woman”, the Spirit stopped him, an angel appeared to him, and gave him this special revelation that he wouldn’t die until meeting the Christ.  If this is true it would make Simeon somewhere in the neighborhood of 200 years old. 

Now we don’t rest our faith on a pious tradition such as this.  It could well have been that Simeon was no older than a usual old man.  What matters isn’t the details of this unusual sign (or we would have been told them).  What matters is that God fulfills his promises whenever the time is right. 

However old you are when you meet the Christ, it is the right time.  Whatever you are doing, whatever stage of life, whether part of your plans or not.  In the fullness of time God acts, in time, to save you.  He sent Jesus at just the right time.  He brought the good news of Christ to you at just the right time.  You are baptized at just the right time – buried and raised with Christ.  And when God calls you home, and your time in this vale of tears is ended – it is also just the right time, the time of his choosing.  So it was for Simeon, so it will be for you.

And don’t forget Anna – who we are told her age – I guess Scripture doesn’t abide by the rules of politely never mentioning a woman’s age.  She joins Simeon in this strange and wonderful meeting with the Christ, also at just the right time, blessing him and confirming the blessing from God that this child is and will be

Simeon and Anna, in a way, these two elderly saints, stand as a sort of Adam and Eve.  They who in earliest days stood before Yahweh to hear the results of their sin, who first tasted the fruit of sin and death.  They, also who first heard the promise of salvation through the seed of the woman.  Now this old man and old woman, who appear as if out of nowhere, who represent to us the ravages of time and sin, and for whom death hovers ever near – they remind us of our first parents in the Garden.  But they also represent to us the fullness of time, the completion of the plan, the long-awaited closing of the loop of God’s promises.  The seed of the woman is here!  The Christ is born!  The tears of Eden give way to the joy of Simeon and Anna who have seen the salvation of Yahweh, even the glory of Israel.

And Simeon even sings about it.  What joy that we have this Nunc Dimittis, “Now let your servant depart in peace, in accordance with your word”.  Simeon sings with joy that he can finally die in peace, for he has met the Christ.  He can go from this sorrow-filled world.  His long life has now reached its fullness, in Christ.  And for Simeon, all is now well.

It is no accident that we sing the song of Simeon when we too have met the Christ.  We meet him not at the temple, but at the altar.  We receive him, not wrapped in swaddling clothes, but hidden under bread and wine.  We receive him with the same joy that sees his salvation.  And we, like Simeon, can depart in peace from this blessed meeting, in accordance with God’s word.  Sins forgiven, we can even die in peace, ready at any time – whatever God’s plan for us may be.

Think of this, dear Christian, any time you come to God’s house, hear the Gospel, receive the Sacrament, it could be the last.  God could call you home tonight or tomorrow morning.  Your days are at his discretion.  Your days are numbered.

But in faith we don’t fear death any more than old Simeon.  For he was in Christ, and he could depart in peace.  What a joy and peace to know that whatever the appointed time of your departure, your sins are forgiven, and you can depart in peace, according to the will of him who holds all the times and seasons and years and days in his hand.

In the fullness of time, God sent forth his son, born to die, also at the appointed time.  A child, appointed for the rising and fall of many.  A son, who would be pierced – crushed – and who would by his death bring the consolation of Israel, and of you.  Trust in the One who acts – in the fullness of time – and always at the right time – even Jesus Christ our Lord. 

Sermon - Luke 1:26-38 - Advent 4

The last reading set before us in Advent, as we wait in expectation and eagerly look toward our Christmas celebration – the final story we hear from Scripture before Christmas begins - is the Annunciation.  The angel Gabriel comes to see the virgin Mary, and proclaims to her the good news that she will be the mother of the Messiah, the Christ.

It is no small event in its own right. It’s part of our creeds – that Jesus was conceived by Holy Spirit… Usually celebrated by the church on March 25^th, exactly 9 months before Christmas, the Annunciation marks the real beginning of the incarnation.  Jesus’ earthly life as a human being begins, we notice, in the womb.  He didn’t come from heaven as a man, fully matured and ready to do whatever.  He didn’t even appear simply as a baby.  But he undergoes the full extent of our human experience in order to redeem all of our humanity – not just cradle to grave, but womb to tomb.

And so, just 5 days before Christmas, we mark the conception of Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, in the womb of the virgin Mary.

Let’s take a closer look at this account from St. Luke, who carefully researched all these events and likely interviewed Mary herself who then relayed this story for us to hear. 

Mary was betrothed.  That means she was already spoken for, in a sense.  It’s a little more legally binding than engaged, but still not quite married.  She and Joseph had their plans.  They were faithful and observant Jews, we can see, from how they often even traveled to Jerusalem for the appointed festivals.  They were probably planning to have a family, and raise their children in the fear of the Lord.  Maybe they’d already registered at Bed Bath and Beyond, or whatever the 1^st century equivalent was.  And the appearance of the angel here, and the words of the angel, and the implications of his message – threatened all of that.  But let’s see what happens.

But she was betrothed to a man named Joseph.  Luke mentions that Joseph was of the house of David.  And this is no small detail.  This rather intentional reference lays the groundwork for what is about to happen.  We know that the Messiah who was promised was to be a Son of David.  And Jesus would qualify both through the bloodline of his mother, and through membership in the household of his legal guardian, Joseph.

And so the angel appears, and greets her.  And what has always amazed me about this is that Mary is not puzzled by the appearance of an angel, that an angel should appear, I think, would be a most troubling, puzzling, and shocking event for any of us.  But Mary almost seems to blow past that – and is troubled instead at the greeting.  She focuses on the message, not the messenger, even when it’s a heavenly messenger.

We do well to follow her example, too.  Pastors may come and pastors may go.  You may change churches or move here and there.  You may hear the word of God from faithful parents, grandparents, teachers, and other Christians.  God uses multiple and varied channels to speak to us, his people.  But in the end what matters more than these, even more than an angel from heaven, is the word of God itself, the message of the Gospel.  We think of how St. Paul speaks to the Galatians – if anyone, if anyone preaches to you a message contrary to what you have heard from me – even if it’s an angel from heaven – let them be anathema (accursed).  So important is the message of the gospel.  Let us ever listen to the voice of the Shepherd, no matter who is speaking it.  And let us never be lead astray from the truth of his word, no matter how impressive or slick or convincing the false preacher.  Hold fast to the word.  Believe the gospel!

And the beginning of the gospel is here – with the incarnation of Christ.  What an appropriate way to begin it – with an annunciation – a word!  As the angel speaks to Mary the word of God’s promise, so does it become reality.  Mary conceives.  And the light comes into the world.  Sure, that light is not revealed until Mary gives birth, and our incarnate Lord remains for a time hidden in the womb, but even there he is recognized by the unborn baby John the Baptist, who leaps for joy as the two expectant mothers visit.

But even Mary has to admit this is all rather strange.  It is, in fact, unique in all of human history.  We know the way of it – how conception and procreation work.  But the God who designed it all breaks the usual pattern with this miracle child, this singular incarnation of his Son.  And Jesus is conceived by the Holy Spirit.  Thus no man can claim credit for bringing the Savior into the world, but just as our salvation is accomplished by God alone, so is Christ’s manifestation among us also a pure work of God, and of no other.  It is entirely an act of grace. 

But back to the greeting that troubled Mary so.  “Greetings, you who are highly favored”.  And the angel repeats it later, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God.”  That Greek word, charis, means favor or grace, or a special honor.  It, too, denotes a blessing or a gift that is undeserved – but flows freely from the grace of God.

Perhaps this greeting troubled Mary because she, like all of us, knew her status as a sinner.  Someone unworthy of such favor.  As she later would sing, “You have regarded the lowliness of your handmaiden”.  Mary knew she didn’t deserve a special place of honor any more than the next sinner, and yet an angel appears and calls her “highly favored”!  It is a strange message indeed. 

But so also is the Gospel.  I could greet you in the same way.  Greetings, you who are highly favored!  You, like Mary, have received the grace of God.  Grace, not to be the mother of the Lord, but grace to be the brother of the Lord, and a child of the Heavenly Father.  In Jesus’ incarnation you, too, are highly favored, sinner that you are, that your race, your human family, should be so honored to have among its ranks the eternal Son of the Father.  And more.  This child now conceived and soon to be born, would grow to a man who would preach and teach and heal and serve and finally die for the sins of the world, and for Mary’s sins, and for yours.  There is no greater favor or grace we could hope for than that!  There is no better greeting than the one that points to God’s grace in Jesus Christ.

The angel gives a few more details to Mary – that the child should be named Jesus.  That name (Yeshua in Hebrew) means, “God Saves”.  And here again we see that we are highly favored.  For it is not man who saves.  It is not we who save ourselves.  And yet along with Mary we now we need saving.  But so simple is the truth:  God saves.  And he does it through Yeshua, the fruit of Mary’s womb. 

And there’s more.  The child will be the Son of the Most High.  He is divine.  He is the eternal Son of the Father.  Before there was, he was.  He may be your son, too, Mary, but he is also much, much more.

And he’ll even occupy the throne of his father David.  He will fulfill the ancient promise that David’s son would reign forever.  Here the angel makes it clear to Mary, and to us, that this child is the Messiah.  He is the fulfillment of God’s promises of old.  He is the seed of the woman sent to crush the serpent.  He is the Prophet like Moses that God raises up, a new and better Joshua to lead his people.  He is the offspring of Abraham by whom all nations are blessed.  He is the Suffering Servant of Isaiah who will bear our griefs and sorrows.  He is the one to whom all the Scriptures testify, as he himself would claim.  Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

One day Mary would stand at the foot of the cross.  There she would see this child that God granted her put to death in gruesome fashion.  There she would see the word made flesh accomplishing salvation for us all, the truest expression of God’s favor.  And if the greeting of the angel was strange, the cross of Christ is even stranger.  That God would save his people in such a way.  But that’s just what he does.  Nothing is impossible with God.

Mary’s response to this word of God through the angel, the strange greeting and all the other strange things that would come of it, is an example of faith for us to follow.  She speaks this beautiful confession:  “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word.”

You and I could, and should, say the same.  We are servants of the Lord.  Let it be to us according to God’s word.  That word which shows our sin – let it be to me as you have said, Oh Lord.  I am a sinner, and I deserve nothing.  That word which shows God’s grace.  Let it be to me as you have said, Oh Lord.  In Christ I am highly favored, though I deserve nothing but punishment.  That word of Christ himself, by which he proclaims his mission accomplished, his sacrifice complete, and our sins atoned for:  It is finished!  Let it be to me, according to your word, Oh, Christ.

And as we prepare ourselves for Christmas, let us join with humble Mary in receiving the word of God in faith, strange as it ever may be, for in Jesus Christ we see that indeed, God Saves.  Amen.

Sermon - 2nd Sunday in Advent - Mark 1:1-8

Mark 1:1-8

“Comfort, Comfort”

Mark begins his Gospel as abruptly as you might expect.  The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ. 

As it is written is Isaiah….

Behold, I send my messenger before your face,

who will prepare your way,

the voice of one crying in the wilderness:

Prepare the way of the Lord,

make his paths straight,’ ”

And then John appears.  As if out of nowhere.  And John starts preaching – a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.  This is what the voice says.  This is how the way is prepared.  This is how Isaiah is fulfilled:  Repent, be baptized, and get your sins forgiven.  For the Lord is coming.

Yes, every year, during Advent, John the Baptist makes his visit.  We’ll hear about him next week, too, in John’s Gospel.  Today, we see him especially in connection with the prophecy of Isaiah, a prophecy about the one who prepares the way.

That Isaiah passage begins with the words, “Comfort, comfort, my people”, After Israel had been taken captive and banished from her homeland by invading armies, the voice of God healed her wounds, because the prophet proclaimed “comfort” to God’s people, because “her warfare is ended…her iniquity is pardoned.”

If there’s ever been a time we need comfort, it’s these days.  Anxieties are high.  People are more on edge.  I’m sure you’ve noticed it too, even here in our church family.  Fears about our health, our mental health, our spiritual health swirl around us.  People are testy – quicker than usual to snip at each other.  We are suspicious – not always putting the best construction on our neighbor’s actions.  We feel frustrated with a world that seems so out of control, and we pine for a return to normal and wonder if it will ever come.

We need comfort.  We could use a nice healthy portion of it these days.

But in many ways John is an uncomfortable fellow. I mean, even his manner of dress makes for discomfort – camel’s hair – sounds itchy and scratchy.  John’s a bit of a wild man – living out in the wilderness – eating bugs and probably hasn’t had a haircut for far longer than you’ve been away from your favorite salon.  He’s rough and tumble, this Old Testament character, this scruffy prophet.  But his message is also un-comfortable.

Repent!  Turn from your sins!  John’s message is as abrupt as his appearance at the beginning of Mark’s Gospel.  He just shows up on your doorstep and cries out.  Repent!  No soft-pedaling political smoothery.  No gentle socractic leading to get you to realize your problem on your own.  John lays it out there – rubs your nose in it.  Repent!  You’re a sinner.  Turn from your sins.  This isn’t polite dinner conversation or light-hearted banter.  This is hard-hitting, stark-reality, un-comfortable law.  You’re a sinner and you better shape up, cut it out, be sorry for your sins, and turn from them in disgust.

It’s uncomfortable because we know what the wages of sin are.  Death.  It’s uncomfortable because we know that God hates sin and condemns sinners.  It should make us spiritually squirmy for the law to work us over. The prophet’s simple and direct call to repentance leaves no one out, leaves no excuses, and gives us nothing but shame and despair.

But that’s not all John says.

Just as quickly, he moves from repentance to forgiveness.  Just as quickly as he rips off the bandaid, he applies the healing balm.  John the Baptist does bring the comfort, the comfort of the gospel.  And he does it even in the same breath.

“Repent and be baptized,” John preached, “for the forgiveness of your sins”  Let us remember in this time of pandemic, fear, frustration, uncertainty, and generalized malaise – that the real problem we face is and always has been sin.  And therefore the only real solution we can hope for is exactly the solution our God has prepared for us – the forgiveness of sins.

You are baptized, Christian!  And that’s far from nothing.  It is a great comfort.  It’s a place you can take comfort, there, the font.  There, where God made you his own, washed your sin away, and you became an heir of all the blessings of heaven.  Not a historical footnote on a page of your life long forgotten.  Your baptism is a present reality, a daily renewal, a rebirth that keeps on giving you blessings.  John’s baptism prepared the way for Jesus’ baptism, a fuller expression of this blessed washing that you now enjoy.  A great comfort for God’s people.

And John also preached a word of comfort.  The good news that the Lord is coming – that it’s time to get ready for his appearance.  Make his paths straight.  Prepare a royal highway.  It’s a terror if you’re stuck in your sins, to know that the Lord is coming.  That means judgment is coming, punishment you well deserve.  But in faith, the coming of the Lord is a comfort, and only comfort.  It’s better than the arrival of your best friend, or a beloved family member, a long-lost loved one.

A dear Christian recently reminisced with me about the loved ones she had lost in her long life, and how she looked forward to seeing them again in the kingdom to come.  But then, I heard the voice of faith, as she added, “But I’m so much more looking forward to meeting Jesus.”  To know that Christ is coming, and that you get to meet him face to face, what a comfort for his people!

Yes, John preached comfort because he didn’t preach himself.  In fact, he humbly confessed he was not the Christ.  He pointed forward to one far greater than himself.  The one who is greater than me because he was before me.  The one of whom I’m not worthy to undo his sandal.  I baptize with water, but he will baptize with the Spirit and with Fire. 

John brought a baptism and a word of repentance and forgiveness, but it was a word of comfort from Jesus.  John preached the word, Jesus is the living word.  John prepared the way.  Jesus is the way, the truth, the life.  John brought the comfort a baptism and hope.  Jesus delivered that very salvation, in his person, by his life and death.

What comfort we Christians find in the cross.  There, in the crucified Christ, we see the depth and breadth of God’s love for us sinners.  There, in Jesus, the perfect sacrifice for all sins that ever were or would be.  There in the Son of God made flesh and offered as a substitute for you, is the cure for all that ails you, for all the troubles of a broken world, for all the aches of heart and mind and soul.  If you are afraid, look to the cross.  If you are in sorrow, look to the cross.  If you carry the weight of your sins, the burdens and cares of this life, of your loved ones, seemingly of the world, look to Jesus – the one greater than John – the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  And there find your peace, your hope, your joy, your comfort.

This Advent season, we prepare again for Christmas, for a joyous celebration of the only true and lasting comfort we Christians have.  But oh, what comfort he brings.  So prepare your hearts by repentance and faith.  Let John preach it to you again – make straight the paths of the Lord.  Remember your baptism.  And with Isaiah, and all the prophets, and all the believers who anticipate his coming.  Find your comfort in Christ.  Amen.

Sermon - 24th Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 25:14-30

November 15, 2020

“Making Use of the Gifts”

Last week we heard an end-times parable of Jesus about the 10 virgins, and the theme was “watchfulness”.  Next Sunday, the last Sunday of the church year, we will hear from Jesus about the Sheep and the Goats – and how at the end he will separate believer from unbeliever.  Today’s end-times parable is that of the Talents.  Jesus sets these three one right after another in Matthew’s Gospel, and so we do the same in the church year.  You might read them in summary as follows.  Christ is coming back.  Be watchful.  Make good use of your gifts.  And at the end he will bring you into his fold.

In that context we come to this parable.  A man, a master, a king, is going on a long journey.  But he will surely come back – sometime.  This, of course is Jesus.  And he gives to his servants, before he leaves, talents.  Now here we have to clarify what a talent is.  In Jesus’ day a talent was a large sum of money – like thousands of dollars’ worth.  Not the day’s wage like a denarius, or even the 30 pieces of silver – the price of a slave. A talent was more money than most people would see in their lives.  And for a master to hand it over for safe keeping to his servants while he goes away – without any seeming checks or balances, without any seeming rules or instructions, makes us stop and think.  Who does such a thing?

Jesus, of course.  He’s the master.  He knew he was going away, and yet someday returning.  It’s the whole topic of this chapter.  And so he teaches them as he does with a parable about it.  He is leaving his servants, at least in a sense, though he will return again to settle accounts.  Now the focus shifts to what happens in the meantime.

But before we get to ourselves in the parable, let’s take a moment and consider the character of the Master.  That he would entrust something so valuable to mere servants is itself a striking thing.  But this is Jesus, after all, the giver of good gifts.  And he, along with his Father and the Spirit, graciously gives us all good things.  So what exactly is the talent?

Perhaps the best understanding is that the talent is “all the gifts of God”.  Every good thing.  But certainly not just our money and possessions.  As we sing “All that we have is thine alone, a trust oh Lord, from thee”.

When we speak of Christian Stewardship – which is a common topic for churches in these last Sundays of the church year – we might define stewardship just this way.  That we aren’t owners, but simply managers, trustees of the gifts of God.  He gives us this life and everything in it – on loan – but he will someday settle accounts.  Life will end.  The world will end.  And we want to make sure that we’ve done well with God’s stuff.

But the character of the master is an important point in this parable.  What kind of man is he?  Generous or hard?  Kind to his servants, or harsh?  Well it seems you’d get a different answer from the first two servants than the third.  And so it is with the spiritual reality.  You might say that we see here two different approaches to God himself – a gospel based faith, and a law-based works righteousness. 

The Christian sees God not as harsh and stern but as loving, kind, generous, gracious.  We seem him first as the giver of all good things.  We are thankful for the blessings he’s entrusted to our care.  And this, in turn motivates us to use the gifts for his glory and the benefit of our neighbor.  To invest with confidence, knowing that we rest secure in his good graces, and to do our good works not out of fear, but faith.  This is how it ought to be.

But if you see the master as a hard man, reaping where he did not sow, gathering where he scattered no seed – then perhaps you’re not seeing the seed he has in fact sown!  Perhaps you’re misjudging the character of the master – and seeing him only as a judge and not as a loving provider.  This view of the master can only lead us a place of fear.  And fear does not lend itself to good works, self-sacrifice, and love of neighbor.  For the man in the parable his gift was no good to him or the master – he buried it.  And such a faith that is buried and not exercised is no faith at all – it is dead.  And people bury things that are considered dead. Gifts of God that aren’t used for his good purposes become rather a curse. 

Take money, for example.  A good gift of God.  Something he gives us to use and manage well.  But if we don’t order this part of our lives in faith, we can only fail.  We will never give enough, or be selfless enough, or be able to remain free of greed and covetousness and misuse of money.  The law won’t let us off the hook.  But according to faith – we have great freedom to use the gifts he freely gives us without fear.  We are free to give generously, with a clean conscience, knowing the true character of the giver – and thus reflecting that character in how we manage the gifts.  Free to give to support his work, free to give to help our neighbor in need.

But money is just one kind of gift.  Even faith itself is a gift to be managed and exercised for his good purposes.  A gift to be shared, not buried.  A gift to be invested and grown. 

The unbeliever, much like the third man, he doesn’t see God clearly.  He might even criticize a view of God that demands something of us – as if God is an unjust god.  As if it’s unfair of him to expect us to be perfect as he is perfect, to follow his commandments, to avoid and remain free of sin.  And holy can a just God expect me to be free of sin when each of us is born into sin?  Or, the person thinks they ARE a good person, they HAVE done good works, they DO deserve God’s favor, when their talent is covered with dirt and doesn’t impress the master at all.  It’s really not about the talent, then, is it, after all?

But with the faithful, the master isn’t so concerned with the amount of growth, or the talents at all, but with the servant’s faithfulness.  He’s not concerned about the good works, except that they are evidence of faith.  For these servants, like all servants of the master, like you and me too – are saved only by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, and not in any good works of our own.  No amount of generosity or kindness is enough.  No shrewd dealings or careful investment of our resources will avail.  No keeping of the rules, following the commands, fulfilling of the law will cause the master to finally judge us worthy.  Instead, we can only stand before his final judgment cleansed and pardoned by the blood of Jesus Christ, crucified for sinners.

As Jesus turns his eye toward his return in glory, he knows he goes away, and he knows he will return. So he prepares his disciples, and also us.  He encourages us to be faithful, mindful of his gifts and goodness, and to do all that we do out of love and not fear.

And here’s a wonderful promise, too.  The faithful servants will hear these wonderful words:  “You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.”

For the faithful, there awaits joy.  The joy of an eternity with the master.  For the faithful over little, they are set over much.  The best this world has to offer pales in comparison to the glory that is to be revealed.  The wonders of a blessed eternity that Christ is even now preparing in the mansions of heaven.

So be watchful, Christian, yes.  But also be faithful.  Trust the good master who will return to settle his accounts.  Trust his promises to all who are in him.  And you will be commended by him, and invited into the joy of the master.

 

Sermon - 23rd Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 25:1-13

Amos 5:18-24

1 Thessalonians 4:13-18

Matthew 25:1-13"The Day of the Lord"

Welcome to the last three Sundays of the church calendar, in which our attention is turned to the last things, the end times, the second coming of Christ and the kingdom to come.  We know that history has an end.  There is a day on God’s calendar – circled in red.  We don’t know when it will be, but he has promised us this sinful, fallen, broken-down world will not go on like this forever. 

Our readings for today each take a different look at that day.  Let’s take a look at each of them for a better picture of just what’s in store on that day, that final day, the Day of the Lord.

But the Day of the Lord can mean not only the Last Day (as in, THE Last Day).  It can also mean the day in which the Lord acts, decisively, in judgment and mercy.  In some sense Good Friday was the Day of the Lord – the day in which Christ acted to secure and guarantee the victory for us all by his cross.  The Day of the Lord, the day in which God acts, might be the day in which he comes again in glory.  It’s similar to the way John the Baptist and Jesus himself speak about the “Kingdom of God” being at hand.  The reign and rule of God is about to happen – God’s about to do something.  So sit up and pay attention!

The Day of the Lord, in this sense, can be different depending on the hearer.  And certainly, also, in a sense, it can mean, for each of us, the day of our death.  The day in which we meet our Maker.  And the Day of the Lord was the same day – but it was certainly experienced as a very different day, but the wise and the foolish virgins in our Gospel reading.  We’ll get there in a just a few moments.

First, let’s take Amos, then.  The prophet Amos was a bearer of bad news during the time of the divided kingdom, a prophet from the south, with a message of doom and gloom for the people of the north. 

Amos comes to disabuse them of a false sense of security.  They were looking forward to a day – a day of deliverance – a day of victory – the Day of the Lord.  Their enemies the Assyrians were looming large, a wicked and brutal empire that threatened destruction.  But they felt quite secure, because, hey – they were doing all the right things.  Outwardly, anyway, their religion was tip-top.  All the right sacrifices.  All the right festivals.  All the important observances.  But there was a problem.  Their heart wasn’t in it.  It was all for show.  They worshipped in vain.  They didn’t truly believe.

We are tempted to the same, aren’t we?  A great church with a brand new organ and reverent ceremonies and no-nonsense liturgical worship.  A beautiful sanctuary and regular services every Sunday.  Outwardly, it might look like we too are doing all the right things.  But then we could look a little closer.  We could peer inside the heart.  Take a look inside your own.

The first table of God’s law accuses us here.  We do have other gods, don’t we, that take the place of the true God.  We let other things take his place in our life.  Maybe it’s money or possessions.  Maybe it’s our own status or our creature comforts.  Maybe it’s even our politics.  Where do we truly place our fear, love, and trust?  And if those other things should be taken away – those false gods ripped from us – what is left for us but despair?

And so Amos says to the Israelites, “oh, you’re looking forward to the Day of the Lord, are you? Well you shouldn’t!  Because it’s not going to turn out the way you think it will!”  You may escape the lion, only to run into the bear.  You may make it out of the frying pan, only to fall into the fire.  You can’t escape God’s judgment.  The wages of sin is death.

And sure enough, the prophet knows best.  History bears out.  The Assyrians do come, and they do destroy, pillage, murder and disperse the Israelites.  The land is laid waste. God’s day of judgment for them could not be avoided, any more than an sinner can avoid the final day of wrath – apart from Christ.

Far better to heed the prophetic word and repent.  Far better to rend our hearts and be disabused of complacency and false comfort.  For then the healing balm of the Gospel is applied.  Then the soothing comfort of Christ’s mercy does its work.  Then the true problem is addressed, the sin is forgiven, and death and despair give way to life and hope.

The Day of the Lord.  We shouldn’t rest in our own merits and look forward to that day with a false sense of security.  Nor should we grow complacent and neglectful of the true worship of repentance and faith in Christ.  We ought not despair of that day as if we are stuck in our sins with no recourse.  But in Christ we can look forward to the day – the final Day of the Lord in joy and hope and peace. 

That’s how Paul describes the end in his letter to the Thessalonians.  Paul gives us words to “encourage one another”.  And boy do they.  He especially teaches us that the Christians who have fallen asleep are not gone forever – but that their death is like a sleep – in that they will awake, arise, and live.  When Christ comes again in glory with the angelic shout and trumpet call of God – the dead in Christ will rise, and we also will be changed.  Our bodies will be glorified and made ready for eternity, ready to meet Christ.  And so we will meet him in the air, and be with him forever.

Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it?  Could it be any more stark a contrast between Amos’ view of the Day of the Lord?  For the ancient Israelites – the Day of the Lord was a death they should dread.  For Christians who receive the comfort of Paul – the Day of the Lord couldn’t be pictured any better!  We get to be with our loved ones who have fallen asleep in Christ.  And even better, we all get to be with Jesus.  Now there is some encouragement.

And Jesus himself both encourages and warns us about that day – with his parable of the 10 virgins.  They are all waiting, waiting for the bridegroom to arrive – and when he does, the party will begin!  They are waiting – but it seems like forever, the hour grows late, and so they fall asleep.  But then he comes – suddenly – and only some are found ready – ready with their oil, ready to go in and join the feast.  The foolish virgins have to go on a wild goose chase for oil, and then never get in to the banquet anyway – the door is shut.  The bridegroom doesn’t know them.  They’re left out, shut out, and so they miss out on all the fun.

Now, we could try and peg every element of this parable down – and some have – to one extent or another.  What does the oil stand for?  Who are the wise and the unwise virgins?  Where do they buy the oil?  (and if oil is faith can you really purchase it?)  Who are the oil-dealers?  And what does it mean that all fell asleep but only some had oil?  Instead of getting bogged down in all the details, this kind of parable is better understood with particular attention to the main point of Jesus:  the greater point which he provides at the end of his story – “Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

Watchfulness.  A key quality for the wise Christian.  Watching for the bridegroom, Jesus Christ, who has promised to return – but unexpectedly.  Like a thief in the night.  Watching, for he can come at any time, on any day.  Watching and waiting and being prepared for his second advent.

But how do we watch and prepare?  By doing lots of church?  No, that didn’t work for the Old Testament people – at least not in and of itself.  Religious rites and ceremonies themselves are nothing if they are only outward.  The God who desires mercy, not sacrifice is the Bridegroom who comes looking for repentance and faith!  Now there’s the true readiness, watchfulness, preparedness.  Believing in Jesus.  Now there’s a full lamp – that’ll get you to the party.  The Word of God and the Sacraments prepare us, too – they are the means of grace that create faith in us, that faith by which Christ saves us.  Watchfulness, then, means, particular attention to these things- hearing the word, receiving the gifts.  Not only outwardly, but in true faith.

And then, when the Bridegroom comes, he knows you.  Just as the Good Shepherd knows his sheep and his sheep know him.  So the bridegroom will say to the unwise, “depart from here I don’t even know you” and to the wise, the faithful, the watchful – “come on in, join the party”.

Watch and pray, Christian.  Be faithful, Christian.  Avail yourself of the gifts he gives, Christian.  And so be wise, we watchful, and be ready.

In Jesus’ Name.  Amen.

Sermon - All Saints' Day - Matthew 5:1-12

“Blessed Saints”

Matthew 5:1-12

A blessed All Saints Day to you.  This is a very old Christian observance, dating back to at least the 700s AD.  It is marked in different ways by different denominations and in different countries around the world.  But the common theme is the recognition of the saints of God – all the holy people who have gone before us, especially, into glory.  We Lutherans, in particular, take note that saints are not just the most holy Christians, the cream of the crop – but that every Christian is a saint – a sinner and a saint, simultaneously – and we wonder at such a great tension and mystery.

Our readings for today show forth different perspectives on all the saints.  In the book of Revelation, we see several pictures of the saints, and here in chapter 7, the church is pictured in her final glory.  A gathering from every nation, victorious, waving palm branches, singing God’s praise (in a song we echo today), and clothed in white robes washed clean in the blood of the Lamb. We might point out that this is a timeless picture of an eternal reality.  Therefore in that crowd is every Christian, including you. 

Then of course you have 1 John 3.  The All Saints connection there is in John’s description of Christians as beloved children of God.  They are also the ones who are purified in Christ – much like the robes of the multitude in the Revelation reading.  Loved by God are all the saints.  Children of God are all the saints, purified by Christ.

But today let’s focus on the Gospel reading, from Matthew 5.  The beginning of the Sermon on the Mount.  The well-loved passage of Christians everywhere – the beatitudes.  Here, the key descriptor of God’s people, the key word that applies to all Christians is:  Blessed.

It may strike us as strange.  For the conditions Jesus describes, at least in some of these verses, we might not think of those sorts of people has having a blessing.  The poor in spirit?  That doesn’t sound so good.  Those who mourn?  Who wants to do that?  The meek?  No, we admire the bold, the brave, the proud.  And hungering and thirsting for something surely means a lack, not a blessing.  And let’s not even bring up those who are persecuted.  That’s more of a curse than a blessing, at least according to our way of thinking.

As for the merciful, pure in heart and peacemakers – well those seem like things that we should be – but things that we don’t always live up to.  These blessings seem more like accusations, standards to meet that remind us of our failures.  Blessed are those – sure – if we could be them.  We’re not as merciful and peace-making as we ought to be.  And we’re surely not pure in heart.

No, at first blush, these beatitudes don’t make sense for a number of reasons.  Jesus seems to be on an entirely different page – disconnected from reality.  The people who are blessed or bless-ed are supposed to be the people who are happy, have everything, the rich and famous, the powerful and the good.  The people we admire, who have it all.  “They’ve been so blessed”.  The super-Christians or the super-happy Christians or the super-successful Christians and what have you.  Not us miserable, wretched, sin-plagues people who have nothing to offer but our own neediness. 

But here is the beauty of his kingdom.  Here is the wonder of his grace.  Here is the true blessing of Jesus, that he doesn’t see it that way. 

3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Poor in spirit.  While being poor doesn’t sounds desirable to us, Jesus says spiritual poverty is a blessing.  But he doesn’t mean in and of itself.  Rather, this is the Jesus who came as a physician for the sick, not the healthy.  He came to save sinners, not the righteous.  So if you are rich in spirit, if you have it all (or think you do), then you don’t need Jesus.  But blessed are you if you recognize your poverty and need.  Blessed are you because Christ Jesus comes with blessings for just such beggars. 

4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.

In a similar way, no one aspires to be a mourner.  Mourning supposes death.  And no one likes to face that.  Not the death of a loved one.  Not my own death either.  But death means sin, the wages and the cause, the horse and the cart.  And only those who bring their sins to Jesus, who mourn their sins, despise their sins, repent of their sins – only those receive his comfort.  If you celebrate your sin, if you embrace it, if you find comfort in your sin – then he has no comfort for you.  But blessed are those who mourn, for no one has better comfort than Jesus.

5 “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

The meek, not the proud, shall inherit the earth.  It’s the opposite of how we see it now – when arrogant men with huge egos and prideful boldness tend to win the day.  Alpha dogs who don’t let anyone stand in their way and who “get things done!” 

But the meek?  Who are they, even?  They are the humble, the lowly, those who don’t make much of themselves.  Not the Pharisee who prays for all to see but the tax collector who beats his breast and prays hiding in the closet.  The meek shall inherit the earth – the new heaven and new earth will dawn, and the proud will be left outside.  The humble and lowly will enter the eternal kingdom. 

6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be satisfied.

We know little, these days, of hunger or thirst.  About the closest we have gotten may have been in the early part of the coronavirus panic this year, when store shelves had a hard time keeping up with demand.  Thanks be to God he spared us from a famine on top of disease. 

But Jesus speaks here of a hunger and thirst for righteousness.  A deep yearning for that which we don’t have and which we desperately need.  If you hunger and thirst for righteousness, that means you admit you don’t have it of yourself.  It means you can only hope to receive it from the one who feeds and gives drink to his people.

Ah, and he satisfies.  He gives us the food and drink of his word – the rich diet of law and gospel that trains and equips us for righteousness.  And just as much – he gives an actual meal of heavenly fare, a feast for the body and soul, the bread and wine that is Christ’s body and blood, given and shed for you – for forgiveness.  What could be better?

7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.

These next three hold out some ideals for us Christians.  So far the beatitudes have described what we truly lack, if we can only see it.  Now we hear what we ought to do and be, if we could only attain it.  We want to be merciful, but are we?  Rather, do we find ourselves holding out on mercy, looking instead for just desserts?  Wanting the person who wronged us to pay, and pay dearly? 

8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

Pure in heart.  There’s a standard we’ll never attain on our own.  Jesus says out of the heart come sinful thoughts, desires, and all kinds of evil.  Our hearts are corrupt, not pure.  But we would pray with David, “Create in me a clean heart, Oh God, and renew a right spirit within me.”  Jesus comes to restore and renew even the heart, the very innermost source of our corruption is cleansed, purified, made holy in him.  It’s as complete as the death and rebirth of our baptism.  It’s as sure as his promise and declaration on the cross, “it is finished”. 
Thus purified by him, we are fit to stand before God, in his presence, to see God.  As Job said, “with my own eyes…” even “after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I will stand”

9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God.

Again, we would attain to be peacemakers and see ourselves fail.  We can make conflict fairly well.  We can join in the fray with ease.  We can sit on our high horse of pride and let the conflict fester, because I didn’t start it and he or she is in the wrong, and they need to come crawling to me…. But peacemaking is not so easy.

Unless you’re Jesus, who makes peace between us and God.  Who brings a peace which passes all understanding.  Peace not as the world gives, does he give to you.  A peace that is rooted in the gospel, the rest for your soul.  A peace that empowers you to make peace with your brothers and sisters and with all.

10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

11 “Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Now finally, persecution.  Not a very blessed state of being, most of us would say, especially when you find yourself in it.  Not something we aspire to.  But also not something that shows a lack in us.  Rather, according to Jesus, a cause for rejoicing.  What?

Yes, because it puts you in good company.  So they persecuted the prophets before you. Rejoice.  Great is your reward in heaven.  Rejoice.  When they revile you Christian, when they say nasty things about you, Christian, when they speak all kinds of evil against you, Christian – it’s really because of Christ.  It’s for the sake of righteousness – the righteousness that he earned, that he has, and that he gives to you freely as a blessing. 

None of these beatitudes make sense from a worldly point of view.  But in Christ, it all comes together.  We are blessed saints of God in Jesus Christ.  Though we lack our own merit and work, our own good works surely fail to measure up, and though we find ourselves even persecuted and hated…  blessed are we, blessed are you, in Jesus Christ, here and now, and there in eternity.  Blessed, with all the saints in glory, blessed forever and ever amen.  In Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

 

Sermon - Reformation Day - Revlation 14:6-7

 

Then I saw another angel flying directly overhead, with an eternal gospel to proclaim to those who dwell on earth, to every nation and tribe and language and people. And he said with a loud voice, “Fear God and give him glory, because the hour of his judgment has come, and worship him who made heaven and earth, the sea and the springs of water.”

Perhaps you’ve heard the old joke about the man who goes to heaven, and sees all the different doors, with each denomination of Christian worshipping in their own way.  But the door marked, “Lutheran” also bears a sign, “quiet please”.  And when the man asks why, St. Peter explains, “Shh.  They think they’re the only ones here!”

I can take a joke as well as anyone, but it’s just not true.  We recognize the universal church far transcends those of us who call ourselves “Lutheran”.  I fully expect to see Baptists and Roman Catholics, Orthodox and Methodists in Heaven.  All who call on the name of Jesus Christ, have true faith in him, will be saved.  We Lutherans are not the only Christians.  And we are certainly not the only ones who will go to heaven.  Lutherans have never taught this.

However, that’s not to say that the differences don’t matter.  It’s not to say that we should sweep disagreements aside, and act as if we are all united.  We live in a fallen world, where knowingly or unknowingly, God’s holy Word is twisted and worked over, even by those who profess to be Christians.  Even the pope, this week, said some things that fly in the face of basic Christian teaching. 

We should not be surprised.  The Old Evil Foe has been doing sowing lies and deceit from the beginning, when he led us astray with his question, “did God really say...?”  And he continues to cast doubt wherever he can today.  It is a grievous situation that the church on earth is not united in the truth, as Jesus prayed in John 17.  Sin corrupts.  It even corrupts doctrine.

And yet despite all of this, the word of the Lord stands forever.  There is a universal and timeless truth to it.  Or as John puts it in our reading from Revelation, an “eternal gospel”. 

This is what the Reformation is truly about – the Gospel – the eternal Gospel.  Sure there’s the selling of indulgences.  Sure there’s the false claims of the pope, and the doctrines of man that had infected the church.  The church needed reform in its morality, its institution, and in many other ways.  But of course the central issue was and is really about the Gospel – the teaching of God’s grace in Christ.  The good news of salvation by grace through faith alone.  The Reformation, therefore, was not about a new teaching, but a timeless teaching, an eternal Gospel that would stand the test of time.

And this eternal gospel is a gospel to be proclaimed, “to those who dwell on earth, to every nation and tribe and language and people.”  Friends, we are all living proof of this, even today.  That 500 years after Luther and 2000 years after the apostles and hundreds more after the prophets of old – that we have inherited the very same promises of God in Jesus Christ, is a blessing of no small measure! 

The Gospel is timeless and eternal, but it is also concrete and time-bound.  The Lamb of God was slain from the foundation of the world.  And though heaven and earth will pass away, he teaches, my words will never pass away.  The word of the Lord endures forever.  And yet, that word comes to us in time, and space.  We gather at a location, and hear it from a particular pulpit, from the lips of a particular pastor.  The Word is ever near you, in your ear, and on your heart.  It is a word that renews you daily.  And Jesus himself, the living word, is with you always, even to the end of the age.  So of course his Gospel is eternal.

And it is universal - that is, it is for people of all places and tribes and nationalities.  But it is also particular, that is, it is for you.  You have come to faith by the proclamation of the eternal Gospel.  You are baptized into the eternal, triune name of God.  And you continue to live by that same eternal gospel which you hear again and again, and which continues to give life.

Just what is this eternal gospel?

It is the whole and sum of God’s word to you, the sinner.  It is the good news of salvation in Jesus Christ. 

It is the incarnation, the perfect law-keeping, the suffering, the death and the resurrection of Christ, for you. 

It is the fact of his promise that your sins are forgiven, that you belong to him, for you were bought with a price. 

It is the seal and certainty of our baptism, it is the eating and drinking of Christ’s body and blood for our forgiveness. 

It is justification, by grace, through faith, in Christ alone. 

It is the confession of Christ before the church and the world, before governors and kings.  The confession of the old and the young, even from the mouths of babes.

It is the work of Christ, and Christ alone - for you, on you, in you and given to you. 

The eternal gospel is Jesus, and all that is wrapped up in him; Christ, crucified for sinners, alive for sinners, who will come again to judge the living and the dead and make all things new.

To say we are “Lutheran”, is to say that we confess the eternal Gospel.  To say we are Lutheran means that we believe what God’s word teaches, and has always taught.  That sinners are saved by grace through faith in Christ.  That when God makes a promise, he keeps it, even when it doesn’t make sense to us.  That the heart and soul of our faith is not about what we do or don’t do, or should or shouldn’t do, but about what our Lord Jesus Christ objectively has done, and continues to do for us.

I believe, and I confess that the Evangelical Lutheran Church - the church which confesses the writings of the Book of Concord - confesses the eternal gospel with truth and purity.  And I hope you can say the same.

There was nothing special about the reformers, really.  There was nothing exceptional about Martin Luther.  What makes this confession worthy of our attention, is its crystal clear presentation of the eternal gospel.  No cooperation with God, no act of human will or reason.  No experience or heartfelt yearning is necessary, or even relevant.  Jesus Christ comes to save sinners, to heal the broken, and raise the dead.  Which we all were in our sins, completely beyond hope.  Lost eternally.

But the eternal gospel gives hope to the hopeless, righteousness to sinners, and breathes life into the walking dead.

In a way, all those who confess this gospel confess the same.  And all those who believe and teach it, could in a sense be called, “Lutheran”.  I’ll often make a joke of my own, about how Lutheran Abraham was, who believed in God and was credited as righteous.  Or how Lutheran David was, who when confronted by Nathan about his adultery and murder confessed, “I have sinned”.  Or how Lutheran were the prophets and patriarchs, and all the believers of old - who Hebrews says looked forward by faith to the salvation God would accomplish in Christ alone.  They were believers in the eternal Gospel.  They were Lutherans.  They just didn’t know it.

And that is why, also, there will only be Lutherans in heaven.  For when the dust settles, and we see all things clearly, and all falsehood and misunderstanding melts away - we will see Christ and his word clearly.  His eternal gospel will stand.  And we will all of us, together, believe and know that salvation is by Christ alone, for us, forever.

Being Lutheran, you see, isn’t about Luther at all.  It’s about Christ.  It’s not about me or you, and what we can bring to the table.  We have only wretched sin.  Instead, it’s about Christ, and what he brought to the cross - himself, and gave his body and blood there, for you.  Receive that same body and blood today, for the forgiveness of your sins, according to the promise of his eternal gospel.

And have a blessed Reformation day.

Sermon - 20th Sunday after Pentecost - Matthew 22:15-22

“The Things of God”

“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s”

Today we have this wonderful saying of Jesus in answer to the Pharisees’ disciples and the Herodians.  By it, he confounds and outfoxes them.  He once again beats them at their game.  They sought to entangle him in his words, get him in hot water with either the crowds or the Roman overlords.  They wanted him out of the way, but it would take more than just a contest of words to do so.  The Eternal, Creative, Living Word made Flesh will not be entangled by humans using their own scrawny and puny words against him.

But even more, with this answer he also teaches a timeless and universal truth for the benefit of his church.  A short saying in which is compacted a treasure trove of guidance and instruction, for life in this world, and for life in the kingdom of God.  And so it is especially upon this sentence we concentrate today:  “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s”

Caesar.  The top dog, at least in terms of the world.  The Romans had been in charge of the place for about 100 years at this point, and the Jews didn’t like it one little bit. The Romans were pagans. The Romans were cruel.  They crucified people.  They taxed their subjects and appointed locals to do their dirty taxing.  And I’m sure the Jewish people had a much longer laundry list of complaints against Rome.  Here’s another one – Caesar claimed to me divine!  A son of the gods!  He even had his face stamped on the denarius with these words included: 'Tiberius Caesar, son of the divine August' and on the other side 'Pontifex Maximus' which title 'high priest' . . . making him both the highest civil and the highest religious ruler of the land.

Who would want to pay taxes to such an outfit?  Who would want their hard earned money taken from them, at the point of a sword if necessary, to do whatever corrupt and pagan things Romans do with money?  And what good Jew would want to lend any credence to the idea that the man on the throne in Rome was divine, or a high priest.  No, they rather found the whole idea repugnant.

Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, Jesus says.  His face is on it.  So give it to him.  And with such a short turn of phrase, Jesus both shows honor to the office and implies condemnation of the man.  He teaches the proper use of money, and shows us what it is truly worth – nothing.  He despises it.

Now don’t get me wrong, and certainly let’s not get Jesus wrong.  He is saying to pay your taxes.  And more than that, he’s telling you to give to the government whatever is due.  As Paul says in Romans, in a slightly longer fashion:  “Pay to all what is owed to them: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed.” (Romans 13:7)

And taken in the context of all that Jesus teaches about money and earthly goods – he warns us about making them into our gods.  He calls it all “mammon”.  He tells us the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil.  And the rich man has great difficulty to enter the kingdom.  He tells parables about foolish and wicked rich men.  And he tells us “blessed are the poor”.

And Jesus isn’t teaching us that money is in itself a bad thing either – it’s all in the use of it.  He rather commends the poor widow for her offering of two coins – that she gave more than all the primping and preening Pharisees who loved it when everyone heard all their coins clanging in the offering box.  The gifts and offerings of the faithful are commended by God.  The Lord loves a cheerful giver.

Jesus calls us first today to render unto Caesar.  That is, to check and see if we truly honor and obey the authorities he places over us.  But it’s far more than paying taxes.  It goes to obedience to the representatives of God – despite them being sinful human beings themselves.  If we can render to Caesar what is Caesar’s, then we can respect our own parents, our boss, our leaders, We can even love and cherish them.  A hard pill to swallow for many of us.

And so his words of rebuke to his opponents are also words of conviction and correction and a principle of guidance for us.  They also accuse us, for we don’t render to Caesar as we should. 

But perhaps the more weighty part of Jesus’ equation is, “Render to God what is God’s”.  And that screams a question to begging for answer, “What then, are the things of God?  What belongs to God?  What do we owe God?” And the answer, of course, is “Everything”.

Whatever belongs to Caesar, first of all and last of all, belongs to God.  Caesar is God’s Caesar.  We honor the earthly authorities precisely for this reason.  But while the unbeliever is bound, in his mind, only to the powers-that-be of this world, Christians also have a conscience captive to the Word of God.  We are subject to both tables of the law.  We are governed by all the commandments.  We must love our neighbor AND our God fully and perfectly. 

So what are the things of God?  What we owe him, what he is due.  Oh how we’ve failed and what a debt we’ve accrued!

We must acknowledge that the earth is the Lord’s and everything in it.  And he would demand of us not just a token portion, but our whole life.  “Take my life and let it be” we sing.  We are his creation.  We belong to him.  You are not your own, you were bought with a price, therefore honor God in your body. But we act rather as if we belong to ourselves.  It’s my life, I’ll do what I want.  It’s my body.  It’s my time.  Mine, not God’s.  My things, not God’s things on loan to me.

And if the denarius is marked with the image of Caesar, and that coin belongs to him.  You are marked and made in the image of God – for in the image of God he created them, male and female.  And so you belong to your creator and maker.  Job (1:21) said: "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I shall return there. The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord" As such, he is the Lord of your life, and he alone numbers it’s days.

Yes, you are made in the image of God.  Ah, but you’re a broken image.  Marred by your sins.  Blurred and unrecognizable. Just like me. You need a re-print, a re-minting, a renewal of heart and mind, a death and resurrection.  And Jesus Christ does just that.

Jesus himself is “the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.” (Col. 1:15). Such as the Father is, such is the Son.  And the God-man came, first of all, to restore the broken image of Adam in a life of perfect righteousness.  But fix your eyes on Jesus, and on the image of Christ crucified, if you really want to see the things of God.  Behold the cross, where the Lamb of God takes away the sins of the world, and of you.  The blood of Jesus upon us and on our children, which washes our robes to make them clean.  The baptism of Jesus, by which we are buried and raised with Christ anew.  These are the things of God, that he gives to you by grace.

And what do we render unto God that is God’s, what does God want from us more than anything and everything?  Our faith.  The cattle on a thousand hills are his.  He doesn’t need your offerings, you good works, your inward or outward piety.  He wants your fear, love and trust.  He wants you to receive what he wants to give you.  The things of God, in this way, he renders unto you.

This world would teach us to hold on to what is ours.  It is a world of rights and property and wages and laws.  From an early age we learn to keep score, to keep our possessions, what’s mine is mine and what’s yours is yours.  And there is some good in that.  It preserves order.  It curbs sin.

But the things of God are so much more.  The things of Christ are free.  They are given freely.  They are grace, mercy, love, kindness.  They are received by us but to be given just as freely.  So that when we love our neighbor, we might also see in him, the image of God.  So that when we visit, feed, clothe and care for the brother, inasmuch as we do it to the least of these, we do it unto Christ.

On my heart imprint your image,

Blessed Jesus, King of grace;

That life’s riches, cares and pleasures

Never may Your work erase;

Let the clear inscription be:

Jesus, crucified for me,

Is my life, my hope’s foundation,

And my glory and salvation.