Wednesday, January 27, 2021

Sermon - Epiphany 3 (Life Sunday) - Jonah 3:1-5,10

There are many aspects of the true story of Jonah that are worth thinking about. Most of us know the Sunday School basics – that God called Jonah to preach, Jonah ran away, and ended up as “fish food”. God then had the fish spit Jonah out on dry land – safe and sound (if perhaps a little smelly) – and renewed his instructions for Jonah to go and preach. That’s where our Old Testament reading picks up today.

What many forget, or never learn about the book of Jonah is the reason WHY Jonah was so reluctant. God was calling Jonah to preach in Nineveh, the capital city of the Assyrian empire. And Jonah knew full well these were not nice people. I have often called them the “Old Testament Nazis”. The Assyrians were notorious for wartime atrocities, including rape, pillaging, torture, and even atrocities against pregnant women.  They didn’t just defeat enemies, they maximized cruelty in doing so.

Jonah knew that if he was sent to Nineveh, and preached God’s word, and if the Ninevites repented, that God was a merciful God who would relent from his judgment, and forgive their sins. Jonah didn’t want to see that happen. He wanted to see fire and brimstone rain down on Nineveh, like they did when God judged Sodom and Gomorrah. He didn’t want Nineveh to be forgiven. But Jonah is made the fool by the end of the story, as God asks the rhetorical question, “Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people… should I not be concerned about that great city?” It seems Jonah too had something to learn about the value of God’s gift of life.

January 22nd, is an infamous anniversary. Our nation has now marked 48 years since Roe v. Wade, a Supreme Court decision effectively legalizing abortion. I won’t quote statistics to you, but the numbers of abortions each year are still staggering. The crosses you might have seen at the church entrance today – 157 of them – represent the estimated number of daily abortions in the U.S.  We are up to an estimated total of 61 million since 1973.  While some progress has been made in eliminating this particularly sinful and barbaric affront to God’s gift of life, our nation as a whole still has much to answer for when it comes to the sin, and yes it is a sin, of abortion.

 

Perhaps you personally know someone who has had an abortion. Perhaps you personally have had an abortion. One of the least talked about effects of abortion is the heavy burden of guilt it brings.

Many women who have abortions suffer under the weight of this guilt for years – struggling with depression and even showing higher rates of suicide. But there is another secret which is not told often enough. There is forgiveness in Christ.

Yes, the same God who could forgive even the Ninevites, those wicked people – can forgive us even the sin of abortion. If you know someone who carries this burden of guilt – don’t be the reluctant Jonah who withholds God’s forgiveness. If you are complicit, or perhaps even someone who has sinned in this way – then hear now from this called and ordained servant of the Word that Christ offers forgiveness – yes very much to YOU! His blood shed at the cross covers all sins – even the sin of abortion. So great is his abounding mercy.

But not all of us have such personal concerns about the sin of abortion. This doesn’t let us off the hook, though. We humans are inventive when it comes to debasing God’s gift of life. Sin takes many forms, no less sinning against the 5th commandment. “Thou Shalt Not Commit Murder” says God through Moses.

Luther asks, “What does this mean?” and answers:

“We should fear and love God that we may not hurt or harm our neighbor in his body, but help and befriend him in every bodily need.”

This means there are other ways of sinning against God’s gift of Life:

· Physically harming our neighbor in any way (by our actions)

· Failing to help when we can (by our inaction)

· Disrespecting God’s role as giver (and taker) of life

– from cradle to grave, the unborn to those near the end of life.

· Treating our own life with less value than God means for it – even to such things how we handle our health – not eating well and exercising enough.

· Doing those “little things” which tear away at life, contribute to our culture of death, and fail to appreciate our Creator’s handiwork.

The gift of life is one of God’s most precious to us. For in it, he has created us in his own image. We are reflections of him. All human life is therefore precious to God, and worthy of our care. And for all the ways we sin against human life, we need, like the Ninevites, to repent of our wicked ways.

And Just as God showed mercy to the Ninevites, God shows mercy to us. They didn’t know their forgiveness was based on the work of a Christ who was yet to come. We know ours is based on the Christ who has indeed come! Jesus tells us the very reason he comes in John 10, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”

Jesus is the Lord of Life who gave his life to ransom our lives. He gave his life on the cross to deal a death-blow to death. He gave his most precious life to bring us the precious gift of life in his name.

Jesus goes on to say of his life, “No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again.”

And we know that he has such authority over life and death because death could not hold him. We see his authority over death in the empty tomb of Easter. The sign of Jonah!  And there, with the stone rolled back and the grave left behind, we see a glimpse of our new life too. His authority over death and life is not only for himself, you see, but for our benefit too!

Christ brings new life.

He brings us a future that goes beyond the seeming end that is death. In a world that teaches such nihilistic sound-bytes as, “Life stinks, and then you die”. But Jesus brings true hope. Though a popular song lyric says, “Life is just a party, and party’s aren’t meant to last”.  We Christians cannot completely agree.  Life is a precious gift, and it was meant to last until sin brought death.  And yet, death is not the end for us. There is more. A blessed, eternal, wonderful existence – LIVING – with God forever.  The real party hasn’t even begun. 

This life we are promised, a life beyond death, means not just a dis-embodied existence as some ephemeral spirit. The Christian hope is in the resurrection of the body – yes, that’s OUR body – as we confess in the Creed. “Though my skin be destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God”, as the book of Job reads. The final hope of Christians for the future is a physical eternal life in a re-created, resurrected body!

But that life that Jesus brings is more than just a future hope. Eternal life, for the Christian, begins not when we die and go to heaven – it begins in the waters of baptism, as we are reborn in the Holy Spirit. Our life with God, our eternal life, is something we enjoy even now – though we will see it even more fully in the new heaven and new earth.

We might say as Martha did at the tomb of Lazarus, “yes, Jesus, I know about the…resurrection at the last day." To which he would answer us as he did her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.”

As we lament a particular day, 48 years ago, in which human life was dealt a sad blow – let us also turn from our own sins against God’s gift of life. And let us remember a day 2000 years ago, in which sin was destroyed and death itself was dealt the final blow. As Jesus gave his life for ours, and brought new life in abundance, may we ever treasure the precious gift of life – life here, and life to come – life in his name, forever, Amen.

Wednesday, January 20, 2021

Sermon - Epiphany 2 - John 1:43-51


Epiphany 2

John 1:43-51

The Epiphany Season gives us a chance to delve deep into the revelation of who Jesus Christ really is. This Christmas, we celebrated his birth, and wondered, “What child is this?” Now in Epiphany, the questions (and answers) keep on coming. Who do men say that I am? You are the Christ. Who does God say that he is? This is my beloved Son.

Well, what would these would-be-disciples say that Jesus is? Phillip tells Nathanael about him. He seems to not know exactly what to call him, but he knows Jesus is someone special. He doesn't use the word Messiah, but the idea wasn't too far from his mind. Phillip knows Jesus is some kind of leader, for he answers his call to follow him. And he tells Nathanael he should follow too. Because this is “him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.”

How did he know? What did he really know about Jesus? And yet, somehow, faith had taken root. He had heard, to some extent, the word of God concerning this Jesus. And he had heard the call to faith, and the call to follow. Phillip didn't come to this through superior study, through extreme spirituality, or some other exertion of effort. Like you and I, called to faith by the Spirit, through the word.

Then there's Nathanael. Not at the same point in his faith as Phillip. When he hears of Jesus, he is skeptical. “Nazareth! Can anything good come from Nazareth!?” A rhetorical question, but a good theological question. We could change the names and places and ask the same question. Keller! Can anything good come from Keller, Texas?! Green Bay, Wisconsin! Certainly nothing good can come from there. Baltimore? New York? Fargo? Singapore? Take your pick, throw out your own rhetorical question. Fill in the blank with wherever it is that you are from. The answer will be the same. No.

Nothing good can come from any of these places, because the men and women that come from these places are sinners. You and I are sinners. You and I have nothing good to bring. Even our best works are as filthy rags, and who would be interested in that?

No, by nature, Nathanael isn't all that impressed with the idea of this messiah from Nazareth. And by nature, neither are we. A humble Jesus who suffers and dies for our sins just doesn't impress our Old Adams very much.  Much less a mighty messiah strong to save originating from some no-name backwater village up in the country?

So Nathanael comments on Jesus, and he gives him far less credit than he should. But then Jesus comments on Nathanael, and he gives him far more credit than you'd expect. “Here is a true Israelite in whom there is no deception!” Wait just a minute, now, Jesus.

Are you saying that Nathanael is free of deception? That he's never lied to his parents, to his friends, to himself? That he's somehow immune to this form (or any form) of sin? Is he the fabled George Washington of the disciples, who “cannot tell a lie?” Or is Jesus here just trying to ingratiate himself to Nathanael, because, you know, he needs disciples and compliments are one way to win friends and influence people?

Could Jesus look at you and say the same?  That you are a true Israelite in whom is no deceit?  Take a moment and ask yourself, honestly, how full of deceit are you?  How often do you lie to yourself and others?  Is the truth your close friend, casual acquaintance, or your mortal enemy?  Do you embrace the little white lies that seem to make life go smoothly, telling yourself what is convenient and comfortable, rather than disconcerting and challenging?  And the biggest lie of them all – that you are ok on your own, that you don’t need to worry about sin, that you’re a good person and just fine and got it all together pretty much without Jesus?

Certainly Jesus wouldn’t say what isn’t true.  And so he’s not calling Nathanael a perfect person without sin.  Rather, he seems to be recognizing Nathanael as a man of faith.  Jesus can see that Nathanael knew Moses and the Prophets had been pointing forward to the messiah, and Nathanael trusted in those words of God. And Jesus knew that Nathanael would also belong to him, be one of his own, that Christ's true nature would be revealed to him along with the other apostles and so many other disciples.

Beyond all that, Jesus would take away all deceit, lies, slander, gossip and every false witness – through his saving work, his death on the cross. This is why Jesus can look at you, too, sinner though you are, liar though you are, and see nothing false. Because he has made it so. And what Jesus says about Nathaniel is the greater reality.  And what he says of you is far more important than what you or the world or the devil say about yourself.

Can anything good come from Jerusalem? No. But Jesus doesn't come, ultimately, from Jerusalem, or Bethlehem, or Nazareth. He comes from heaven's high throne, a noble guest indeed. Can anything good come from man, let alone a man from a backwater, no-name place? No, but here is no mere man, here instead is the God-man, like us in every way yet without sin.

A man, but also with a divine nature – so that he knows all and can do all. He saw Nathanael under the fig tree long before Nathanael was in sight. The divine eye knows no limits. He knew Nathanael's heart, and he accepted him despite the fact that he was a sinner after all.

St. Augustine makes the connection between the fig leaves that covered Adam and Eve after their sin, and Nathanael sitting in the shade of a fig tree. He says that all of us are, as it were, under the shade of the fig tree, trying to cover our own sin.  But just as Christ found Adam and Eve hiding behind their fig leaves, and as he saw Nathaniel under the fig tree, so he also finds you under the shadow of your sin, sees you, and sheds his light upon you.

And he promised Nathanael he would see even greater things yet. What's he talking about, “angels ascending and descending on the Son of Man”?

Well assuming Nathanael, this true Israelite, knew his Old Testament Scriptures, he'd have caught the reference to “Jacob's Ladder”. In Genesis 28, Jacob (the one whose name was changed to Israel) had a dream – in which he saw a stairway or ladder, reaching from heaven to earth, and angels “ascending and descending on it”. God was making a connection between sinful man and the holiness of his heaven. The eternal separation of sin would be bridged.

And that ladder is Christ. One day, Nathanael would see it so clearly. That Jesus is the bridge, the touchstone, the very stairway between earth and heaven. He's the only point of connection, the only way (and truth and life). He, and only he, can and does transport us from the miseries below to the eternal joys above.

And he does it, suspended between heaven and earth  - not on a stairway – but on a cross. Nathanael who once sat under a fig tree, would come to live under the tree of Christ's cross. There this true Israelite would find God's ultimate truth – that Christ is crucified for sinners like you and me.

Today we too confess with Nathanael that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, the King of Israel. He is the stairway to heaven, and the one true Israelite who takes our falsehood away. The truth of his word endures, and his calling to follow is for you, too. Receive him with joy today as he comes in his body and blood. For nothing good can come out of you, but everything good comes from him, for you.


Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Sermon - Mark 1:4-11 - The Baptism of Our Lord

“Heaven Torn Open”

Mark 1:4-11

This First Sunday after the Epiphany (January 6th) is traditionally an observation of the Baptism of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the Jordan, by John.  Some have argued that apart from his death and resurrection, Jesus’ baptism is his most important work for us.  And you can argue that or not if you want, but since everything Jesus does is for us, everything he does is important.

But it’s also something that puzzles Christians.  Why did he do it?  Did he have to do it?  What does it mean?  Even John objected to it at first, “wait a minute, Jesus, this is backwards.  You should be baptizing me!”

But it is fitting for them to do so, just this once.  It is proper and it is vitally important to Jesus’ mission.

There is much we could say about Jesus’ baptism:  For starters, it begins his public ministry.  Up until now, he was the Messiah, but did not take center stage in his preaching and teaching.  He had been a dutiful son.  He had been growing in wisdom and favor with God and man.  But now at 30 years of age – the traditional minimum age for a Jewish Rabbi, he comes out of obscurity.  His baptism marks this shift.

His baptism is also a recognition and proclamation of his identity.  “This is my son”, or here in Mark, “You are my son, with whom I am well pleased”.  What other human has ever had that happen?  What other human can claim the favor of the Father like this?  Surely none, for all sin.  Surely none, for only Jesus is the eternal Son of the Father, the Living Word made flesh.  Of course he knew it, but now the voice of God proclaims it for us to hear.  God testifies of his Son so that we would know him, listen to him, and believe in him.

The Spirit also testifies.  By coming bodily – he whose very name “Spirit” denotes he does not exist in bodily form – but now he comes in the form of a dove.  A bird of peace, not war.  Evoking the peace of God that followed the flood of Noah.  Now the Spirit comes at the flood of Jesus’ baptism in the same form.  And this, too, testifies that he, Jesus is the one, the anointed one, the singular savior who would bring peace between God and man.  The one, who in bodily form, in the flesh, would suffer and die to make it so.

But there’s more.  Jesus has no sin.  So why should he be baptized?  That is the heart of the matter here.  That is John’s objection, really.  That is what puzzles so many Christians.  But Jesus knows what he’s doing.

He’s taking our place.  He’s taking our sin.  He’s ushering in the great exchange.  Here at the Jordan Jesus takes his first step toward the cross.  Here he shoulders up, not the wooden beams, but the load of sin.  Here he identifies with sinners, so that sinners would be identified with God.  Here the Father declares his favor, so that in Christ, we may enjoy that same favor, and God would consider us also his children. 

In his baptism, Jesus is identifying with us sinners.  He’s uniting himself with us.  He’s not just showing us a good example of what we Christians should do (though there is that, too).  But he’s powerfully stepping into that water to become our substitute.  He’s doing it to fulfill all righteousness – to win for us the righteousness of God.

Soon, he would be our substitute in the wilderness, fasting and battling sin and devil alike, and coming out victorious.  He did what we couldn’t do – resist temptation, defeat the devil.  The Second Adam to succeed where the First Adam failed.

Then, he would minister.  In the course of his preaching he would heal all manner of disease and affliction, cast out demons, even raise the dead.  Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.  But these signs and wonders were rooted in the ultimate sign and wonder of the cross, where he would take all our griefs and sorrows in full, and leave them in the dust of death.

And when Jesus rises from the dead, he also does it for us, in our place, and as our fore-runner.  His resurrection is part and parcel of our own resurrection.  He’s the first fruits of the dead, we’re the rest of the fruit.  He’s the firstborn of the dead, we are the little brothers and sisters of the dead who will follow.  By his death he has destroyed death – not just for himself, but for all who are in him.

Paul explains this part of the great baptismal mystery in our Epistle reading.  Romans 6 shows how in our baptism we are united with Christ, buried with Christ, raised with Christ.  Whatever Jesus has, he gives to you – his righteousness, death, and his resurrection.  And whatever you have – only your sins – go to him, he takes them away, all the way to the cross. But this only happens because of Christ’s baptism, by which he unites himself with us.

And finally, concerning Jesus’ baptism, we observe this detail in Mark’s telling of it – heaven is “torn open”.  Not just a crack or a peek into heaven, but heaven is torn open.  With reckless abandon, the place of God becomes open in the baptism of Jesus.  Not just so that the voice of God may speak, and not just so that the Spirit may descend as a dove, but also that we may have access to God once again.

The door to paradise was slammed shut long ago, after Adam and Eve sinned.  They were cast out of the Garden and an angel with a flaming sword barred the gate.  What a bitter day when sin exiled our first parents and all their children to the wilds of a world now broken.  What a harsh reality they faced, as the effects of sin continued to grow and spread like a kudzu through their family, through the generations, and death reigned ever more fully.

But not anymore.  The Second Adam is on the scene.  The exile is over.  Heaven is open again in him.  Even better than the Garden of Eden.  Now by baptism and Spirit, by the promise of the Father and the cleansing blood of the Son, heaven is torn open once again.  Like the temple curtain that is torn from top to bottom, inviting redeemed sinners into the holy of holies.  Now the dwelling of God is with man, and the man who is in Christ will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Now, what can we say about our own baptism?

Heaven is torn open in your own baptism, too.  The blessings shower down like rain. The Almighty Triune God comes down to the font and places his name on your in those waters. Therefore your baptism isn’t a one-time-deal, a historical footnote, just a nice ceremony to remember but something you really outgrow and move past.  No!  Heaven is torn open and it remains open to you. God’s name is placed upon your and remains upon you.  The blessings of baptism shower down in a never-ending flood, overflowing your whole life through, so that even when you face death, your baptism is a great comfort to you.   

There, God says of you, this is my son, my daughter, with whom I am well pleased.  It is the seal of God’s approval on you.  You are marked as one redeemed by Christ the crucified, and that mark doesn’t rub off.  All new-born soldiers of the crucified bear on their brows the seal of him who died.  And that’s us – all new-borns, reborn in the waters, brought forth from death to life in Christ. In that blessed sacrament, you receive faith and life and righteousness.  You go into those waters with your sin, but come through them a new creation in Christ Jesus. 

And in Christ, heaven is now open to you.  No angel with a flaming sword can bar the way.  No sin or shame or guilt disqualifies you any longer.  You are in Christ, and Christ is in you.  He took your place to give you a place in the Father’s house.  Thanks be to God that Jesus was baptized for you.  And thanks be to God that you are baptized, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.