Sermon - Palm Sunday - John 12:12-19

Palm Sunday - John 12:12-19

"The Triumphal Entry"

This Sunday really has two main emphases:  Palm Sunday and the Sunday of the Passion.  Without getting into the historical reasons for this, suffice it to say that it presents the preacher with a bit of a challenge, especially when it comes on where to focus the sermon.  Looking back, most years, I seem to have leaned more on the passion account.  So this year, I’d like to focus our attention especially on the Palm Sunday Gospel reading from John 12.

Our Lord Jesus Christ does not do things by accident.  His actions and words are always under his control, always to fulfill his purpose, and his Father’s will.  So, too, with his triumphal entry into Jerusalem. 

He had entered Jerusalem many times before.  We first hear of him visiting there as an infant, along with Mary and Joseph.  Bethlehem wasn’t far from Jerusalem, after all.  And there in the temple the baby Jesus met Simeon and Anna.  They sang his praises.  We still sing Simeon’s song today.

Then we hear about Jesus in Jerusalem again as a boy of 12, staying behind in the temple. The scribes and teachers of the law sang his praises in a different way – amazed with his answers and understanding.  His zeal for his Father’s house would never fade, and his love for Jerusalem was ever evident.  He would visit many more times, to worship, to pray, to teach and preach.

Here, on Palm Sunday, the crowds gather to sing his praises in perhaps his moment of peak popularity.  He comes to Jerusalem once more, now in triumph.  Having raised Lazarus from the dead – and word of it spread like wildfire among the people.  The crowds swelling Jerusalem to 10 times the population during these days of the Feast of Passover, who knows what the makeup was of this gathering.  Perhaps pilgrims from all over the world joined that welcome wagon, waved their palms, adding their hosannas.  A hint of the great throng that would one day come to call him Savior – from every tribe, nation, people and language.  A representative slice of the church, his body, his people.

Which might bring us a question – do we welcome him with the same joy, even today?  Do we recognize him and rejoice at his arrival in our midst by his word, and in his sacrament?  Or do we pilgrims, gathered here, take his presence for granted?  Do we act as if he isn’t really here?  Or does our faith join the throng of hosannas and palm-wavers, recognizing our King is in our midst, triumphant, victorious, to save us?

He rides a donkey.  The symbolic value of this is strong.  The donkey is what David rode.  Jesus is claiming, in a not so subtle way, his rightful place as the Son of David (which they also name him in the other parallel accounts).  He is the heir to David’s everlasting throne, the one come to restore the stump of Jesse, the booth of David that had fallen.  In Christ, and only in Christ, the house of David, the throne of David will endure forever.  “Even the king of Israel”, they hail him.  The king indeed!

He also thus fulfills the prophet’s word, as he does in so many ways, every last detail of this seems choreographed from eternity.  He couldn’t have checked all these boxes if he were not the Son of God, the Son of David, the Savior.  But he has done all things well.  He fulfills his purpose fully.  He runs his course to the cross without even a small misstep, never looking back.

The crowd also cried, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!”  Jesus comes in the name of his Father, that same name which he also bears – Yahweh.  He comes with the commission and blessing of his Father – to do the Father’s will, to drink the cup and not let it pass.  To lay down his life as a ransom for many.  To shed his blood to spare us from blood guilt.  To die for the sins of the world, and then to rise and proclaim his victory over death for all.  He comes to do exactly what the Father sent him to do, in his name, with his blessing.

And they shout, “Hosanna!”  Save us, now!  Save us from our enemies.  Save us from all that would harm us.  Save us, for you are the savior, with the power to save.  Now, of course, they probably had in mind a different kind of saving – a worldly saving from Roman oppression and a restoration of worldly honor and glory for their people.  But Jesus comes to save from much more than any of that.  He saves us now from sin, death, devil, and hell.  He saves them in their time as he saves us in our time, and all who call on his name in all times and places.  Now is the day of salvation, whenever now is that sinners hear the good news of Jesus Christ.  Now is the time to shout “Hosanna to the Son of David”.

Now, we are also told that the disciples didn’t understand these things at the time, but later on, after Jesus was glorified, they remembered and understood.  And here is a lesson for us as well.

Often times, when it comes to the word of God, we are like those disciples.  We don’t understand at first.  This can be for many reasons.  We may not yet be mature enough in our faith.  We may be laboring under false ideas or assumptions.  It may even be that the darkness of our own sinful mind and heart hinders us from listening and receiving the word – indeed, Jesus often says, “he who has ears to hear, let him hear”, thus acknowledging that not everyone has ears to hear, and not everyone will listen.

But later, when the time was right, the disciples did remember, understand, and believe.  This can be attributed to several factors – one, that Jesus opened their minds to understand the scriptures.  Also, that, as he promised, the Holy Spirit came and brought to remembrance all that he taught and preached. 

So does the Spirit enlighten us, Christians, even today.  As you read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the word of God, the Holy Spirit works to deepen your faith and understanding of Christ and the gospel.  If even the disciples needed time and help to understand the gravity of something like Palm Sunday, or many of the other events in Jesus’ ministry – then we can’t claim to be any better.  So we learn humility before God’s word, and continue to learn – not just intellectually – but spiritually – from the Spirit’s teaching, as we grow to greater vistas and deeper appreciation of all that God teaches us.

And one more Palm Sunday connection we can make.  The Palm Sunday account is also the appointed reading for the First Sunday in Advent.  And while it might seem rather strange to hearken to Holy Week in December (sort of like, Christmas in July), it makes great sense.  Advent is the season of coming, and Jesus coming into Jerusalem is one of his most important arrivals.  Of course he also comes as a babe in Bethlehem.  And furthermore, he will come again in glory – to judge the living and the dead.  Palm Sunday gives us a hint of that second, glorious, triumphal entry – though his final coming will be riding the clouds not a donkey, and he will be seen by all, not just a crowd of Jewish pilgrims.  And he will come not to die, but to judge, to bring victory, and to usher us, his people, into our eternal home – the heavenly Jerusalem.

Until then, he comes to us in humble form – in yet different ways.  Today he comes, not riding a donkey, but in the word of proclamation.  Today he comes, also in his body and blood, given and shed for you, coming to us in his Holy Sacrament.  He comes with salvation, he comes to save us now.  He comes to bring us what we need the most – himself – and the forgiveness of sins that he brings.

And so our prayers of “hosanna” are answered.  They were already answered when he went to his cross and died for us all.  And they continue to be answered as he delivers us his blessings in his gospel, and at his table.  Thanks be to God for the triumphal entry of Christ, the sacramental presence of Christ, and the promised return in glory of Christ, our Savior, the Son of David, even the King of Israel.  Amen.

 

Sermon - Midweek Lent - Matthew 26:17-25

 

The Lamb – Matthew 26:17-25

We began with the serpent – the forked tongue the devil used to inject the poison of sin into our world through Adam and Eve’s participation.  But that very serpent who is crushed by the seed of the woman who is lifted up on the cross.

We’ve considered the donkey – a humble beast of burden, a kingly steed in time of peace, fit to carry the Son of David who bears the burden of our sin, humbly, to the cross.

We’ve looked at the pigeons – the sacrifice of the poor who couldn’t afford a lamb or bull.  And we’ve noted the sacrifice of nobler blood than all the beasts on Jewish altars slain – Jesus – the sacrifice for all poor sinners like you and me.

We saw the rooster – the herald of Peter’s betrayal, and of our own.  But also the voice to mark the morning and a reminder of God’s mercies in Christ which are new every morning.  Peter is restored, and so are we, in Jesus.

And the dogs – a slam against the gentiles – like those who surrounded Christ as he died, those outside of the lost sheep of Israel.  But those who come in faith – like the Syro-Phoenecian woman, faithfully waiting for crumbs to fall from the master’s table.  Even the smallest share in Christ’s mercy is a banquet of blessings.

Now, finally, the lamb. 

In a way, this is perhaps the easiest our of animal examples to discuss.  Scripture is chock-full of sheep and lambs.  Shepherding was the vocation of Abel, Abraham, Issac, Jacob, David, and so many other figures.  The Bethlehem shepherds watching over their flocks by night were the first to hear the news of Christ’s birth and come to worship.  Jesus calls himself the good shepherd – and we have a whole Sunday in the Easter season that we call “Good Shepherd Sunday” – which meditates on the grand biblical metaphor of shepherd and sheep.

Whole books have been written about the Bible’s use of sheep.  One well known work is “A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23”, which perhaps some of you have read.  That psalm, 23, which is perhaps the best known and well loved – which begins, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…”  The kings of Israel were compared to shepherds of God’s people.  Jesus tells Peter to feed his lambs and take care of his sheep.  And even today the word “pastor” is used in our circles – a word for clergy that means “shepherd”.

It’s often been pointed out that sheep are, essentially, not very smart.  They wander and get lost.  The end up in all sorts of trouble.  In this way they are an apt comparison to humans in our sin.  Jesus talks about seeking the lost sheep, going after the one and leaving the 99.  But friends, we are all that one lost sheep.  We all wander from God’s word and will every time we sin.  We are constantly in need of help and guidance and rescue.  This is why we live a life of repentance.  This is why Scripture warns us about wolves in sheep’s clothing, and all the other dangers in the field, and encourages us to listen to the shepherd’s voice, and to follow him.

But if there is one sheep in all of Holy Scripture that perhaps comes to the foreground, it is the Passover lamb.  Exodus tells us about this seminal event in the history of God’s people.  One resource I found summarizes it very well as follows:

The Passover lamb was the animal God directed the Israelites to use as a sacrifice in Egypt on the night God struck down the firstborn sons of every household (Exodus 12:29). This was the final plague God issued against Pharaoh, and it led to Pharaoh releasing the Israelites from slavery (Exodus 11:1). After that fateful night, God instructed the Israelites to observe the Passover Feast as a lasting memorial (Exodus 12:14).

God instructed every household of the Israelite people to select a year-old male lamb without defect (Exodus 12:5; cf. Leviticus 22:20-21). The head of the household was to slaughter the lamb at twilight, taking care that none of its bones were broken, and apply some of its blood to the tops and sides of the doorframe of the house. The lamb was to be roasted and eaten (Exodus 12:7-8). God also gave specific instructions as to how the Israelites were to eat the lamb, “with your cloak tucked into your belt, your sandals on your feet and your staff in your hand” (Exodus 12:11). In other words, they had to be ready to travel.

God said that when He saw the lamb’s blood on the doorframe of a house, He would “pass over” that home and not permit “the destroyer” (Exodus 12:23) to enter. Any home without the blood of the lamb would have their firstborn son struck down that night (Exodus 12:12-13).  https://www.gotquestions.org/Passover-Lamb.html

If there is any Old Testament event or character or example or item that most clearly foreshadows our Lord Jesus Christ, especially in his passion, it might just be this Passover lamb.  Consider the connections:

The lamb is taken in the prime of its life, a male.  Jesus is given over in the prime of his life.  The lamb was without defect – spot or blemish.  Jesus was without sin.  The lamb was slaughtered at twilight.  Jesus died close to sunset as well, as they had to hurry and bury him before nightfall.  Not a bone was broken – either of the Passover lamb or of Christ’s.  And the blood of the lamb was painted on the doorposts in a motion both horizontal and vertical – giving a hint of the sign of the cross itself.  The lamb is roasted and eaten – and Jesus was consumed by the fiery wrath of God.  But perhaps the best comparison is what follows.

The blood of the lamb protected the Israelites from the destroyer.  When God saw that blood on the door, her passed over that house and did not take the firstborn’s life from that family.  So does the blood of Christ protect us.  When God sees us covered with the blood of Christ – cleansed and redeemed by the blood of Christ – he sees that the sacrifice has been made, that the sins have been atoned for, and he passes over us.  We do not receive the destruction our sins deserve.  Rather, we are spared, not just for this life, but for eternity.

There’s good reason that John the Baptist declared Jesus to be the “Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world”.  It is by his atoning, sacrificial death on the cross that Jesus effects the divine Passover for our sins.  He acts as both the victim and the priest, the one who offers the sacrifice and the sacrifice himself.  Thanks be to God for the victory he has won for us at the cross!

We see the Lamb again in the final book of the Bible, the Revelation of Jesus Christ to St. John.  There, in chapter 5, we see Christ pictured as “a Lamb standing, as though it had been slain”.  How can something that has been slain stand?  Unless this is Jesus, the one who was slain but has been raised from death, never to die again!  And so it is. 

Only this Lamb can open the seven seals of the scroll.  Only Jesus can know and accomplish God’s plan for salvation, and only in him is the church preserved through all the ups and downs of these end times, this great tribulation.

And then in chapter 7, we see a great multitude clothed in white.  Who are they?  John learns, “These are they who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.  Therefore they are before the throne of God day and night…”  and we go on to learn that God himself will wipe every tear from their eye.

What a wonderful picture and reminder of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ – the lamb.  And thanks be to God for the many pictures he gives us of Christ’s love and mercy, yes, even through the other creatures, the animals he has placed in our care.  May we observe this coming holy week with the peace of God that passes all understanding, that our hearts and minds may ever be fixed on Jesus Christ our Lord, the very Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. 

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

 

Sermon - Lent 5 - Mark 10:35-45

 

“Right, Left, Cup, Baptism”

Like any experienced parent has learned, Jesus already knows, never agree to do something before you know what it is.  James and John say, like children, “Jesus, promise to do us a favor”.  Uh huh.  “What do you want me to do?” Jesus asks.  And then their audacity shows.

We want the highest positions in the new Jesus-regime.  We want to be picked first for your new team of governing leadership.  When you defeat Pontius Pilate and drive out the Roman dogs, or when you depose the High Priest and set up your kingdom, we want some sweet positions of honor and prestige.  We want to sit at your right and left hand, when you come into your glory.

How many times did Jesus sigh, or roll his eyes, or have to exercise divine patience with these petty and foolish disciples.  How many times must he do the same toward us?  Sure it’s easy to see James and John in a poor light.  But we are no different.  We are no better.

James and John were simply doing what sinful humans do – looking out for themselves.  Putting themselves first.  Jockeying for a position from which to look down on others, be in charge, get their way, have their day in the sun.  Their request came from a place of selfish glory-seeking, not selfless neighbor-loving.  And so it’s easy to criticize.  But you do it, and I do it, and every sinful son and daughter of Adam does it.

But James and John are clueless.  They don’t even know what they are asking.  They don’t really understand what Jesus is about, and so their selfish request makes even less sense.  They think Jesus is going to earthly, human, worldly glory, and they want in on the action.  But Jesus is going to the cross.  There in the blood and sweat and bitter pains of the cross is his glory.  And if they knew that, they wouldn’t be asking for part of it.

Jesus has a cup to drink, and a baptism to be baptized with.  These are just two ways of speaking of his suffering and death.

The cup – that’s an Old Testament picture that is used especially in connection with God’s wrath.  For example:

 

For in the hand of the LORD there is a cup

with foaming wine, well mixed,

and he pours out from it,

and all the wicked of the earth

shall drain it down to the dregs.  Psalm 75:8

 

Jesus makes reference to this, also, in his prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane:  “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.”

 

He refuses to drink the wine mixed with gall when they first crucify him, for it was a mild anesthetic, and Jesus would not turn away from the least bit of suffering that he was due.  But later he drinks of the sour wine to quench his thirst just enough to fulfill prophecy and utter his last declaration, “It is finished”.  Oh, and he drinks the cup of wrath to its dregs when he suffers the worst of it – the abandonment of his Father, “My God, why have you forsaken me?”

 

Can you drink this cup, James and John?  Can you drink this cup, dear Christian?

 

Or his baptism – no, not the baptism by John in the Jordan – that was already past.  Though, by that baptism Christ did indeed identify himself with sinners.  But the baptism that was coming was none other than the cross itself.  Like the cup appointed, a baptism that could not be avoided if he is to do the Father’s will.  And if you think of a baptism as a cleansing, of course by the cross Jesus cleanses all sin.  Or baptism as a renewal – and by the cross he destroys death and wins new life.

 

Can you undergo such a baptism?  No, you can’t die for your own sins, James and John.  You can’t pay the price of your debts, Christian, even with your very life.

 

But Jesus can.  And Jesus did.  He drank the cup.  He submitted to the baptism.  And he does so, in a great twist, so that indeed James and John and all sinners who trust in him would be spared the cup and the baptism, and receive places of honor and glory in his kingdom.  Even a crown of righteousness and share in his eternal kingdom.  What a twist!  James and John, in a sense, do have their requests fulfilled.

 

No, they wouldn’t be on Jesus right and left hand when he accomplished his glorious redemption at the cross.  That was reserved for the two thieves.

 

And that account is sort of running in the background of this one, isn’t it?  The gospel reader or hearer who knows the rest of the story, who knows how Jesus died crucified between two robbers – it comes to mind, doesn’t it, when James and John want to be at Jesus’ left and right hand when he comes into his glory.  They don’t know what they are asking.  But we who have read ahead – we kind of do.

 

And so their request for their own glory stands in a sort of contrast with the request of the repentant thief.  The one who did have a place beside Jesus.  This transgressor with whom Jesus was numbered.  He got it right, exactly right, where James and John got it wrong.  His request wasn’t self serving and self-aggrandizing.  His request was the voice of faith.  You know it, I’m sure:  “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom”.  No, “Jesus promote me” or “Jesus honor me”, not “give me a place of power and prestige”.  This thief had no time for any of that.  He had bigger problems.  He was dying for his sins, and he knew it. But he also confessed it.  And so his request, his petition, his prayer to Jesus was simply to be remembered.  Not a bad prayer for us to pray, as well.

 

When Jesus remembers you – he does more than just think about you fondly.  He acts.  He promises.  He blesses.  He gives you the same thing he gave this thief – forgiveness in the face of impending doom because of your sins.  He gives you more than you even ask for.  He also promises you a place in his kingdom – in paradise – in his Father’s house, even forever.  What a contrast with the embarrassingly petty request of James and John – the humble, trusting request of a repentant thief facing his last hours.  Not, “Jesus give me glory”, but, essentially, “Jesus, forgive me, bless me, remember me”  We can pray the same.

 

No, James and John would not hang on the crosses next to Jesus. But James and John and all the apostles, eventually, would suffer and be persecuted, and most of them die for the sake of Christ and the gospel.  They had their own little cups and little baptisms and little crosses to bear.

 

As do we. “If anyone would come after me, let him take up his cross and follow me.”  And so we shoulder up the crosses he has appointed for us – whether it be suffering under the brokenness of this world, shame and ridicule in the eyes of a scornful world, or even persecution unto death if it comes to that – God grant us all the strength and courage to persevere in faith to the end.

 

And can a Lutheran think of a cup and a baptism without connecting to the sacraments?  Where in the bread and cup that are his body and blood, and in the baptism of water and the word, Jesus pours out the blessings won for us by his drinking of the cup and the baptism he had to undergo?  Only for us, these gifts are full of forgiveness and mercy.

 

There’s so much here this morning – the bad example of selfish James and John, their ill-informed request for self-advancement.  An example of how we all act in sin from time to time.  In the background, the good example of the dying, repentant thief whose request is simply the cry of faith to the only one who can save, “Jesus, remember me”.  And then the reference to Jesus’ cup and Jesus’ baptism – that is, his suffering and death – by which he procures for all the faithful a place in his kingdom.  And a reminder for us of where to find his grace – in the cup (and also the bread) of his holy supper, and in the baptism of his spirit which promises us a place in paradise.  And so we do, indeed have a share in his cup of suffering and the baptism of his cross – but we also have a share in his resurrection on the other side of suffering and death.  And there, we will be with him in his glory.

 

In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

 

Sermon - Midweek Lent 3 - Matthew 26:30-35, 69-75

 

The Rooster – Matthew 26:33-35, 69-75

Dear, dear Peter.  The chief of the apostles, but also the everyman we can all relate to.  He has his highs and lows, and doesn’t seem to do anything in a small way.  When we shines – he stands as a bright light of faith, a rock, like the nickname Jesus gave him.  But when he fails, and boy does he, it is embarrassing and humiliating and especially in this case, brings him to bitter tears.

The rooster, tonight’s animal in our series, will forever remind us of Peter.  The symbolism of the church often remembers St. Peter with the crossed keys – because Jesus spoke those words about locking and unlocking heaven – meaning the power to forgive sins – and spoke those words to Peter.  But in more than a few of those depictions, you will see also a rooster sitting on top of those keys.

I have to say, of all the animals, it seems the rooster is well suited to remind us of Peter, not simply for this incident, but because the rooster is the first to speak in the morning.  And Peter seemed always the first to speak in any situation, often before thinking.  I often come to church early in the morning, and the neighbors to the south here have some chickens, and a rooster.  And I’m often greeted by that cocka doodle doo, and I think of Peter.

When Jesus told the disciples they would all fall away that night when he would be arrested, Peter again spoke up.  He surely meant well.  After all, the spirit is willing, even if the flesh is weak.  The other disciples join in – “if we have to die with you, Jesus, we won’t fall away.  We won’t leave you.  We won’t deny you!” 

Peter even went so far that night as to draw his sword and slash off the ear of Malchus.  Had a few things gone differently, maybe Peter would have been killed in action.  Going down in a blaze of glory, his courage remembered by all.  But that’s not how it was to be.  There would be no clash of swords this night.  Jesus had other plans. 

Jesus had a long night ahead of him.  First there was the trial by night before the Jews.  Then the rushed morning trial at dawn.  And an early appointment at Pilate’s place in the morning.  And Jesus knew just how it would go for him, for the disciples, for Judas, and for Peter.

The rooster stands as yet another reminder that Jesus knew what lay ahead.  Everything unfolds just as he says it will, down to the parts the characters play in betrayal, denial, and desertion.  He even knows the part that rooster would play in heralding the fulfillment of his own little prophecy about Peter.  Every detail, just as Jesus says, is fulfilled.

That’s because, contrary to outward appearances, Jesus is in control of it all.  He could have stopped all this with 12 legions of angels at his beck and call.  But he didn’t.  He could have called on his followers to fight.  But he didn’t.  He could have come down from that cross later on in the story, but he didn’t.  And he didn’t have to die, but he did.  No one takes his life from him, but he lays it down of his own accord.  He could have turned away at any point, gone back home to Nazareth and lived the life of an obscure carpenter in peace and quiet.  But instead he set his face toward Jerusalem, set his will to fulfill the Father’s will, and submitted to the cup of punishment that was appointed for him – our cup – and he drank it down to the last drop.

Peter, on the other hand, was not so determined.  Brandishing his sword one moment, but cowed by a servant girl the next.  Sure, he and John tagged along and went to the High Priest’s place to see what would happen, but before long Peter’s courage failed.  When questioned about his accent, his origin, and his association with Jesus – Peter hits his low point.  He denies Jesus.  Denies being a follower, denies even knowing him, and does so with curses.

Three times, not once.  If it were only once, we might say it was a moment of weakness and look more kindly on Peter.  But the repeated, increasing vehemence with which he denies his Lord.  It stands in contrast to the three times Jesus was tempted by the devil, and he never wavered, never failed.  But against a far less impressive accuser, Peter crumbles and cowers, lies and denies.

It’s hard not to identify with Peter.  More and more the world around us is starting to ramp up the pressure.  We see the persecution of Christians coming, as a train in the distance, and wonder when it will arrive in its fullness.  Already cancel culture is nipping around the edges of the church – threatening people who speak unpopular opinions.  Opinions which we might well agree with as Christians.  We might well wonder when we will be next.  Government initiatives further threaten to formalize and concretize values and standards at odds with Christian morality.  It may be the servant girl today that asks, “are you with Jesus?”  and tomorrow the officer and the magistrate who put you to the test.  Be ready, dear Christian, for Jesus warned and promised of such persecution, and we do well to heed.

But it doesn’t take the threat of arrest, or even the pointing finger of a stranger to coax us toward denial.  We are often quick enough on our own to find reasons to deny our faith, and our Lord.  There is a sense in which every sin is a betrayal and denial of Christ.  Every time we cast our lot in with the Old Adam and not the New.  Whenever we decide our way is better than God’s, through whatever rationalization or excuse we tell ourselves.  When it comes to sinning, we don’t need much encouragement or temptation at all.

And then the rooster crows.  That is to say, the reminder of God’s law breaks the silence of our conscience and draws to mind what God has said.  The Spirit applies that law to us – and like Peter who remembered Jesus’ word and went and wept bitterly – we are driven to contrition.  The law crushes us, too.  It rubs our noses in our sin, and shines a spotlight on our guilt and shame.  Whoever denies me before men, I will deny before my Father, Jesus warns.  And so it’s not just that the law points out our sin, it also shows us what we deserve. 

But the point of this story is not “Jesus good, Peter bad” or even, “Jesus good, you bad” The contrast between Christ’s willingness to suffer all and Peter’s failure to be faithful teaches us just why we need Jesus.  And it opens the door for the epilogue to this story.

After Jesus died and rose, he would meet Peter again.  And in one of those early meetings, you’ll remember, he took Peter aside.  And without specifically addressing the denial, Jesus restored and forgave Peter.  He had denied him three times.  Jesus restores him three times.  Peter do you love me?  Feed my sheep.

With Jesus, the dark night of sin is always followed by the dawn of forgiveness.  The rooster that heralds the morning might also stand to remind us of God’s mercies, which are new every morning.  Gone are the sins of the past when Christ restores and renews us by his word.  Gone is the night of sorrow and tears when the morning of Christ dawns with the mercy he brings.

I would imagine that dear Peter pondered these things every morning he was awakened by the rooster’s call, for the rest of his life.  Surely he continued, daily, to struggle with sin, as each of us does.  Surely he failed again and again, though never quite as memorably as that night at the campfire.  Still, God would restore and renew his servant – and so the Peter who once denied Jesus in fear would meet his death with courage that has also come down to us.

Besides the keys and the rooster, another symbol of Peter is the upside down cross.  This is to signify the way he died.  According to the early church fathers, as Peter was about to be crucified by the Romans, he requested to be crucified upside down, as he was unworthy to die the same way Jesus did.  And so, in their dark humor, they agreed.

What a difference between the Peter of the denial and the Peter who met his final cross with courage.  This can only be because the Lord sustained and seasoned him through a lifetime of repentance and restoration, preparing him to make the good confession at the last.  May the Lord sustain and strengthen our faith, that we too, may remain steadfast to the end.

So the rooster – a reminder of Peter’s bitter sin of denial, but also of the dawn of daily grace in Jesus Christ.  Weep bitterly over your own sin and denial of Christ, but take comfort in the restoration he brings, the forgiveness he has won at the cross. Remain in him even unto death, and rise to life again at the trumpet call on the last day. 

In Jesus’ Name.

Sermon - Midweek Lent 2 - Matthew 21:12-17

Pigeons – Matthew 21:12-17

12 And Jesus entered the temple[a] and drove out all who sold and bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. 13 He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you make it a den of robbers.”

14 And the blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he healed them. 15 But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the wonderful things that he did, and the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David!” they were indignant, 16 and they said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” And Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read,

“‘Out of the mouth of infants and nursing babies

    you have prepared praise’?”

17 And leaving them, he went out of the city to Bethany and lodged there.

________

According to Matthew’s Gospel (from which most of our animal mentions come in this series), immediately after Jesus enters Jerusalem, he cleanses the Temple.  This happened also on Palm Sunday. 

John also tells of Jesus cleansing the temple – in fact that is the reading for this coming Sunday – but John puts it very early in his Gospel, chapter 2.  But this isn’t a problem for us.  This could mean that Jesus cleansed the temple more than once – or that John wasn’t writing in chronological order as the others were. 

Mark mentions also the pigeons being sold, while Luke mentions none of the animals at all, and John lists the sheep, oxen and pigeons.  Oh and John also mentions that Jesus made a whip.  Nice.

But zooming in on those pigeons.  An animal that, perhaps because it is relatively small and docile, seems to get lost in the menagerie of biblical animals.  What were the pigeons doing there?  They were being sold.

In Leviticus, God had prescribed an entire sacrificial system for his people to observe and follow.  The construction and dimensions of the Tabernacle, and later the Temple were followed with painstaking attention to detail.  The priesthood was accorded specific duties in carrying out the various ceremonies and rituals of the system.  Certain feast days were prescribed.  And of course, central to all of this was the importance of sacrifices, especially animal sacrifices.

There were a number of different sacrifices for various purposes.  Some were required, some were voluntary.  Some were of grains, some of animals.  And some were entirely burned, for some only a portion was offered.  Some were made corporately and some were made individually.  I must admit, even for a pastor, it’s difficult to fully understand the system in great detail.

But one thing is clear.  Quite a bit of blood was shed in the process.  And it was serious business.  The shedding of animal blood to pay for and cover sin really begins in the Garden of Eden, when God himself first slaughter animals to provide skins as clothing for naked Adam and Eve.  That blood that was shed for them – to cover their shame – was the first in a veritable ocean of blood shed over the years in various sacrifices.

Abel sacrificed from his sheep.  Noah sacrificed after the flood.  Abraham made sacrifices.  The Israelites, under Moses, received a codified sacrificial system.  A whole tribe was designated as priests to oversee and execute the system.  One might say that the whole Old Testament is veritably soaked in blood.

But why?

Because from early on it was clear – the wages of sin is death.  And God impressed this upon his people in a very stark way, through the deaths that came by sacrifice.  But it wasn’t just a very costly and violent object lesson – the sacrifices of the Old Testament were efficacious – they really did deal with sin.  And so thanks be to God who provided his ancient people a way to procure the forgiveness of sins.  These were not empty rituals at all.  But they were still, in a sense, insufficient.

We just sang a wonderfully rich hymn, “not all the blood of beasts, on Jewish altars slain, could give the guilty conscience peace or take away the stain”.  That is to say, in and of themselves, all these sacrifices are worthless if there isn’t something more going on.  You see, these animal sacrifices are connected to the ultimate sacrifice, the once-and-for-all sacrifice, the holy and precious sacrifice of God’s own Son, Jesus Christ.  “A sacrifice of nobler name and richer blood than they.”

Without Christ, all those Old Testament animals died in vain.  But inasmuch as they were commanded by God and found the promise of forgiveness in their eventually perfect fulfillment – they were a great blessing.  And now that they are fulfilled in Christ, that system of shedding blood has come to an end.  The perfect blood of Christ has been shed.  The sacrifice is complete.  It is finished.  In the New Covenant in his blood, we do not sacrifice any longer, anticipating his great sacrifice.  But rather we receive a sacrament of his body and blood – in remembrance of him – according to his words – for the forgiveness of sins.

But back to the pigeons.  Where do they fit in?  The pigeon is a humble bird.  Not a soaring eagle, a bird of prey.  Not a wise owl or majestic peacock.  They are a dime a dozen, pigeons.  Humble and lowly.  God’s kind of bird.

If a sacrifice was to be made, and the person making it was of little means – that is, if they were poor – they didn’t have to offer a sheep or goat or bull, they could offer instead two turtledoves or two pigeons.

This is what Mary and Joseph offered when they went to the temple with the baby Jesus.  For Mary’s purification and the redemption of Jesus as the firstborn, the Holy Family offered the sacrifice of the poor – as we read in Luke 2 –

22 And when the time came for their purification according to the Law of Moses, they brought him up to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord 23 (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every male who first opens the womb shall be called holy to the Lord”) 24 and to offer a sacrifice according to what is said in the Law of the Lord, “a pair of turtledoves, or two young pigeons.”

If you cannot pay the price of a sheep or goat he gives them a discount – give a couple of pigeons instead.  If you cannot pay the price of your own sin, He will provide the sacrifice himself.  He did it for Abraham with the ram caught in the thicket – sparing him from sacrificing his son Isaac.  And he does it for us with Christ, sparing us from the blood guilt on our own ledger with the holy precious blood of Jesus. Isn’t it just like our God to both demand a sacrifice, but they also provide the sacrifice he demands? 

Christ has a special place in his heart for the poor.  He blesses the poor in spirit.  He commends the faith of the poor widow who gave just her two pennies.  He tells of poor Lazarus, who went to Abraham’s bosom, while the rich man went to Hades.  He’s the same God who held Israel accountable for treating the poor unjustly, and who calls us to care for the poor widow and orphan.

But no matter our wealth and riches, we are all poor before God.  We have nothing to offer of any value, and only a rotten collection of shabby works as filthy rags.  But it’s best to come to God acknowledging your sin and need, and seeing him fill it.  As Luther’s dying words scrawled on a note in his pocket remind us – “we are all beggars, this is true”. 

So here Christ cleanses the temple.  He wants his Father’s house to be a house of prayer, not a den of robbers.  He doesn’t want the poor to be cheated, but rather to have fair treatment when it comes to their sacrifices.  But even more, he comes to fulfill all sacrifices – not with gold or silver, and not with the blood of beasts – but with his own blood, his own life, his own self-sacrifice for sin.

Thus he cleanses us of all corruption and iniquity.  He drives out the evil from our own midst.  His Spirit claims us as his temple.  And our bodies become living sacrifices in his service, in his kingdom. 

Glory be to Jesus.  Amen.

Sermon - Lent 2 - Mark 8:27-38

Mark 8:27–38

“The Things of God, the Things of Man”

In some ways this passage, Peter’s "great confession", is the lynchpin of Mark’s Gospel.  Up until this point we’ve had many questions swirling about who this Jesus is.  Now, Jesus himself poses the question, “Who do people say that I am?”  And after hearing all the popular answers, sharpens the question, “But who do YOU say that I am?”  And after what I imagine to be a pregnant pause, Peter, dear Peter pipes up (as he always seems to do).  “You are the Christ!” 

Jesus accepts this confession.  Which is striking in itself.  While Jesus rarely is so direct as to out-and-out claim his status as Messiah, he gives others the opportunity to confess it – and he accepts that confession. 

And now, what makes this so very important, is that Jesus uses this occasion – now that the cat is officially and openly out of the bag – yes he’s the Christ, the Messiah.  Now Jesus is going to teach them exactly what that means:

And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes and be killed, and after three days rise again.

“You confess me as the Christ, well that’s good that you do, Peter.  But before we go any further let’s talk about just what the Christ is here to do.  I’m heading to Jerusalem.  Oh, I know that’s where my enemies are strongest, my opposition the fiercest.  But that’s precisely the point.  There I will be rejected, officially.  There I will have to suffer many things.  It’s going to be so bad, actually, that they will put me to death.  But after the third day, I will rise again.”

Mark says he told them this plainly.  There were no parables, no figures of speech.  No encoded messages to decode.  But it was such a shock, so out of their realm of expectations, that they didn’t, perhaps couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.

And so dear Peter, who moments ago had his great confession, now has a moment of great foolishness.  He takes Jesus aside and begins to rebuke him. 

Perhaps Peter fancied himself the realist to Jesus’ idealist.  Perhaps he thought Jesus was a great teacher and all, but just wasn’t being very practical here.  “Jesus,” Peter might have tried to pedantically explain, “You can’t go talking like that.  Look I don’t know what you’re trying to prove but this sort of thing will scare people.  Can’t you tell a different parable or something – we like the one about the lost sheep, how about it?  This talk of dying, I mean, it’s so pessimistic.  People like good news, uplifting stuff.  Oh, and how about some practical preaching?  People always like to hear what they can do…”

I wonder how long Jesus let Peter prattle on before he had enough of it.  And even though Peter had “taken Jesus aside”, we might wonder how far aside – and did the other disciples get the gist of what Peter was trying to do?  Did they, too, hope Peter could talk some sense into Jesus? 

Maybe that’s why Jesus answered Peter’s semi-private rebuke with a very public and stinging rebuke of his own.  He turns back to the disciples and says, “Get behind me Satan!  You do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of man.”

Ouch. When Jesus calls you Satan, you know you’ve gone wrong.  But that’s just how deadly serious Jesus is about all this.  In fact, there is nothing more important than his mission of suffering and death and resurrection.   Not the favor of the crowd.  Not the appeasement of his enemies.  Not even poor Peter’s feelings.  If there’s one thing you have to get straight about the Christ, it’s that he comes to suffer, die, and rise.

Peter had in mind the things of man.  Which are really the things of Satan, too.  Creature comforts as opposed to suffering.  Honor and glory instead of humility and rejection.  Success and achievement instead of an ignominious death.  The things of man that we are also familiar with. 

When we cast our lot in with this sort of thinking, we must repent. When we think, like Peter did, that we know better than Jesus, we’d better think again.  And if we think we can follow Jesus without taking up our own cross – then we’ve also got another thing coming.

But the things of God – the things of Jesus – are different.  Suffering.  Sacrifice.  Servanthood.  Submission to God’s will.  Shame.  Sorrow.  And ultimately, and especially, the cross.

One definition of the word, “Theology” is, “the study of God” or “of God’s Word.”  But another way of translating “theo-logos” is, “The matters of God”, or even, “The things of God”.

Peter’s theology was really a messed up anthropology.  He had in mind the words of man, not the word of God.  And we deserve a rebuke any time we do the same.

Luther once contrasted what he called the “Theology of Glory” with the “Theology of the Cross”.  The theology of glory is what Peter had in mind.  The theology of the cross, however, finds God acting in weakness and suffering and death. 

One Lutheran theologian puts the contrast this way:

A theology of glory expects total success, finding all the answers, winning all the battles, and living happily ever after. The theology of glory is all about my strength, my power, and my works. A theologian of glory expects his church to be perfect and always to grow. If a theologian of glory gets sick, he expects God to heal him.

And if he experiences failure and weakness, if his church has problems and if he is not healed, then he is often utterly confused, questioning the sufficiency of his faith and sometimes questioning the very existence of God.

But, Luther pointed out, when God chose to save us, He did not follow the way of glory. He did not come as a great hero-king, defeating his enemies and establishing a mighty kingdom on earth. Rather, He came as a baby laid in an animal trough, a man of sorrows with no place to lay His head. And He saved us by the weakness and shame of dying on a cross. Those who follow Him will have crosses of their own: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me” (Gene Veith)

So, dear Christians, be like Peter – in confessing Jesus as the Christ.  But don’t be like Peter – having in mind the things of man.  Much to be preferred are the things of God.

For such a theology shows us a Christ who suffers and dies to save us.  It shows us a cross that is far more than a pretty decoration for you wall, but an instrument of torturous death by which God’s own Son saves us from death and hell. 

And after the cross comes life.  Did you catch that part of it, Peter?  Or were you too busy stumbling over the scandal of the cross?  Without his cross, there is no death, and no death, no resurrection.  And no resurrection for Jesus means no resurrection for you.  Without the resurrection of Christ our faith is in vain.  But Christ has been raised.  And our faith is not in vain at all.

The Christ must suffer and die and rise, or he not the Christ at all.  The Christ must go to the cross, to suffer, die, and rise, and save – for this is the will of God, and these are the things of God.

Jesus would not be deterred from that cross, by Peter, by Satan, or by anything or anyone.  The cross was before him.  Satan can get behind him.

Now, get Satan behind you, too.  Take up your cross and follow Jesus and his.  Get your theology right. Have in mind the things of God. Fix your eyes on Jesus and his cross.  For there, and only there, can you find the Christ, and there, and only there, is your salvation.