Sermon - Advent 1 - Luke 19:28-40

 

Luke 19:28–40

“The Messiah Comes to Save”

A blessed Advent season to you.  Advent means “coming”, and of course Christmas is coming – and for many it’s been here since November 1^st, especially in our ants-in-the-pants American culture.

But the Church is more patient and orderly.  We take our time approach the celebration of Christ’s birth.  And so, the season of Advent.  A mournful longing that takes us back to join the Old Testament people of God who prayed and waited and watched for the fulfilling of God’s messianic promise.  And much like Lent strikes a sober and even somber note of repentance which prepares us for the seriousness of Holy Week and the joy of Easter – Advent makes us liturgically ready for Christmas joy and celebration.

Advent also carries forward the reminder that yes, Christ has come, and yes, Christ is coming again!  Once he came in humility as the Babe of Bethlehem.  But his Second Advent is at hand – he will come again, but in glory, to judge the living and the dead.  We heard quite a bit about the last day, the end times, and the judgment day in the last few weeks.  Now that same theme reverberates in Advent – Christ is coming, and coming soon.  Here we even use blue paraments, in part, to remind us when he comes again it will be in the sky – and all will see him.

But there are other Advents.  There are the Old Testament advents – when he came and appeared in the burning bush, the pillar of cloud and fire, and as the Angel of the Lord.  There was the wrestling match with Jacob by the Jabbock River.  There was the visit to Abraham with the two angels.  Even when he stood in the road and blocked Balaam’s donkey.

And then in the New Testament, perhaps you wouldn’t call it an advent but simply an appearance – but the Ascended Christ appeared to Saul on the road to Damascus, and to John on the Island of Patmos. 

But today, the lectionary invites us to consider his triumphal advent, his kingly arrival on Palm Sunday.  Accompanied by the fanfare of the crowds, the cries of Hosanna, the palm branches strewn and the garments spread out before him.  He’s welcomed as king – as Son of David – and really, as Messiah.  The one who comes in the name of the Lord!

It’s a beautiful and celebratory event in Christ’s ministry that infects us with joy even today, as we see it as a foreshadowing of his great and final Advent in glory at the close of the age.  Christ is coming, and coming to save.  “Hosanna, save us now!” the church still prays, “Come quickly, Lord Jesus”

And yet not everyone took kindly to such adulation and praise.  The Pharisees said to him, “teacher, rebuke your disciples”.  And this is something maybe we need to examine a little further.

Well, for one thing, Jesus never responds well when other people tell him who to rebuke.  Do you want us to call down fire and brimstone on those cities, Lord?  No.  Send these annoying children away.  Oh, then Jesus gets indignant.  Send this woman away, she keeps crying out after us!  But Jesus engages her in conversation, and eventually grants her petition.  He’s a Lord of mercy, after all, and loves to welcome needy sinners into his good favor.

To be sure, Jesus does rebuke people.  He rebukes Peter, who would point him away from the cross, “no, Lord, this shall never happen to you”, “Oh Yeah?  Get behind me, Satan”.  He rebukes the disciples, “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them”.  He rebukes the crowd who wanted to stone the adulterous woman, “Let the one without sin cast the first stone”.  But he will rebuke on his timetable, and in his own way, those who need a rebuking.  Usually it’s those who oppose his word, and would stand in the way of the gospel, or keep people from receiving his grace.  It’s those who, like Satan himself, would turn Jesus away from his mission to the cross – if only they could.

The Pharisees here on Palm Sunday understand well the implications of the crowd’s celebration.  They would have been right in seeing all this messianic hubbub as pure blasphemy – if Jesus wasn’t, in fact, the Messiah.  If he was just some teacher, even a great teacher.  If he was only a man.  If he was anything but the One promised deliverer, David’s Son and David’s Lord.  But he is all that, and much more.  And he deserves the praises of the crowd, and much more.

Palm Sunday, as we’ve said, is a foretaste of the great Second Coming of Christ.  When he comes in glory, and all his angels with him, then the fanfare will be even more – it will be heavenly.  Then he will come to his own, not just his holy city – but to his holy bride. 

Jesus replies to the Pharisees, “If these were silent, even the stones would cry out”  Let’s unpack that a little bit, too.

On one level, he is accepting and validating their worship of him, as he always does.  Jesus rarely claims his divinity directly, but certainly never refuses the worship and praises of the faithful.  He is God, after all, and will never lie about himself. 

But when God is praised and worshipped in the Scriptures, it is less often for who he is, and more often for what he does for his people.  Their shouts of Hosanna, a form of worship, are at the same time a confession that he does, in fact, “save us!”  They may not fully understand how this will happen, they may be confused about what or whom they are being saved from – but the truth still stands.  The Son of David is on the scene.  And he comes to save. 

That we need saving is also part of that confession, and we can say it just as much as the Palm Sunday crowds.  We need saving from sin.  We need saving from death.  We need saving from the devil.  We need him to be the savior because we can’t save ourselves.  And so we rejoice that the Messiah has come to save.

Praises are due.  Worship must be given.  Honors are afforded.  Rejoicing is only natural.  It simply must be said.  And if the people didn’t say it, even nature itself would be forced to bear witness.  The stones would cry out.  The Messiah has come to save.

There’s one more advent we haven’t mentioned, and that is his coming among us today.  Jesus has arrived, and is here.  He is among us, for 2 or 3 and more have gathered in his name.  He is present, by his word of absolution and Holy Gospel.  He is preached and proclaimed to you from this pulpit.  And soon he will be in our midst in a most wonderful way, in, with, and under the bread and wine of his Holy Sacrament.  Here, too, the Messiah has come to save.

And here, today as well, those who are saved break out in songs of praise.  Think about what we do liturgically.  Before we receive Sacrament, we sing the Sanctus, which connects the song of the angels, that God is “holy, holy, holy” with the “Hosanna in the highest” of Palm Sunday.  We’re rehearsing and echoing the song of the crowd that day, in the song of the church through the ages when the Messiah comes to save.  And we sing after – “Lord, let your servant depart in peace…. For my eyes have seen your salvation”.  We depart from his sacramental presence with the peace of his salvation – because here he has come to act – to forgive – to save.

And if we didn’t recognize – even the stones might cry out.  In fact, that’s sort of what happens anyway.  Think about it.  What’s more dead and inert than a stone.  What’s more lacking life, than something like a stone that has never even been alive?  One answer might be:  the human heart, born into the corruption of sin.  And yet our Lord Jesus Christ, by his Spirit working through the Gospel and the water of Baptism, creates in me and you a new heart, and a right spirit.  He brings life from the dead, even, as we are buried and raised with Christ.

John the Baptist once tangled with the Pharisees, too.  He anticipated one of their arguments, “We have Abraham as our father”.  John was not impressed, he said, “God is able from these stones to raise up children for Abraham.”  And surely, that is what God does, through the miracle of the Gospel.  He raises up hard-hearted, stone-dead people of sin into fully new creations, alive and well, who shout and cry out their hosannas of praise to the Messiah who has come to save.

His Advent is, or should we say his advents are – at hand.  He came in the flesh, he came to his holy city, he came to the cross, he came to life again.  He comes in the word, he comes in the meal, and he will come again in glory, to judge the living and the dead.  But for his people, the Messiah always comes to save.  Thanks be to God.

Sermon - The Last Sunday in the Church Year - John 18:33-37

“Christ the King”

John 18:33-37

This Sunday, the Last Sunday in the Church Year, is observed by some, especially in the last 50-60 years, as “Christ the King Sunday”.  And while you see we haven’t called it that on our bulletin, the idea of Christ as King is clear in the cover art – There he is, seated on his throne, with angels attending him, and the caption is from our Gospel reading, “The Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory.”

Even if we don’t formally call it “Christ the King Sunday”, there is good reason on this day at the end of the church year, to not only focus on the end of this world and Christ’s second coming – but to remember that Christ is our king.  For he reigns in glory in heaven now – and when he returns it will be as triumphant and glorious as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  So a bit of a topical sermon this morning – as we consider Christ the King.

The alternate Gospel reading for Christ the King Sunday will serve as my text this morning.  Here we have Jesus discussing the nature of his kingship and his kingdom with Pontius Pilate.  We read from John 18:

33 So Pilate entered his headquarters again and called Jesus and said to him, “Are you the King of the Jews?” 34 Jesus answered, “Do you say this of your own accord, or did others say it to you about me?” 35 Pilate answered, “Am I a Jew? Your own nation and the chief priests have delivered you over to me. What have you done?” 36 Jesus answered, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would have been fighting, that I might not be delivered over to the Jews. But my kingdom is not from the world.” 37 Then Pilate said to him, “So you are a king?” Jesus answered, “You say that I am a king. For this purpose I was born and for this purpose I have come into the world—to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth listens to my voice.”

There are many places you could go in the Bible, especially the Old Testament, to learn about kings.  At the end of the time of the Judges, the people no longer wanted God as their king, but rebelliously demanded a king “like the other nations”.  So God relented and gave them what they asked for, though warning them having a king isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  A king will tax you heavily, force your labor, and take your sons off to war. 

Saul was the first of Israel’s kings.  A tall and handsome man who turned out to be a coward, and rotten on the inside.  But he did serve well as a foil for the next king, David, who is called “a man after God’s own heart”. 

David was mostly faithful, though his great sin with Bathsheba had consequences that reverberated throughout his family and his kingdom for generations. 

Solomon, David’s son and heir, also reigned in a time of peace and prosperity, built the temple, but it seems fell away from faith late in life. 

And his heirs divided the kingdom into two, and their successors were mere shadows of David and Solomon.  Mostly pagan kings (with a few faithful ones thrown in), the time of Israel’s kingdom came to an end at the hands of marauding world empires.

Later, came Jesus.  The Son of David who would sit on David’s throne forever.  The one called both in mockery and in truth, the “King of the Jews”. 

What a strange king he is.  His kingdom is not of or from this world.  It is other-worldly.  His servants don’t fight to save him from death, like the soldiers of an earthly king are pledged to do.  In fact when Peter draws his sword and begins slicing ears to defend Jesus – Jesus quickly rebukes him.

While this king did make a grand and royal entrance to his city not a week before, he still showed great humility – coming in peace and riding a lowly donkey. 

And now, this king from another world stands before the closest thing to a king the Jews would know – an earthly ruler with the singular power over life and death.  Pilate represented Caesar, and in terms of earthly power, kingly power, there was no rival. 

What an irony that the King of Kings stands before this earthly ruler.  Who is putting whom on trial here?  Who has the authority over whom?  But Jesus stands humbly before Pilate, and will even submit silently to the sentence Pilate delivers. 

Pilate wants to know if Jesus is the King of the Jews.  And of course he is.  He is the fulfillment of God’s promise to David that his throne would endure forever.  He is the long-awaited Messiah of the Jews, the anointed one.  But he is, of course, much more than the king of one tribe or nation.  He is also the heavenly King.  He is God.

And we must admit -  Pilate isn’t the only human ever to get too big for his britches before God.  From the first sin of the first sinner, we humans have always sought to take God’s place on the throne.  To make ourselves the king, the one to set the rules.  “You’re not the boss of me” our rebellious nature would say, as a petulant child on the playground might.  We want the throne and the crown for ourselves. We want the power, the glory, the worship.  Sinful man gets it upside down as usual, just as Pilate did.

Pilate should have been on trial before the true King here.  Pilate should have had to answer to him.  And the righteous Judge, Jesus Christ, could have passed a just verdict of death upon Pilate and any other sinner.

But this strange king from another world doesn’t.  One day he will judge the living and the dead.  But for now, he had another task.  A kingly task.  He came to die.

Not in glorious battle as the kings of the earth might do – charging the field with sword brandished and war cry fierce.  Rather, this king fights by not fighting, he wins the day by losing everything.  He conquers death by dying.

His crown is not a golden, jewel-encrusted decoration of great riches and honor, but a crown of thorns, twisted together by the mockery of soldiers and meant to add to his suffering.

His throne is not some high and grand and regal perch from which he hands down pronouncements and decrees.  But rather, his throne is the cross, from which issues forth his blood – shed to atone for sin.  From there he prays for our forgiveness.  There he offers the once-and-for-all sacrifice to win that forgiveness.

And his kingly title is not sounded by a herald and trumpet, with a long list of earthly honors – but a wooden sign that says, “king of the Jews”.  And even that, meant in sarcasm and insult.  But that title written in Hebrew, Latin and Greek so that all nations could read it – confesses that his kingship is over all nations, and his kingly activity is meant for all.

Finally, Jesus teaches Pilate that his kingdom and kingship have to do with the truth.  That the reason Jesus was born was to proclaim the truth.  And that everyone who is of the truth listens to his voice. 

So much of earthly kingship, and human exercise of power, has to do with lies, half-truths, and political spin.  Pilate himself was guilty of it – though he admitted Jesus was without fault, condemned him as a criminal.  Though he alone gave the word of order, he symbolically washed his hands as if to deny the responsibility for it.

But Christ our King is all about the truth.  And his truth is like no other. The truth is we are guilty, but he comes to satisfy justice for us.  The truth is we want to be our own king, but he shows us the truth of our sin.  The truth is he is not just a king, but our king, our loving and merciful king.

And he, like all kings, rules.  But that’s not the most notable thing about this king who is no from this world.  A good king not only rules, but also protects his subjects, even fights for them in the thick of the battle.  And our good and great king does so like no other.  He defeats our old evil foe and holds the field forever.  He gives us the victory, even his victory over death.  And he gives us our own crown of righteousness.  When he comes again in glory, our heavenly king, we receive a share in his eternal reign – thrones and crowns and glorified, resurrected bodies – and an eternal place in his heavenly courts.

All hail Christ the King!  The King of the Jews.  The King of the Universe.  The King who rules with power and might and yet shows great mercy. The king who always speaks truth, and whose truth sets us free.  The king who will come again in glory, and whose kingdom will never end.

Sermon - Pentecost 25 - Mark 13:1-13

Mark 13:1-13

Don’t be led astray.  Endure to the end.

For the ancient Jews, like Jesus’ disciples, they had few experiences of awe as stunning as coming to the temple.  This temple in Jerusalem was built 500 years ago in the time of Ezra, had been renovated and expanded by the famous builder-king Herod the Great, yes the same one who tried to have Jesus killed as in infant. 

Most of the work Herod did was completed in just 3 years, but ongoing construction continued for about 80 years.  It wasn’t completed until 67AD, just three years before the Romans destroyed the temple in 70AD.

But for simple Galilean fishermen and their friends, it was an impressive sight.  Huge white stones were featured, which would have dwarfed temple goers.  Some of these stones were 45 feet high and weighed 500-600 tons.

Herod’s construction was magnificent and it far exceeded even the specifications God gave for first temple that was built during the glory days of King Solomon.

But the temple had, in many ways, become an idol to those people.  It became more a triumphant symbol of Jewish nationalism – a point of pride – and less the house of prayer, the house of God, where the merciful Yahweh came to meet his people. 

And the same Jesus who cleansed the temple by turning over its money-changing tables – now speaks of the toppling of even the great stones that so impressed everyone.  The same God who frustrated the construction project of the Tower of Babel, would eventually bring this great edifice also to ruin.  In 70 AD the Romans besieged Jerusalem, destroyed it, and demolished the temple.  Never to be built again, to this day.  All that remains is the western wall, called the “wailing wall”, where modern Jews still pray and mourn the loss of their great temple.

What does this history lesson have to do with you and me?  For one thing, Jesus is warning us not to be attached to this world.  He’s warning us not to be impressed by the great and mighty things of this world.  For the wonders of the world, the achievements of man, even the very foundations of the world itself, are passing away.  This world has an expiration date.  It will not go on this way forever.

Sure the temple was destroyed just 40 years after Jesus spoke these words.  And yes, he surely knew that would happen.  But that event was itself a foreshadowing of the end of the world, the judgment day, and of the second coming of Christ.

Jesus is teaching his disciples, and us, to see the signs.  The signs of the times.  The signs of the end.  For we are living in a world that is passing away, and Christ is coming soon. And he wants us to be ready.

So Peter and Andrew, James and John take Jesus aside and ask for more details.  They especially are concerned with the “when” of it all.  Jesus doesn’t tell them the when, but he sure does tell them more of the “what” to expect:

False prophets.  Many coming and claiming to be the Messiah, in one fashion or another.  We’ve seen this fulfilled all throughout history, and we see it even today.  It’s not just the cult leaders or even the office of the papacy, but any would-be-Christ-figure who promises salvation outside of the true Christ alone. 

Wars and rumors of war.  The 20^th century has seen more bloodshed than perhaps any other previous.  So much for human progress.  And while we live in a time of relative peace, there’s still the rumors of wars – Russia, China, whatever… nation rising against nation.  But there’s also the culture wars and the clash of worldviews opposed to the teachings of Christ and his church.

Earthquakes and famines, all manner of natural disasters.  We’ve had a stark reminder of this with the Covid pandemic these past couple years.  It shouldn’t shock us.  These sorts of things are part of life.  Part of living in a fallen, broken, world.  Yes, even for the Christian church.

He compares all this to a woman in labor.  They are like birth pangs.  They come and go, but they do tend to get worse as the end draws near. 

And persecution.  He goes on quite a bit more about this.  Perhaps because, especially for these disciples, they would face fierce persecution.  They would be beaten and dragged before all manner of powerful men.  Yet in the midst of all this, they would have many opportunities to proclaim the gospel, and testify to Christ.

And yes, as if to put a final warning on top of it all – the trouble of the end times will see even families at odds with one another – brothers and even parents and children having each other put to death.  It’s hard to imagine, but we seen glimpses of it even in our own lives.

That’s a lot of warning, a lot of trouble, a lot of bad news.  And if that’s all that Jesus had to offer we might well be driven to despair.  We might dread the future and have no hope.  This sinful world is a tangled up, broken mess of disasters of human making and of the fallen nature.  And worse, we bring our own sins to the party and cannot escape any of it on our own.  But he does not leave us without hope.

For Christians, the second coming of Christ, the judgment day, the Great Epiphany, and whatever other names we call it – the Day of the Lord – is a good day.  It is the day of salvation.  For Jesus says, “the one who endures to the end will be saved.”

But just like we don’t come to faith on our own, we surely can’t endure to the end on our own.  Jesus tells us the many troubles the church must face, and that we individually might face – not so much to scare us straight – but as a way of comforting us.  Yes, he knows how bad it can get, how bad it will get, before his comes back.  But he sends his Spirit to keep us so that we would endure to the end and be saved. 

That any make it through all this trouble, this vale of tears, this great tribulation at all – is a miracle of God’s grace!  But our God is in that very business.  It is in fact by many of these sufferings that he produces in us patience and character and endurance and hope – a hope which does not fail.

Friends, Christ will return.  It’s more certain than the sun rising and setting.  For even the sun and stars and moon, as Daniel writes, even the mightiest features of this created order will fail and pass away.  But the word of the Lord endures forever.  And the promises of Christ are strong and sure.  And Jesus will not lead you astray.  You can always, always trust his word.

And like birth pangs, also, not only do all these troubles come and go and yet increase toward the end… but they also lead to a joyful conclusion.  For as the pains of labor lead ultimately to the arrival of a new life – a child – a joyous celebration, so also do the birth pangs of this world’s travails lead ultimately to eternal joy at the glorious appearing of Christ the victorious king!

And with one last glance at this passage, two commands of Jesus might well ring in our ears.  Do not be led astray.  Endure to the end.

Do not be lead astray, Christians.  Do not be led astray into false hopes apart from Christ, or to despair of all hope entirely.  But rather put your faith and trust in the one who can see you through all this to its glorious end. The only one who died for your sins and lives to bring life and immortality to light.  The only name under heaven by which we must be saved.

Endure to the end, Christians.  And how do we do that?  By remaining in Christ, abiding in his word, knowing the truth that sets us free.  By repenting of our sins, and living the baptismal life, and turning to Christ for forgiveness every day.  By receiving his body and blood regularly, that it would strengthen and preserve you – to life everlasting.  He does not leave us to all these end times troubles.  But he carries us through them by his gifts – word, sacrament, faith.

So don’t be in awe at the things of this world, the achievements of man like huge temple stones, or be distracted by the spectacles and wonders of even God’s own creation.  Trust in Christ, and in his word which will endure forever. 

And the peace of God which passes all understanding…

Sermon - Reformation Day - John 8:31-36

 

“Reformation Truth”

A blessed and joyous Reformation Day to you.  This special Sunday is observed, particularly in Lutheran churches, because of the historical significance of October 31^st, 1517.  An Augustinian monk named Martin Luther posted 95 theses, or statements for debate on the castle church door in Wittenburg Germany.

And while it seems that something 500 years ago is far off and might be well forgotten, we give thanks to God not so much for a man named Luther, but what the Lord of the Church accomplished through him and the other reformers.

Oh sure there are many ways to look at the Reformation.  You could see it as a great story of standing up for what you believe in against powerful institutions.  Or a tale about the courage of one’s convictions.  Or the triumph of the individual over the giant faceless bureaucracy.  But that’s not really why we still set aside a whole Sunday for this.

You see Reformation Day is all about truth.  The Truth of the Gospel.  The same truth that we hear about in our reading from Revelation 14 – where an angel is depicted with an “eternal gospel”.  The truth of God good news for us in Jesus Christ, you see, never changes.  It’s the same truth Paul writes about in Romans 3 – that we are saved by grace through faith apart from works of the law.  It was true for Paul back then.  It was true for Abraham before him, saved by grace through faith.  And it’s true for us even now, even today.

It’s also the truth that Jesus talks about in John 8, our Gospel reading today.  The truth that sets you free.  Here’s one of those sayings that many people repeat and probably don’t know it comes from the Bible – or even that it’s Jesus who said it, “The truth will set you free!”

But Jesus isn’t talking about the truth in general.  Although we are certainly in favor of that.  We even teach truth as one of the core values at our classical school – truth, goodness and beauty – the overarching principles of classical education.  I think Jesus would be in favor of all that.

But what he’s talking about here is the truth with a capital T.  The truth of God’s word.  And that word really has two parts, two sides as a coin.

Anyone who sins is a slave to sin.  That’s the bad news.  It’s what we Lutherans call the law.  And it stops every mouth so that no one has an excuse.  All have sinned and fall short of God’s perfect law.  No one is righteous, not one.  No one can be justified by works of the law, because we all break the law every day in many ways.  Or as Jesus puts it, “anyone who sins is a slave to sin.” And “a slave has no permanent place in the house”.

This is part of the Reformation truth that Luther rediscovered.  That all the works and rituals and traditions of the church, all the penance performed and all the money donated, even the formal and flowery documents of indulgence issued on the authority of the pope himself – that all of it was rubbish.  Worthless.  None of it can save you.  We can never do enough good works to make up for our sins.  We can never stop sinning anyway, and so our debt is far too great for us to pay.  Our situation, on our own, before God, is without hope.  We are in bondage – slaves to sin.

But Paul didn’t leave us without hope.  And Luther finally rediscovered that hope.  And Jesus of course always held out that hope – the hope of the Gospel which is the very power of God for salvation.  The good news that even though you can’t save yourself, Jesus has done it all for you! 

Even though you are a slave to sin, he is the Son – the Son of God and the Son of Man – the one, the only one who can free you from sin and death and hell.  The only one who’s good works are good enough for God.  The only one who’s blood can cover sin.

This Jesus is the truth that sets you free.  And if you abide in his word, you know him. 

Abide.  There’s a funny word.  It means to live in it, remain in it, to sort of soak yourself thoroughly in his word.  So that the word of God is never far from you – but always in your ear, on your lips, in your heart.  This is why we rehearse it with our children – and teach it in our catechism.  So that they, too, will abide in the word of Christ, know the truth, and that truth will set them free. 

No, it doesn’t mean that we never sin again.  Christians still do.  Though rather than making a practice of sin, a lifestyle of sin, rather than running headlong into sin full steam ahead – the Christian is different. 

If we abide in the truth of the Gospel, we will begin to see sin as something alien to us – not a part of who God has made us in Christ to be.  And so we struggle against our sins.  We wrestle with them.  And we live in repentance – confessing our sins to Christ the Son who always stands ready with his forgiveness.  And so the first of Luther’s 95 theses got it right, “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ``Repent'' (Mt 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”

Luther lived at a time when the church had largely forgotten all this.  They began to abide in other things than his word.  But God worked through this German monk with all his flaws and shortcomings, and the Gospel truth of Salvation by grace alone rang out clear once again.

Another important Reformation Day truth clarifies where we go for this truth.  The pope in Rome claimed to speak for Christ, and with him the Church claimed to speak for God – even over against Scripture.  Church tradition and customs usurped the clear and simple words of the Bible in many ways.  A course correction was long overdue.  And so the reformers rallied around the slogan, “Sola Scriptura”, that is “Scripture Alone”.  Scripture alone is our source of Christian teaching.  Scripture alone is infallible and finally trustworthy.  Popes and councils can and do go wrong.  But God’s word will never lead us astray. 

So when Jesus says “abide in my word and you will know the truth”, we hear an encouragement to read our bibles, trust God’s word, and know follow what he teaches us there – and not to hold blindly to the traditions and teachings of man. 

Of course this is also true for Martin Luther, too.  Much of what Luther taught and preached was good and right and true.  And for that we give thanks to God.  But some of what he said and did was frankly quite embarrassing.  We must remember, our faith is in Christ, not Luther.  Our trust is in Christ’s word, not Luther’s word.  When Luther agrees with Christ, we agree with Luther.  But when Luther departs and falls short, we stick with Jesus Christ.

Which brings us to another great truth of the reformation, “Solus Christus” or “Christ Alone”

A faith based on the Bible, a faith that is right and true, is a faith that trusts Christ alone, and knows salvation through Christ alone.

The truth is there is no salvation outside of Christ.  Certainly not in ourselves.  Not in any other god.  Not in any idea or philosophy or religion or ism.  Jesus says it himself, “I am the way and the truth and the life, no one comes to the Father by through me”.

But it’s not Jesus “plus-something” either.  Jesus plus your good works.  Jesus plus your commitment. Jesus plus you agreeing to accept him into your heart.  Oh no.  Salvation by grace alone through faith alone is in Christ ALONE.  You can’t add anything to what Jesus has already done for you.  He has done it all.  His work is sufficient.  His sacrifice was perfect.  His blood atones for all your sin.

We thank God on this Reformation day for reforming and sustaining his church.  Luther faced his challenges.  We face our own.  In a day and age when truth itself is under fire, and some question if truth even exists – may we continue to abide in the word of Christ and rejoice in the truth.  Thanks be to God for salvation by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone – the truth of the Gospel that sets us free!