Sermon - Pentecost 17 - Matthew 20:1-16

 

“A Kingdom of Grace”

“My kingdom is not of this world” Jesus once said. And if you had any doubt, take a look at the parables he tells about his kingdom.

Here we have another. The parable of the Workers in the Vineyard. As a story it's simple enough. Even the meaning is easy to determine. But fully appreciating the mysterious sense of Divine justice that lies underneath - this is something that takes great faith. For our Lord and Master is generous with us, and in Christ has given us more than what is fair.

The kingdom of this world is a kingdom of rules and laws. We live under them and know them well. You stand in line at the grocery store and get a ticket at the deli counter. First come, first served. When you get to a stop sign, the person there first has the right of way. And when you do your job, you expect every two weeks or so, for that little piece of paper you can take to the bank. It's the way the world works – you earn something, it's yours. Those are the kinds of rules we live by every day.  You get what you pay for.  You reap what you so.

From the earliest child who utters those words, “hey, no fair!” to the citizen pursuing legal recourse in the courts of law – we have a keen sense of what is fair and what is not – especially when we feel we are bearing the brunt of injustice. “It's not fair” we say, when a neighbor sins against us, and we are right.

But most of our dads have told us, “life isn't fair”. This sinful world doesn’t always operate by the rules of fair play.  Quite often, it does not.  People take advantage of the rules for their own gain.  And they skirt or break the rules when it’s convenient, often to the harm of their neighbors.  In earthly terms, in everyday experience, we expect fairness on the one hand, but on the other hand we know not to expect it, because life isn’t fair. 

And we teach our children ways to cope with its unfairness.  Work harder than the next guy.  Keep your focus.  You can only control your own actions, not someone else’s, and so on. 

And those practical tips are good as far as they go, but at its most fundamental level, when it comes to ultimate reality, when we stand before our God, will he be fair?  Will he treat us as we deserve?  Is he consistent and reliable and just?  Is he fair, or not?

What exactly is Jesus saying about life in his kingdom? Sometimes life treats us unfairly, people treat us unfairly, we should just toughen up and take it? Stop whining? Is that the point?

Take a close look at this parable.  Our Heavenly Father, of course, is the Master who gives generously. The vineyard is his kingdom, the church, and we are the workers. And things get a bit strange in this vineyard, this kingdom that is not of the world.

For one, what's important isn't so much how much or how long we work, but that we are his employees. We belong to him.

He pays a wage we could never earn standing around outside his kingdom. And that is where we are, without his grace.  Idle, lost, aimless and hopeless.  But the kind master keeps coming to the market and calling more and more workers.  By the end we get the picture it’s not so much because he needs the work done, but because he wants to be generous.

It's really not a wage, you see, after all, you see. It's a gift. There is nothing mentioned about the quality of the work, or the nature of the duties.  He doesn’t measure how hard they’ve worked or how few coffee breaks.  And he certainly isn’t concerned with when these workers clocked in for the day.  The wage isn’t tied to the work. It’s a gift, from the master’s generosity.

And while we all think we're the ones that have worked the longest and hardest, we should all see ourselves as the ones coming late and working least.  As St. Paul wrote, “I am the chief of sinners”.

Scripture tells us what our good works are worth before God – filthy rags. No one is righteous, not one. We can't earn it, deserve it, or have it coming to us. We have incurred a debt of sin, but instead we often act as if God owes us! How foolish and arrogant. How like the sinner.

The only one whose work in the vineyard amounts to anything is the owner's own Son. In another vineyard parable, Jesus tells how the tenants mistreated the messengers and bloodied the servants, but when the owner of the vineyard sent his very son – they murdered him.

Yes the wages for the workers were won at the cross. Jesus' own precious blood, shed there for the world, worth far more than gold or silver or denarius or dollar.... he paid the price for the wages we really deserve- the wages of sin – the penalty of death.

And here's the secret of the vineyard, that really is no secret – Jesus, by his Spirit, does it all! He plants the vineyard, that is HE builds his church.

He calls the workers: calls, gathers, enlightens and sanctifies the church, calls each of us by name in baptism, and calls each of us to tasks and offices in the church and in the world. 

He makes the fruit grow, and he provides the harvest. He gives us strength for our tasks through his Spirit, wisdom to accomplish them, and a reward at the end we don't even deserve.

To which someone might say, “hey, not fair”. Not fair that he does it all, all the work of fulfilling the law, all the work of dying for sins, all the work of bringing us to faith, even, by his Spirit. In fact, our old sinful nature is always trying to take part of the credit for all this, trying to do the work, at least in part. But the work of our salvation is not the work we are called to do.

We are called to work, though. In this vineyard, there is the work of sowing seeds and tending vines. Teaching, preaching, showing mercy, encouraging, singing, cooking, cleaning, caring for children. What are your talents and abilities? In Christ's church there is always lots for us to do. 

And outside of this church building, the church is still at work – we do what we are called to do in everyday life as service to God and neighbor. Fathers and mothers, employees, coaches, students, volunteers, whatever. Whatever God has given us to do, the Christian does in faith, and the work is done for God.  The neighbor is served.

But none of it earns the reward. Not the heavenly reward, anyway. Here's another strange way of God's kingdom – the workers work for free. We do it because we've already been paid well more than we could hope to earn. Such is life in the vineyard, so is the way of his kingdom.

A very different kingdom. Where you don't earn your pay. Where you don't get what you deserve. Where God serves man. Where death brings life. Where the last are first and the first are last. And where sinners are made righteous because the righteous one took all sin. A kingdom not of this world – a kingdom not of fairness, but of grace.

All praise and thanks to the king, the Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, for calling us to faith and service. For his is the kingdom and the power and glory forever and ever. Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 16 - Matthew 18:21-35

 Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, usually when you hear a parable from Jesus, you have to stop and think about it carefully. What deep truth about his kingdom did the Lord weave into the story? How do the various elements of the parable apply to your faith and life? What lesson is your Lord teaching you?

Those are great questions, but today’s parable isn’t like that. Jesus didn’t hide his intent at all – indeed, the great challenge in this parable is not in determining what Jesus was teaching, but rather in the sobering ramifications of that teaching. Your Lord’s words leave no options or excuses for anyone.

A man owed a debt he could not repay. That’s understated, actually, as this debt was so great that only a few of the richest people who have ever lived in the history of the world had those kinds of resources. Its equivalent worth today would be billions of dollars. It was a debt on a scale that is usually reserved for states and nations; not individuals. The debt was so preposterously enormous that even the idea of one man being responsible for such a sum would ludicrous, but that was a key aspect of the parable.

A man owed a debt he could never, ever hope to repay. Unbelievably, though, it was completely erased by the mercy of the king. That, in and of itself, is a remarkable story. It’s a story Jesus’ hearers would have loved to learn. After all, it was pretty obvious Jesus wasn’t really speaking about debt and finances, but about sin and forgiveness. He was answering Peter’s question about the limits of forgiveness toward those who sin against him. In a stunning way, Jesus basically taught that there are no limits to that forgiveness.

But then the parable took a discomforting turn. Another man owed a modest debt to the first man in the parable. It was much more realistic; about 100 days’ worth of wages for the average worker. Many people spend more than that buying a car or truck. When Jesus introduced that man told of the debt he owed to the first man, his hearers were probably expecting to hear the same thing you and I were surely hoping to hear – we wanted to hear the “pay it forward” version of the parable, complete with the satisfaction of a happy ending where the one man who had been forgiven in turn forgave the other.

Yet that didn’t happen! The absolutely staggering debt originally forgiven by the king should have been the most unbelievable aspect of this parable, but that was totally surpassed by the even more unbelievable audacity of that forgiven servant who would not forgive the second man, even though his debt was comparatively miniscule! It was so ridiculously unfair and unjust that it simply defies explanation.

How could he be so cruel?

How greedy could he be?

How could one who had received so much mercy turn around and be so unmerciful?

Of course, when the king learned what happened, he brought down the hammer! His unbelievable mercy was withdrawn. The man was punished relentlessly. In fact, he got what he asked for – he’d originally pleaded with the king, “Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.” In anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt.

Then, just when things were starting to appear reasonable and just, Jesus brought the consequences of the parable to bear on his hearers. Just when you were so distracted by that great disparity of debts, that one was forgiven and the other not, Jesus reminds you that he was never talking about money or debtors prison; he was talking about sin and forgiveness the whole time. “So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.”

This Gospel is about you. Although you have God’s Word and you believe, and although you obey and submit to his will, and you are fed and nourished by his gracious gifts in the Means of Grace, you are not without sin. You still stumble daily because you live in this fallen world among people who anger you and give you cause for impatience, annoyance, and even thoughts of revenge. How forgiving would a husband really feel if his wife had an affair? Would he forgive her? What if she did it seven times? Or seventy-seven times? Or what if your children disobey you the exact same way seventy-seven times? Or what if other parishioners gossip about your family behind your back, or a robber takes your wallet, or a monster kidnaps your child? Would you forgive them? Seven times? Seventy-seven times?

The devil is after you and me in exactly the same way, tempting you on every side. “Hold grudges against those who do evil to you. Resent them. Hate them. Do not forgive them.”

There is a great need, therefore, to call upon your heavenly Father and pray, “Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” It isn’t that God doesn’t forgive your sins already for Jesus’ sake, even before you pray; the point here is that you whose sins are forgiven by God also therefore bear the fruit of having your sins forgiven. Those who are forgiven cannot help but forgive others.

Jesus’ purpose here is to break human pride and keep you humble. When it comes to the debt of sin, you and I are like that first servant in the parable. Our debt is so massive that it is absolutely impossible for us to justify ourselves before our heavenly Father. And it’s not only the number of sins that any of us have committed, but rather that we have our inherited sinfulness from our parents, generation after generation, all the way back to Adam. Therefore, anyone who boasts of their goodness and despises others is directed by Jesus to remember that they are no more righteous than anyone else, and that in the presence of God, all people must fall on their knees and rejoice that they have forgiveness from their merciful King.

Dear friends, do not ever think that you will reach a point in this life where you will not need this forgiveness; unless God endlessly forgives you, you are lost. Likewise, never let your hearts harden to the point that you cannot forgive your brother or your sister who sins against you and asks you, from the heart, for forgiveness.

Limiting forgiveness was behind Peter’s original question – and it was understandable, given he had just heard Jesus’ parameters for discipline and the removal of the unrepentant from the fellowship of the church. What Peter did not realize, but Jesus explained, was that punishment and judgment are not what God loves to do or lives for; they are God’s alien work, it’s foreign to him. He will do those things when he must, just as he announced at the end of the parable, but God’s chief work is to give you life, and to give it eternally. This he did by sending his Son in human flesh to bear your sin and be your Savior on the cross. This he continues to do by granting and strengthening your faith in his Son by the power of the Holy Spirit through the Means of Grace.

Peter got the message, and so, too, must you and I. There is no room in Christ’s church for grudges. Remember the love shown to you by Jesus Christ, your king, in forgiving the insurmountable debt of your sin. Your Lord does not love you with limits; rather, out of his love for you he forgives you through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and through the Holy Spirit he provides the means by which he delivers that forgiveness to you. He gives you faith in Jesus Christ, his Son.

And what you heard from Genesis today gives you an amazing example of the Holy Spirit at work in the life of the patriarch, Joseph. Joseph looked forward to the salvation God promised to Adam and Eve, and to Abraham, his great-grandfather. By that faith, Joseph saw God’s hand at work when his brothers sold him into slavery, which led to Potiphar’s wife falsely accusing him of adultery, which led to him being a prisoner in Egypt. His brothers had meant it for evil, but God worked it for good. Joseph forgave them.

This world is a war zone for us as sinners who are, by the grace of God, also saints. One of the battles in this war pits the urge to hold grudges against the free forgiveness God has given for you to give to others. Only the reconciliation with God that Jesus provided through his death on the cross gives you the victory! God does it all – it is his forgiveness from the cross and resurrection that gives you victory as you forgive one another now, and in eternity as you rejoice forever with thanksgiving in the mercy and grace of God who has forgiven your greatest debt.

To Christ be all the glory, forever and ever, amen.

Many thanks to Pr. Jonathan Bakker for this sermon.

Sermon - Pentecost 15 - Romans 13:1-10

We sinners have a problem with authority.  It’s not just the hippies from the 60’s, or the rioters a few summers ago.  It’s a natural inclination in every human heart to rebel against God, and against those who represent him in our lives.  But God’s gift of authority is a good thing, and it is meant for our good.  We see this in many ways.

 

All of our readings today touch on, in one way or another, God’s good gift of authority.  Ezekiel is set to be a prophet, one who speaks a hard word, an authoritative word, to wicked people.  And God charges him that whether they listen or not, it is still his duty to speak God’s word to them.  He speaks for God, with authority from God.

 

In Matthew 18 we have a number of topics, different aspects of sin and forgiveness.  But in verse 18 Jesus reiterates that what his representatives, his pastors, “bind on earth is bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth is loosed in heaven”.  He’s speaking of the authority to forgive and withhold forgiveness of sins.  A weighty authority given to his ministers, indeed.

 

These two, together, have to do with what Luther called the “Right Hand Government”, that is, how God exercises and delegates his authority in the church.  Through the preaching of the word, the forgiveness of sins, and the administration of the sacraments, God’s appointed representatives serve him by serving his people.

 

This really is another way of looking at the distinction between Law and Gospel.  God “governs” his church, as it were, by his law – showing us his expectations and also how we fall short.  And then justifying us freely by his grace in Jesus Christ. 

 

And then there is the “Left Hand Government” or kingdom, through which God governs everything in life that has to do with the earthly, the physical, the bodily.  And so earthly government, as shown in Romans 13, really functions as an agent of God.  All authorities are ultimately derived from God.  And the implications of this are huge.

 

It means that when we obey the authorities, we are really obeying God.  And when we rebel against authority, we rebel against God. 

 

And so this informs the Christian on how we regard the president, the governor, the mayor, the judge, the police, and so forth, as well as all authorities we find over us in life. 

 

From our earliest years we learn God’s good gift of authority through our parents.  They are God’s representatives to both love and protect, but also discipline us in all things.  What chaos ensues when parents shirk this authority – as we see in the crisis of missing fathers, or in parents who let the child do the parenting.  Choose your own school, choose your own religion, choose your own gender! 

 

But a good parent balances law and gospel, trains the child up in the word of the Lord, and knows that even these children of ours are not ultimately our own, they are the Lord’s.  On loan, to us, for a time.

 

Luther explains the Fourth Commandment in the Small Catechism, “We should fear and love God so that we do not despise or anger our parents and other authorities, but honor them, serve and obey them, love and cherish them.

 

Easier said than done.  Especially when we figure out that the people holding those positions of authority are also sinful.

 

You see it in the teenager who rebels against parents and calls out their hypocrisy.  You see it in adults who despise their boss who they perceive treats his employees unfairly.  Or in a wife who dishonors her husband as God-given head of the household, even though he may well deserve her criticism. 

 

Other times we abuse God’s good gift of authority by taking authority for ourselves when it is not given.  We put ourselves in the place of God over against others.  We make ourselves the judge, jury and executioner of our neighbor, without recognizing and honoring those who are truly given those roles.  But just as it is sinful to rebel against proper authority, so it is sinful to arrogate authority to ourselves which God has not given.

 

Humble submission to authority is a difficult thing to do, but we are called by God to do it.  And Paul gives two reasons:  One, for fear of punishment, and two, for the sake of conscience.

 

Even the unbeliever knows better than to go around breaking the law flagrantly.  For the government does not bear the sword in vain.  Break the law and there will be consequences, punishments.  Do the crime and serve the time. 

 

This is a good gift from God, to curb sin and maintain peace and order in the world.  If it were not for government, we would have anarchy and chaos, and the strong would certainly take advantage of the weak.  The devil would run even more rampant in our world, and the church could scarcely worship in peace.

 

But this second reason, “for the sake of conscience”, Paul shows how the Christian rightly obeys the authority without coercion.  We do it because it’s the right thing to do.  We do it because we love God, and the good gift of authority he’s given. 

 

Some misguided Christians have sought to be so separate from the world that they refuse to recognize earthly authority, refuse to serve in government, or be entangled in any way with earthly powers.  But the Augsburg Confession shows how Lutherans rightly see government and earthly order:

 

AC XVI:

 

“It is taught among us that all government in the world and all established rule and laws were instituted and ordained by God for the sake of good order, and that Christians may without sin occupy civil offices and serve as princes and judges, render decisions and pass sentence according to imperial and other existing laws, punish evildoers with the sword, engage in just wars, serve as soldiers, buy and sell, take required oaths, possess property, be married, etc.”

 

But as important as God’s rule is in the left-hand kingdom, as essential as law and order, peace and good government are, the left-hand kingdom knows only of the law.  Only in his right-hand kingdom does God exercise the Gospel.  And we might observe that God is “right handed”!

 

And seated at his right hand is his son, our Lord Jesus Christ, who said, “All authority in heaven and on earth as been given to me, therefore go and make disciples of all nations.. baptizing and teaching..”  Jesus has received authority, according to his human nature, and he shares that authority with his disciples, sending them to make more disciples, by baptizing and teaching.

 

So does he authorize his pastors, even today, to continue exercising this authority.  The authoritative public preaching of his word, and especially of Christ crucified.  The authorization to baptize all nations, by which his Spirit promises the washing of rebirth and renewal.  And the authorization to “do this in remembrance of me”, consecrating and distributing his gift of himself in the holy sacrament of his altar.  And forgiving sins, in his name, on his behalf, and with the authority of Jesus himself.

 

Whatever you bind on earth is bound in heaven.  Whatever you loose on earth is loosed in heaven.  The catechism explains this idea commenting on a similar saying of Jesus from John 20:

 

“I believe that when the called ministers of Christ deal with us by His divine command, in particular when they exclude openly unrepentant sinners from the Christian congregation and absolve those who repent of their sins and want to do better, this is just as valid and certain, even in heaven, as if Christ our dear Lord dealt with us Himself.”

 

And so the best reason to give thanks to God for his gift of authority is that through that authority, given to pastors, mere men…. We have the assurance of the forgiveness of our sins.  And it’s just as good and true and real as if Jesus Christ himself was standing her personally forgiving your sins. 

Sermon - Pentecost 14 - Matthew 16:21–28

 

We preach Christ crucified.  At the center of the Christian faith stands the cross of Jesus Christ.  It can be no other way.  This is because, for Jesus, it can be no other way.

 

On the heels of his great confession, where Peter got it right, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God”.  Now Jesus unpacks what exactly that means.  And Peter gets it oh-so-wrong.  Today’s reading is a continuation of the conversation we heard last week at Caeserea-Phillipi.  Let’s pick it up where we left off:

 

“From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things from the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised.”

 

With the cat out of the bag for these disciples, knowing and confessing that Jesus is the Christ – Jesus, from that time, began to show them the full implications of what being the Christ means.

 

And it is startling.  It is mind-bending, and expectation-exploding.  He must go to Jerusalem.  And already Peter must think this is a bad idea.  That’s where his enemies are, the elders, chief priests and the scribes, the Pharisees and Saducees – that’s where the Herods and Pontius Pilates of the world come to visit and exert their tyranny.  Nothing good can come of all that, Jesus.  Maybe you should just stay on the fringes and in the relative obscurity of the countryside.  Easier to hide out here.  Not so much danger. Look what happened to John the Baptist. Yes, let’s play it safe and keep the good times rolling here.  Or so Peter might have thought.

 

But Jesus goes on.  He must go to Jerusalem to suffer.  Specifically at the hands of his enemies, he must go to Jerusalem to suffer.  And who can be in favor of that?  Peter was probably like you and me, not a fan of suffering.  We try to avoid it if we can.  No one really likes it.  None of us think we deserve it.  But for Jesus, it’s part of the plan.  It is necessary, a must.  But it gets worse.

 

He will be killed.  His life taken away.  Of course, we know that no one really takes it from him, but he lays it down of his own accord.  But now Peter is getting really alarmed.  What is this talk?  This is not the hopeful talk of a leader, the inspiring speech of a true Messiah.  This is too pessimistic.  Maybe he just needs to talk some sense into Jesus.  Maybe Jesus is just having a bad day.  The Christ, the Son of the Living God, I need to correct him, Peter is saying to himself.  And can you imagine the arrogance?

 

Perhaps you can, because, like me, you are much like Peter.  The way of the cross is scandal to the Jew and foolishness to the Gentile.  The path of suffering and death is not a path you and I want to tread.  And the flesh balks at it.  The sinful man wants pleasure, not pain, glory, not shame, all of the good things, and none of the bad or unpleasant things.

 

But it’s a fantasy.  Because in the real world, we have suffering.  The real world is broken, it’s corrupt, and it’s passing away, and not without some kicking and screaming.  You don’t have to look too far to see the effects of sin in this world, your sin, or sin in general.  Maybe you see it in your broken marriage.  Maybe you see it in your rebellious children.  Maybe you see its effects on your body.  Maybe you see it in the cares and sorrows of your heart.  Oh, there’s plenty of suffering to go around.  Sin means suffering, and ultimately, death.  At the root of it all is the turning away from God that each of us has done, and still does, in small and big ways.  The Buddhist teaching that “life is suffering” isn’t that far off the mark. 

 

But, of course the Buddha holds no hope.  No man-made religion does. The human heart can’t cure itself.  And we can no more cleanse ourselves from sin than we could stand in a mud-pit and mop up the floor.

 

This is why we need Jesus, and not just any Jesus.  We need the Christ, the Son of the living God, yes.  But we need Christ crucified for sinners.  Thanks be to God that is exactly the Jesus we have.

 

Peter might have missed this part, but let’s you and I not skip it.  Jesus taught his disciples he must suffer and die, but also that he would rise on the third day.  And don’t gloss over this important truth!

 

For Jesus, suffering is not the end of the story.  For Jesus, death does not have the final word.  And so, too, for you and me who are in Christ.  The resurrection is proclaimed wherever the cross is preached.  His sacrifice for sin is always connected to is victory over death.  Suffering leads to glory, for Jesus, and so for us.

 

Peter wouldn’t have any of it.  And so he takes Jesus aside to rebuke him.  But Jesus won’t have any of that.  Anything that turns him or us away from the cross is of the devil.  And Jesus minces no words saying so.

 

Peter’s words are the very words of Satan, the accuser.  He who had just received and made the good confession, not by flesh and blood, but by the Father in Heaven, now makes the very bad confession, having in mind the things of man, not the things of God.  How quickly and easily we can pray with the same lips that curse, and confess truth with the same mouth that slanders.  Lord have mercy!

 

But Jesus will not be deterred from his cross.  He will not shrink from its suffering.  He will not turn aside from its shame.  He will bear the crown of thorns.  He will suffer the mocking and spitting.  He will be pierced for our transgressions and crushed for our iniquities.  Our punishment and chastisement will be on him.  For with his stripes, we are healed.  Thanks be to God.

 

But this doesn’t mean that Christians won’t suffer.  With his very next words, Jesus moves from his cross, to ours, from his suffering, to ours.  Christ taking our place on the cross doesn’t free us from cross-bearing.  It absolves us of sin.  It frees us from death.  It makes us heirs of all the blessings of God.  But there still remain our own crosses in this life.  And we must carry them.

 

“Take up your cross and follow me,” he says.  Here are no easy words, dear Christian.  They may take a whole lifetime to learn.  The way of the cross is so counter-intuitive to the wisdom of the world.  The mind of man is to avoid suffering at all costs.  The mind of Christ is to endure suffering for us.  And the mind of the Christian is to endure suffering patiently, for the sake of Christ, and in the hope of the resurrection to life everlasting.

 

The way of following Christ runs counter to all human wisdom and reason.  Save your own life, you will lose it.  Lose your life for Christ, and you will find it.  In other words, don’t be your own savior, for you will fail.  Look to Christ to save your soul, for he cannot fail. 

 

For Jesus, the cross was not the end of the story.  So, too, for us.  We follow him.  That is to say, where he goes, we also will go.  He suffered unto death, but death could not hold him.  He rose to life, to a glorified body, never to die again.  You who are in Christ, who following him bearing your own cross, will also suffer, and unless he comes back first, you will die.  But that’s not the end of your story.  You will follow him to resurrection.  You will follow him to the heavenly Jerusalem.  On the last day, he will raise your body, sown in shame but raised to glory.  The perishable will put on the imperishable.  The mortal will give way to immortality.

 

Each will be repaid according to their deeds, Jesus says.  But he’s not talking works-righteousness.  He’s the savior, after all.  And he has paid for your evil deeds at the cross.  All that is left for you is his own righteousness.  But he will avenge the wicked and set everything right at the last.  Yes, we follow him now, and carry our crosses for a time.  But that time is short, not worth comparing to the glory to be revealed in us.

 

So who is Jesus?  The son of the living God, but also the one who suffers, dies, and rises again.  He is Jesus of the cross.  And we follow him at his call, carrying our own crosses, whatever they may be, in the hope of his return and our own resurrection to glory.  Think not of the earthly glories, the things of man, but look forward in faith to that day, and the life of the world to come.