Sermon - Pentecost 5 - Mark 4:35-41

Often the Gospels show us the parables of Jesus.  Stories that Jesus tells to make a point.  They are fictitious, or at least, they are made up to make a point, usually about how things are in the kingdom of God.

But then we have the miracles and works of Jesus.  These really happened.  They are not made up earthly stories with a heavenly meaning.  They are true stories from the life of Jesus.  And yet they also bring us a heavenly meaning, or application.  As we get to know our Lord Jesus better, and see who he is and what he does for those people, we learn more deeply who he is and what he does for us.

And it’s no different here, with this miracle, the calming of the storm.

It all starts at night on the sea of Galilee. A small sea, a lake, really, surrounded by mountains.  Many of Jesus’ disciples were well familiar with it.  This was where they were fishermen.  This was where their father boated and fished.  Perhaps for many generations, they were well-familiar with these waters.

But something unusual happens.  A storm comes, without much warning, and it’s a doozie.  It’s so bad that the boat is being swamped and threatening to sink.  It’s so bad that these seasoned men of the sea start squealing like frightened children, “We’re all gonna die!”

And perhaps also unusual, but surely quite purposely, Jesus is there – but sleeping.  Taking a nap in the back of the boat.  Snoozing away.  The wind and wave didn’t even wake him.  The water filling up the boat didn’t interrupt his naptime.  But the disciples go to him, in terror, wake him up, and cry out, “don’t you care that we are perishing!?”

Jesus unceremoniously answers their frantic prayer.  He simply gets up, and rebukes the wind and wave.  “Quiet.  Be still.”  And so it is.

Just as suddenly as the storm begins, it stops, and all is quiet and still.  Actually, if you look at the grammar of the Greek it indicates that the storm came quickly, but it was still a process.  When Jesus calmed the storm it happened all at once, a completed action.  You might imagine that a storm that dies down naturally would still see the waves churning for some time.  But here, in response to the command of Jesus, all is still, and right away.  Wind and weave obey him immediately.

I think one reason this story is so beloved by Christians is because the application is so straightforward.  We all have storms in our lives of one form or another.  We are all terrified of this or that, and rather than trust the Lord who is in the very boat with us – we turn to fear.

The truth is, we are perishing.  Those disciples were right.  Without Jesus’ help they well nigh might have drowned.  They knew enough about storms and boats and wind and wave to know what trouble they were in.  They were right in their assessment.

We, too, are perishing.  We don’t always feel it, or realize it.  But every now and again life throws us a storm that reminds us.  This world is passing away, and we with it.  We may not drown in the lake, or die in a storm (though, indeed, we may!).  It might be a diagnosis that stops you in your tracks – your own, or that of a loved one.  It might be a job loss or a broken marriage.  It might be a conflict or controversy or some sort or another.  Life is full of troubles, and all of it reminds us of the brokenness that comes from sin, and the wages of sin that is death.

The disciples were right about that.  They were perishing.  So are we.  But they were wrong to fear.  Jesus gently chides them, “Have you no faith?”  Even if they had drowned and died that night, they still had nothing to fear, for they were with Jesus.  Not just in the boat, but in his grace.  They lived, like we live, by his promises. 

It brings to mind the three men who were thrown into the fiery furnace in the book of Daniel.  They had this interesting conversation with the king right before he tried to cook their goose:

(the king said) “But if you do not worship (the image I have made), you shall immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace. And who is the god who will deliver you out of my hands?”

16 Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego answered and said to the king, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. 17 If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. 18 But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.”

Whether God saved them from this present trouble, or even from fiery death – their faith stood strong.  They did not fear.  They didn’t take it as a sign of God’s weakness or indifference.  They knew that in the end, in the end, their salvation was sure.  And we can take a note from that book.

The disciples feared their fate, and we are often fearful of our storms.  But give them this much – they knew where to go for help.  They knew it had to be Jesus.

Jesus was already with them – though sleeping.  And here is a healthy reminder for us.  When the wind kicks up and the sky darkens and things start to get serious and scary, when life’s troubles rain down and suffering squalls blow and the waves of death lap against your boat.  Jesus is already there.

And you’ve already drowned, with him, in baptism.  You’ve been crucified with him, buried with him, in that watery grave.  Only for him to draw you up again and again from those waters, a new man, daily emerging to live in faith toward him and love for your neighbor. Christ has been crucified for you!  And that’s enough to calm your fears in any storm.  Go to the cross.  Go to Jesus.

Jesus is there, with us, in every storm.  And look, he’s not worried.  He’s never more than a prayer away – though it may be a frantic prayer at times.  He always hears.  He always answers.  He always helps, but in his time, in his way.  He may not snap his fingers and chase away all your troubles right away.  You may have to ride out this or that storm with him. But we know that in the end there is perfect peace for us.  We know that in the end, and forever we will be with him.  And no storm, no sword, no earthquake, no fire, no powers of this world of any world can finally harm us.  Because we have Jesus and his powerful word.

That word that he commands to the wind and wave – peace, be still – is the word that also calms and stills us.  That powerful word that commands the forces of nature, will one day call forth the faithful dead in Christ to life again.  And that loving word of comfort will invite you and all his people to enter into your rest.  There around the throne of God, and the great, calm, glassy sea, we will never have another fear, or hurt or pain.  It’ll be clear sailing for eternity.

So fear not the storms, Christian.  Remember Jesus is in the boat with you.  And call on him in every trouble.  Pray, praise and give thanks.  Be at peace, and be still.

Sermon - Pentecost 4 - Mark 4:26-34

 

Most of us, if we are honest, would admit that we are just sort of fumbling through life.  We do our best to keep up appearances.  That we have our act together.  That we are in control of our lives.  That we are decent and reliable and competent.  But the truth is we’re nowhere near as together as we project to other people.  If they knew our inner thoughts and struggles, we’d probably all be quite embarrassed.

One expression of this is what some people call, “impostor syndrome.”  That’s when you are hired for a certain job, or fill a certain role, and you secretly feel entirely unqualified to do it.  Sooner or later, you figure, people will discover that you’re a fraud, an impostor, and that you have no business doing whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing.

I bring this up because Jesus makes a very interesting point in his first parable today, sometimes called the “Parable of the Growing Seed.”  You might say that the farmer in the story has to admit that he doesn’t know what he’s doing.  Maybe he, too, would have “impostor syndrome.”

The story is fairly simple, as it follows the process of a seed that is sown, sprouts, grows, produces fruit, and finally is harvested.  We’ve all seen this process in the plant world from a very early age, when in Kindergarten we grew a bean sprout in a wet paper towel. 

But Jesus’ parables always have some kind of twist or surprise.  And here we may have to look a little closer to see it.  The farmer who planted this seed, who will eventually reap the harvest, he really has very little to do with the process after all.  He scatters the seed, and then simply goes about his regular business.  He sleeps.  He rises.  We might imagine he does his daily chores, reads the newspaper, goes to the store, and does whatever farmers do while their crops are growing.

But that’s just it, he’s not really doing anything to make those seeds grow.  He’s not out there with UV lamps, fine tuning them with just the right amount of energy.  He’s not the seed whisperer, talking to his plants in just the right way to coax the growth.  He certainly has no DNA expertise to bring to bear.  He just does his own thing, gets on with his life, and the seeds grow.  Jesus says, “He knows not how.”  What an understatement.

It is God who has this all worked out.  It is God who gives the growth.  Who designed the seed.  Who built the universe with its chemical interactions and laws of physics.  Who established photosynthesis so that this tiny plant can convert the energy of the sun into food for you and me.  Who makes seeds, which appear dead, to spring to life when the conditions are just right.  And of course, he set the weather in motion, with its seasons, and goldilocks temperatures and exactly the right atmosphere, and who gives soil for the plant to grow in, and a whole ecosystem to keep that soil full of nutrients.  To say, “the seed grows, and he knows not how” is really a remarkable statement. 

Such is the kingdom of God.

You and I tend to think we know what the church needs to thrive.  We act as if we are the experts who should be dolling out the prescription – and trust me, no one is more susceptible to this than us pastors.  If the church would only… knock on doors… then we would grow.  If we would only… reach out into the community.  If we would only… have the right youth program.  If we could just, each person, invite a friend to church.  If only the sermons were a little longer, or a little shorter, or had a few more jokes.  If only the music was a little faster, or a little louder.  If only people would love each other more and sin less.  THEN we would see the growth.  THEN our pews and our offering plates would be full.  THEN droves of sinners would come to faith in Jesus Christ and be saved.  And maybe then we could all feel quite pleased with ourselves, too.

But that’s not how it goes, is it?  The church can do all the right things and still not see the growth we desire.  And the church can do many wrong things, and God can still bless her.  Furthermore, the danger of measuring, is that we may measure the wrong things.  We may say, “oh, look how many people”, but there may be little fruit, and little root, though the branches are green and the stalks are tall.  Quantity doesn’t mean quality. 

All this is to say, that whether we speak of the church as a whole or as the individual Christian, the principle is the same:  God gives the growth.  And we know not how.  We can claim credit, in our arrogance.  We can claim understanding, in our ignorance.  But God alone grows his church, and God alone gives repentance unto faith.

Now, the farmer faithfully planted the seed.  And the church and its pastors must faithfully preach the Word.  This we are called to do, and given to do.  But we let God handle the results.  We let God do his job, and we do ours.  We love him and our neighbor in the vocations to which he has called us, as faithfully as we can, and rely on his grace when and where we fail.  It’s that simple.  Like the farmer who goes about his business, trusting that nature will take its course.  So we go about our business, trusting that Christ will build his church.

The second parable is that of the mustard seed.  And it has a similar point.  The principle is this:  The kingdom may start small, but it grows in surprising ways.  Just as one of the smallest seeds leads to one of the largest bushes, and even has room for birds to make their nests in its branches.  So, too, does the humble Word of God have great power in its effects.

The simple words of baptism prove to be a life-long comfort sure.  The straightforward promise of Jesus, that his body and blood are given and shed for you, and that for the forgiveness of your sins.  And the absolution of a pastor – your sins are forgiven – and they are!  And heaven itself is opened to you! 

Or the small beginnings of the church, and of our faith, on a dark Friday, in a backwater province, on a hill outside the city, where a humble man was crucified with a couple of criminals.  No fanfare.  No angelic choir.  Just an innocent man, forsaken by God, dying in agony.  And yet from this seed, planted on Calvary, and from his death and burial, life burst forth on the third day.  And life has been abundant in him ever since. 

We all come to roost and nest in the branches of his tree (the cross).  We all find our shelter in his church.  In surprising and wonderful ways, we know not how, but God provides for us individually, and together, as a congregation names Messiah, and as the holy Christian Church writ large. 

Such is the kingdom of God.  Such is the mystery of God’s ways.  We know not how.  We’re the impostors, but he’s the expert, the designer, and the giver of all good things.  We know not how he does it all, but we know him who does it, and does it all for us, and he is faithful, even Jesus Christ our Lord.  That’s how his kingdom is.  Therefore continue to trust in him.

Sermon - Pentecost 3 - Mark 3:20-35

Lunatic, Liar, or Lord?

One of the chief questions the Gospels address, and which Christians (and, really, all people) must answer is:  Who is Jesus?

And depending on how one answers that question, we can either find today’s Gospel reading terrifying or comforting.  We can either see in it the promise of forgiveness, and victory over our great enemy… or else we find ourselves outside of forgiveness, and forever captive to the evil one.

Jesus’ brothers and his own mother were there saying he was a lunatic.  He’s out of his mind.  He should be home acting respectable, taking up the family business like his father, the carpenter.  Not out here traipsing all over the towns and villages preaching and gathering this goofy band of followers.  He’s embarrassing himself, and us!  Let’s go talk some sense into him.  Let’s bring him home.

But then you have Jesus’ enemies, the teachers of the law.  They had made the 6 day journey from Jerusalem to see what all this fuss was about with Jesus.  And they had their own opinion.  He’s got a demon.  And he’s casting out demons by the power of the devil.  The use the name “Beelzebul”, that is, “Father of lies”, which the devil surely is.  And they spread this lie of their own to anyone who would listen.

Of course today, people have their answers, too.  

For many, Jesus isn’t a lunatic or a liar, he’s just not worth thinking about much at all.  If they do think of Jesus, they have a very shallow idea of him.  A nice guy.  A big smile.  Someone who loves everyone, and never says anything too difficult or challenging.  A Jesus who will pretty much leave me alone to do what I want, and maybe will be there if I really get in a pinch and need a favor.  But that’s not the Jesus of the Gospels, who preaches the kingdom with powerful law, and comforting gospel, the Jesus who fulfills all righteousness and lays down his life for his friends.  

Or, a Jesus who is a moral model, a lawgiver to follow by example.  But then you also have to contend with the fact that we don’t follow even the easiest examples of loving our neighbor, let alone dying for them.

Maybe even we get Jesus wrong from time to time.  Maybe we make him in our own image, a Jesus who fits our ideas, our desires, our emotional needs or our intellectual conceptions.  But let’s do away with any other Jesus that the real Jesus.  The one who is Lord.

Jesus answers his enemies first.  And he does so gently.  He calls them and offers them a refutation.  He shows the flaw in their argument.  How can Satan cast out Satan?  That doesn’t make any sense.  He wouldn’t fight against himself.  His kingdom would fall.  His house wouldn’t stand.  No, the power Jesus brings against is power over and against Satan.  And he makes a beautiful comparison.

No one can break into a strong man’s house and plunder his goods until he has first overcome the strong man, tied him up.  And Jesus has done just that.

Satan is the strong man.  Not to be trifled with, the devil is a fierce enemy, an old evil foe who seeks to work us woe.  He has deep guile and great might.  He’s too much for any human to stand up to.  He’s been leading us into temptation since the first days in the garden.  And he never lets up.  He is, as Jesus says, very strong.

But Jesus is stronger.  

Jesus overcomes the power of the devil time and time again.  He casts out demons with his authoritative word.  

He defeats the Devil’s temptations in the wilderness, not once, not twice, but three times.  Three strikes and you’re out, devil.  

But best of all, Jesus defeats the Serpent by crushing his head at the cross  – completely stripping him of all his power to accuse, emptying death of its sting, and the law of its terror for us.  By dying, Jesus wins.  Checkmate.  And the strong man, the devil, comes undone.  

What a way to overpower your enemy, but in weakness, shame, and bitter death!  What a way to save the lives of all but by losing his own life for us.

Of course, Jesus could not be bound by death’s strong bands, and Satan’s supposed victory over Christ at the cross turned out to be quite the opposite.  Death could not hold the stronger man, either.  Jesus burst the bonds of death and rose victorious.  Death has no power over him, and he will never die again.  God has given him all authority and will put all enemies under his feet, that includes you, Satan.

Which brings us to the third element of this mini-parable, the plunder.  The goods.  The stuff that belonged to the strong man, but has been robbed by the stronger man.  That’s you and me.  Jesus steals and snatches us away from the devil’s foul grasp, but no one can snatch us out of his hand.  Jesus frees us from the slavery to sin, and never can it weigh us down again.  Jesus crushes the devil’s hopes and dreams of our eternal anguish at his side.  It’s not to be.  We belong to Christ now.  The Devil is the eternal loser.

Now.  Jesus comments on two kinds of blasphemy.  The blasphemy against him, and the blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.  Let’s take each of these in turn.

“Truly I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter.”  Since blasphemy is a sin, particularly making a mockery of God, Jesus means that even sins against him, as God, will be forgiven.  This is a great comfort to us all.  But what about that other kind?

Blasphemy against the Holy Spirit!  We often call this the “unforgivable sin”, and we are wise to hear his warning about it.  “whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin.”  This is a terrifying suggestion!  And pastors have often heard dear Christians who are afraid they may have, or might someday commit this unforgivable sin.  But listen to how one of our Lutheran dogmaticians explains it:

"The sin against the Holy Ghost is committed when, after the Holy Ghost has convinced a person in his heart of the divine truth, that person nevertheless not only rejects the truth he is convinced of, but also blasphemes it. Hollaz thus describes this sin: “The sin against the Holy Ghost is the malicious denial of the divine truth which a person has clearly understood and approved in his conscience, a hostile assault on it, horrible blaspheming, and an obstinate rejection of all the means of grace, which lasts to the end.” (Examen, “De Pecc. Act.,” qu. 38.)64 The sin against the Holy Ghost is committed not against the person, but against the office of the Holy Ghost; it is the willful and determined suppression of the inner conviction wrought by the Holy Ghost." 

Francis Pieper, Christian Dogmatics, 1, 571ff

In other words, friends, if you are worried that you’ve committed the unforgivable sin, that is evidence you haven’t.  If you fear you can’t be forgiven, that shows that you’re not too far gone.  Only those who despise Christ’s forgiveness and the Spirit’s work, and do it stubbornly to the end, will not be forgiven.  Or in yet other words, the only unforgivable sin is despising Christ’s forgiveness.  You can’t have his forgiveness if you reject his forgiveness.

We tie up this reading with Jesus’ statement that anyone who hears him, receives him, and does the will of the Father, that is, believes in him, is his true family.  He doesn’t deny Mary and his brothers, even though they called him insane.  But he shows that faith and forgiveness transcend even the blood ties of family.  The freedom from the strong man that we have in his name, as he plunders us from Satan and makes us his true treasured possession. And as all sins, even our blasphemies, are forgiven us in his name.  That’s how strong he is.  Not a lunatic, nor a liar, but our Lord, our savior Jesus Christ.  Thanks be to God in his name.  Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 2 - Mark 2:23-38

 

The Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath

This is the concluding summary, the main point Jesus makes in our Gospel reading today.  He, himself, is Lord of the Sabbath.

The Sabbath Day, of course, is the day of rest.  God set the pattern, after 6 days of doing all the work of creation, he rested on the 7^th.  He thus set aside the Sabbath Day as holy, and later in the Mosaic law, clearly taught the people that this day is to be kept holy also by them as a day of rest.  We all know it as the 3^rd Commandment.

But leave it to man to take a good gift of God and get it all fouled up.  Rather than seeing the Sabbath as a gift, a blessing, a time to be refreshed not only by physical rest but also by gathering to hear God’s word… the ancient Jews had loaded it down with legalism, prescribing all sorts of strictures on just what could and couldn’t be done on the Sabbath. 

Modern Jews have done the same – Rabbinical literature speaks of thirty-nine archetypal categories of labor prohibited on Shabbat:

The Mishnah lists them as follows:

sowing, plowing, reaping, binding (of sheaves), threshing, winnowing, separating fit from unfit crops, grinding, sifting, kneading, baking, shearing wool, washing it, beating it, dyeing it, spinning it, weaving it, making two loops, weaving two threads, separating two threads, tying, untying, sewing two stitches, tearing in order to sew two stitches, trapping a deer, slaughtering it, flaying its skin, salting its flesh, curing its hide, scraping its hide, cutting it up, writing two letters, erasing two letters in order to write two letters, building, tearing down, extinguishing a flame, kindling a flame, beating with a hammer, and moving from one domain to another.

All of these man-made extensions of a divine law, that really missed the point.

To Jesus’ opponents, it was as if man was made for the Sabbath.  That we were created to follow these laws as if servants or slaves to the law.  But just the opposite is true.  The Sabbath was made for man.  It’s one of the ten commandments, sure.  But even the commandments are made for man, not as oppressive taskmasters, but as an expression of God’s will for our good.

If you have no other gods but the true God, you will be blessed.  If you hallow God’s name, keep the Sabbath, honor your parents and refrain from murder, adultery, theft, gossip and coveting – you will be blessed.  Just as good parents give rules and guidelines to their children – not arbitrarily, but for their good – so does our loving Father establish his law with us, for our good.

Luther, in the Small Catechism, rightly interprets the 3^rd commandment for us – it’s not about a certain day and avoiding work.  It’s about hearing God’s word!

What does this mean?  We should fear and love God so that we do not despise preaching and his word, but hold it sacred, gladly hear and learn it.

The problem, of course, is that we don’t keep the law.  We profane the Sabbath day, and we despise preaching and his word.  We act as if the outward act of coming to church earns us some divine brownie points, or at least proves that we are good people.  Sometimes we think of church as an obligation, rather than a joy.  We say, “I have to go to church” not, “I get to go to church.”  We’re not all that different at times from the Jews who had twisted the Sabbath all around. 

Jesus uses an Old Testament story to debunk their legalistic approach.  Even King David “broke the Sabbath” by your reckoning.  He did far worse than you see my disciples doing.  He and his men took the bread from the Holy Place, in the Tabernacle.  The bread that was only for the priests! 

No, one might say that the disciples were doing exactly what the Sabbath was meant for.  They were with Jesus.  They were being fed by Jesus, the Bread of Life. 

The Lord of the Sabbath sets the parameters of the Sabbath.  And while he did command his people to observe it as a holy day in the Old Covenant, it’s clear that already in the early church the Christians began worshipping, not on Saturday, but on Sunday.  This they called, “The Lord’s Day”.  Sunday, the day of resurrection.  Sunday, the day in which Christ’s Sabbath rest in the tomb was done, and he rose to bring life and immortality to life for us all.  Ever since the church has been worshipping on Sundays – not as a law – but in honor and remembrance of the resurrection.

Christ is Lord of the Sabbath.  Christ, in a way, even is our Sabbath rest.  He gives us rest from all our work of trying to please God, as if we could, by our own righteousness.  Rest.  Be at peace.  He’s done it all for you.  He offers that rest freely, as he says in Matthew 11, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”  His yoke is easy.  His burden is light.  Faith looks to Jesus to do the heavy lifting, and he shoulders the burden well for us all.  He carries his cross, endures it, dies upon it, and by that death brings us true and lasting comfort, hope, peace, and rest.

In Christ, we rest in peace, even in the grave.  Paul often speaks of the Christian’s death as a sleep.  A slumber from which we will rise when the dead in Christ rise to meet him on the last day.  One of our hymns puts it this way:

Teach me to live, that I may dread                                                                

the grave as little as my bed.                                                              

Teach me to die, that so I may                                                              

rise glorious at the judgment day.

Now, of course, we do need regular, physical rest.  It’s part of the design of God’s creation.  We need times of sleep, times of refreshment, even a vacation, times to take a break between all the busy-ness of this fevered life.  And we sin even when it comes to such rest, don’t we?  Falling off on one side or the other – either sinful laziness, which wants to work little and rest too much, or else sinful neglect of rest, in which we work and work to the neglect of family, of downtime, and of balance in our lives. 

But thanks be to God for the forgiveness we have in Christ, for this, and for every other sin.  Thanks be to God he’s not playing “gotcha” with our sins, for we all would have been gotten long ago.  Rather, he delights to give us sabbath rest in the person of his Son, our Lord Jesus Christ – the Lord of the Sabbath.

God gives us daily bread, and yet man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.  He gives us fathers, and yet he is our heavenly Father.  So also he gives us rest – times of refreshment for the body – and even more, for the soul.  The blessings of our Lord Jesus Christ who came with good gifts for poor sinners, who has done the work of salvation for us, and who gives us perfect, lasting, peaceful rest in him.

In Jesus’ Name.