Sermon - Last Sunday after Pentecost - Mark 13:24-37

Last Sunday After Pentecost, November 25^th 2012

Christ Lutheran, St. Paul, NE and St. John's Lutheran, Palmer, NE

Mark 13:24-37
“Temporary and Forever”

Introductions, etc...

These few weeks of the church calendar we're focusing especially on the end times. The last couple of Sundays in the church year seem a fitting time to do so. And the Season of Advent, just around the corner, is a time not only to remember Christ's first coming, but also to anticipate his second coming.

There are many things we can say about the end times. That the Lord will return suddenly, like a thief in the night. That he will judge the living and the dead. That God's people, forgiven and righteous, sealed in our baptism – should look forward to, and not dread that day. It is our day of final victory in Christ, in which all his promises of eternity come to fruition.

Today, let's focus on an emphasis we see in both our Old Testament reading from Isaiah, and in our Gospel reading from Mark. See if you can catch the common idea. Isaiah says:

“the heavens vanish like smoke,

the earth will wear out like a garment,

and they who dwell in it will die in like manner;

but my salvation will be forever,

and my righteousness will never be dismayed.”

And Jesus says in our Gospel reading:

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.”

There is a contrast, we see, between the temporal and the eternal. Between the earthly and the heavenly. Between the “here and now” and the “then and there”.

We are most familiar with the here and now. The world of our everyday life is the world corrupted by sin, in which things go wrong and chaos eventually wins. The temporal world is dying, just like our flesh is dying. Nothing in this world seems to last forever. It's why we value things like gold that DO seem to last forever, but even these will one day pass away.

But in our experience, what good lasts for very long? The youth and beauty you once enjoyed have now faded. The fresh flowers you buy your wife soon wither and smell. The brand new car you buy gets dinged in the parking lot. Moth and rust are the standard for this world of decay. Corruption. Chaos. Decay.

Who doesn't long for the good old days? Whenever they were, days long ago when things seemed better, simpler, more wholesome? With all these wars and rumors of wars, the world seems more and more dangerous. There's saber rattling in the middle east, threats to our safety from within and without, rising crime rates, news stories that shock more and more. And how many million unborn children are killed by their own mother's “free choice”?

And then there's your own record. Though all of us are conceived and born in sin, we can look back over our lifetime and the sins we've accumulated, too many to count. And the older you are, the longer you've had to go around sinning. Imagine the length of the rap sheet if every wrong you ever committed was read aloud. And it doesn't get better, only worse. For eventually the wages of sin come due, and the grave collects its debt.

Such is life in this world, where things wear out like a garment, and those who dwell here die in like manner. Such is life in this temporal, fading, corrupted world, where heaven and earth will pass away, and sinners like you and me will pass away. But....

Then there is the salvation of God which lasts forever. Then there is the righteousness of God which will never be dismayed. Then there are the words of Christ which will never pass away.

And what a thought – that words, of all things, could last forever. This is outside of our experience, where a word is spoken and quickly forgotten. Where promises are made to be broken. But not with Jesus Christ. His words matter, they have power, and they last forever. His promises endure.

His words stand in contrast to the world of temporal chaos in which we live. For all the death we see, he speaks words of life. For all the decay and decline, he speaks renewal and righteousness. When we look at our own works, our own merit, our own record before God and man, we can only say, “I am finished”. But the Christ who dies on the cross in our place declares once for all time, “It is finished”.

In Christ, your salvation is accomplished. In Christ, your righteousness will never be dismayed. His promises stand forever.

“He who believes and is baptized will be saved”

“I am with you always even to the end of the age”

“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”

“In my Father's house are many rooms...And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.”

And all of these words which will never pass away, are not only for some other sinner, who's list of sins is shorter than yours. These words are for you. These promises are for you. For you, dear Christian, are one of his. You who have been baptized have had the name of God, the promise of God, placed upon you by water and the word – and you are sealed for eternity with a blessing that will also never pass away. He will not forsake his own, and you, in baptism are his own. You belong to God, in Christ, forever.

That long list of sins from this temporal age, they are gone forever, dealt with at the cross, forgiven at the font, and at the rail, and in the word which stands forever.

So now, stay awake and watchful for his coming – not in fear, but in hope. See the signs of the times not in despair, but in anticipation, that the one whose word stands forever will bring salvation that lasts just as long. Whenever he comes, today, tomorrow, or in a thousand years – our salvation is sure, and our righteousness secure. In Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Sermon - Mark 13:1-13 - Pentecost 25

Pentecost 25, November 18^th, 2012

St. Peter's Lutheran Church, Waterford, WI

Mark 13-1-13
“It Gets Better...”

Introductions, etc...

Tell me if you've had this experience. Someone tells you a story – maybe a funny story – about what happened to them. They describe in detail how it all unfolds, and how a series of unfortunate events just keep on coming, one thing after another. And just when you think the story is over, they say, “wait... it gets better”. Usually that means, wait, it gets worse. And that may happen several times in the story... “Wait... it gets better”

Today's Gospel reading is kind of like that. Jesus is with his disciples in Jerusalem, and they gawk like tourists at the impressive architecture of the Temple. And surely it was one of the most massive and imposing human achievements they would have encountered. I think of my family's recent trip to the top of the Empire State Building in New York. My children looked down with glee to all the people who looked like little ants down there. It was really worth the trip. These disciples of Jesus are similarly impressed with Herod's renovations of this second temple which were in full swing. But Jesus wasn't so taken in.

“You see these great buildings? Not one stone will be left upon another here, they'll all be thrown down”. What a killjoy Jesus seems to be. But our Lord knew what was coming. For in 70 AD, just a generation or so away, the city of Jerusalem would be destroyed by the Roman armies, who finally had enough of Jewish rebellions. They would destroy the city and bring down that massive temple. And it would never be built again. To this day, it's been everything from a pile of rubble, to a garbage heap, to now – a shrine to a false god. But no temple. And Jesus saw it coming. But it gets better....

His disciples take him aside, wanting to know more – dates and times and when and how all this will happen. Morbid curiosity? Self preservation? Who knows their motivations, but Jesus tells them what they needed to hear, even if it wasn't what they wanted to hear:

It gets better. Not only will the temple go down, but there will be all these false teachers pretending to be the Christ. Watch out! Don't listen to them! Don't fall for it! Thanks for the warning, Jesus. But wait. It gets better....

Then you will hear of wars and rumors of wars. You think there's a time of peace, but no. Fighting will continue, both far and near. But it gets better... earthquakes... famines... but this isn't the end, either. It gets better. It's like a woman going into labor, which, I am told, is quite painful. But each contraction, each step in the process, gets worse and worse...

Be on guard! Watch out... for it gets better.... these things I tell you about aren't just for some other people out there. These things will happen to you, too! They'll drag you before councils, beat you in synagogues, and you'll stand before governors and kings and have to testify. You'll be delivered over to judgment, even to death, he basically tells them. And was it ever true. We know from the church fathers and early Christian history that the apostles were all to meet a martyr's death, with one exception, John. And John was exiled to a prison island. Even families will be torn apart in these troubled times, giving each other over to death. Jesus doesn't sugar coat the future for his disciples. Nor would he for you, either.

You, Christian, will not have an easy row to hoe, either. Jesus promises that followers of his will have crosses to bear. He calls us to repentance. He doesn't preach a prosperity Gospel of wealth and riches to the true believers, but instead says blessed are the meek, the lowly, the poor in spirit. He doesn't promise a rose garden, an easy street, a plush and comfy life free of hassle. The world hates us, because it hated him. Christians, even we, the children of God in Christ, will suffer, get sick, be persecuted, and eventually die. We are sinners, after all, and we've earned our wages of death. And we live in a world that is broken, troubled, laboring. But there is an end. And in the end, it gets better. And now, I mean better, not worse.

Jesus says to his disciples in John 16, “In this world, you will have troubles. But fear not, for I have overcome the world.” And in our reading, he concludes with this promise: “The one who endures to the end will be saved” Elsewhere Jesus promises mansions in heaven. That God will wipe every tear from our eyes. We read old testament promises that the righteous will shine like stars forever. We have hope for that day, that glorious day when he returns. Scripture tells us precious little about the glories our heaven and eternity. But what it tells us is precious. And yet... it gets better.

The comfort of God in Jesus Christ is not only for that future day, it is present, even now.

We have our baptism! We have the sign and seal of God's grace upon us in a washing of rebirth and renewal. We belong to him. Our life as his child has already begun, at the font, and it will last forever. When guilt and shame burden you, remember your baptism. When it feels like God has abandoned you, remember your baptism. When you wonder and doubt if you, such a sinner, can even be saved, remember your baptism. But it gets better...

We have his body and blood! Yes, he does not leave us to starve in this wilderness as we wander, but sustains us with his real presence, continually nourishing us with what we need the most – himself – and the forgiveness, life and salvation he delivers. Here we confess our unity with God and one another. Here we are strengthened in body and soul for days of our journey. But it gets better....

We have his word. A precious gospel, which encourages and equips us in this labored world. A hope and promise which points us forward to better days, because it always brings us back to that dark Friday where our sins were crucified with Christ. The cross, the open tomb of the resurrected Christ, and the promise of his return to judge the living and the dead and bring us to his kingdom which will not end.

This Gospel must be preached to the ends of the earth. It began with the disciples. It continued throughout the ages. Before kings and rulers, in the face of persecution and martyrdom. The Holy Spirit, working through the Gospel, giving men words to speak, words that point to Christ crucified for sinners, words that create faith and bring hope. The same Gospel preached by those apostles is the Gospel that rings out from this pulpit, here in Waterford. It's the same Gospel of Jesus Christ to be preached around the world, and even in Singapore. It is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, in whom all things truly get better, for he makes all things new. In him, there is an end... an end to all labors and troubles. In him, there is a hope and promise, even when the foundations of your world are shaken, when the walls come crumbling down. For he is with us now, even to the end of the age, with us through all the troubles, holding out our only hope. And we will be with him forever, for he will come again on that great and glorious day. Remember that day, when your days seem dark. Remember his promise always, and know that in Jesus Christ, it gets better. Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 24 - Mark 12:38-44

Pentecost 24, November 11^th, 2012

St. John's Lutheran Church, North Prairie, WI

Mark 12:38-44
“What's With this Widow?”

Introductions, etc...

What's with this widow? Jesus watches the scene unfold, with the various people making their offerings in the temple. Clang, clang, clang, go the coins – no paper money – and when the rich put theirs in the box it probably sounds like a slot machine dumping out a jackpot. Quite a show, perhaps. Really, very impressive. But not to Jesus. He is far more impressed with one poor widow who contributes two small coins – an extremely small sum – but out of her poverty, she gave all she had.

So is the lesson here simply one of proportional giving? That Jesus wants us to give everything we have, too? That the takeaway from today is go home, empty your bank account and put it in next sunday's envelope for St. John's, or better yet, mark it for support of a missionary to Singapore? What's Jesus getting at here?

Take the scribes, about whom Jesus warned his disciples. Oh they're very impressive, those people – they walk around in long robes, with all the pomp and pageantry. They always have the best seat in the house. But there's a dirty secret. Part of their wealth is ill-gotten gain. Maybe technically legal, but at great cost to the poor, the helpless, the widow. And all the while pretending to be faithful and pure, saying long prayers, and donating large sums into the temple treasury. Beware of them. Don't be like them. Don't think they're the example.

There are some warnings for us here, too. Against greed. Against pretense. Against taking advantage of others, and against making a show of our giving. We should not think highly of ourselves for giving 5 or 7 or 10% or more... Nor should we necessarily think more of the big givers in the congregation. Jesus isn't impressed by all that.

For over there is a poor widow, who puts us all to shame. Not with the amount of her offering, or even with its proportion, but that her offering is made in faith. And here is the key.

Just a few weeks ago, we heard Jesus say something similar to a rich young man who thought he had it all together, well mostly. But Jesus said you lack one thing. Go sell all your stuff, and give it to the poor. And the man went away sad because he had great wealth. He went away, it seems, because his real God was his money, and he wasn't willing to repent and believe. It isn't that Jesus is against people having stuff. But when that stuff gets in the way of them having him – of recognizing sin, of trusting in him for forgiveness, life, and salvation – if it's either stuff or Jesus, then the stuff has to go.

Once again Jesus turns the usual expectations upside down and inside out. You think that when it comes to giving, more is better. But Jesus is about quality, not quantity. You think that wealth is a sign of God's favor, but Jesus says blessed are the poor in spirit. You think that lowly widows, poor and sad, are forgettable, but he remembers them, and commends their faith. You think that Jesus wants some, or maybe all of your money – but what he really wants is all of you, your heart, mind, soul.

But who can do it? Who can live up to this high standard of reliance on God? Who can give with pure motives, and not give thought to selfish gain? How many people today give because it feels good to help others – not simply out of love? What good work, of any kind can we do, that is not tainted or sullied by our sin, tinged with pride, or polluted by ulterior motives?

Only Jesus can give perfectly. Only Jesus can give completely. And does he ever. He gives what the world considered worth very little – his life. Our world cheapens life, too, both at beginning and end. But Jesus gives more than just a human life, however precious. He is the Holy One of God. He is without sin. And he is the only-begotten Son of God, by whom all things were made. His blood is worth more, is more precious than all the gold and silver in the world. And yet he gives up all, becomes a worm, dies a pariah, all... for you.

It is this good news that we have heard, this Gospel which calls us to faith. It is knowing him not just as God and Lord but as savior and friend – the one who loved us with the greatest love of all – it is this love that he first showed us, it is the giving he first gave for us, that moves us to love and serve and forgive and to give.

This widow – she wasn't at the Walmart answering the clang of the bell and filling the kettle to assuage her guilt. She wasn't in her comfy chair watching poor starving children on TV, and trying to do her part. She was in the temple – the house of God. And that means she heard God's word. She was where the sacrifices happened. Her faith trusted in God's promises, and her generous giving of all she had was a confession of her faith in the one who sustained her, and sustains you. She came to the temple to receive the true treasures that money can't buy. She came in faith and hope. Little did she know the fulfillment of all sacrifices and all her hopes had also come to the temple that day, that he took notice of her faithful giving, and commended her example to his disciples, and to us.

One wonders whether the poor widow came to know and believe in this Jesus of Nazareth who would soon be crucified, and rise from the dead. One wonders whether she came to see the fulfillment of all she hoped for, and trusted in.

But how blessed are we to have heard, and believed. How blessed are we when the Spirit of God works through his word, to call us to repentance and faith. And as that same Spirit moves us, cheers us on, to love and serve and give for the benefit of our neighbor and toward the expansion of Christ's kingdom. Whatever your gift, large or small, mighty or mite. Give it in faith and joy, knowing and trusting in the one who gave his all for you, and still gives for your blessing. In the same Jesus Christ, our Lord, amen.

Sermon - All Saints' Day - Revelation 7:2-17

Sermon- All Saints Day (observed), November 4^th, 2012

Bethlehem Lutheran Church, Carson City, NV

Revelation 7:2-17
“All Saints: Eschatology and Ecclesiology”

Introductions, etc...

All Saints Day – a favorite of mine – a day rich in theology. Here we find ecclesiology – that is, matters concerning God's church. We find Sacramentality – the oneness we share at the rail and font with all of God's people of all times. We find Christology, of course, Christ in all our doctrines. And we find Eschatology – the matters concerning the end of days. The judgment. The kingdom to come.

Watch and see, Christians, how once again many people will get all fouled up by a false eschatology. Wait for December 21^st of this year and the conclusion of the infamous Mayan calendar – to see how our media and culture will bombard us with end times speculation and fear. Why is it, that even those who don't read the Bible, go to church, or even call themselves Christians, seem to know and fear an imminent end? Perhaps it's the hard-wiring of God's law in our hearts, and a sense, however dulled, that all of us have sinned and deserve God's judgment. That when our day comes, or when the end of the world comes for all, either way we will stand before the throne and answer for our sins. Dull it, ignore it, harden your heart – but the law will stand forever and accuse the sinners who break it.

Thanks be to God for the grace and mercy he shows to us in Christ! We, the people of God, the children of God, the saints of God – will stand in the judgment. We will not stand on our own, but only in and through Christ – who has paid our price and forgiven our sins, and promised us mansions in heaven. We need not fear the end, rather, we pray with the saints of all ages, “come quickly, Lord Jesus”. For that final day is our day of victory, our day of triumph, our final hope.

Still, some Christians avoid the book of Revelation like the plague – or one of the plagues therein. Some find it hard, confusing or troubling. Scary images of demons and monsters, natural and supernatural disasters. And great suffering. Some are put off by its seemingly cryptic use of numbers, or strange imagery. And some, on the other hand, are overly fascinated with this last book of Scripture – and find ways to misread it, and misuse it.

But The Revelation of Jesus Christ to St. John is worthy of our study, or attention, and our hearing – in that in brings us some of the most powerful words of comfort – eternal comfort – in all of Holy Scripture. These words at the end of the book give us assurance that God already knows how it all ends – and that he is victorious – and that his people triumph with him. Not through great power and glory, but by the blood of the lamb.

And our reading this All Saints day fits the bill. It is a picture of a great multitude dressed in white robes. who have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. This is a picture of the church in final glory. This is a picture of our future. This is the destiny of the church.

Who are these people? That's the question John is asked by the elder. And we can expand on the answer a little.

Who are these people? They are people from every nation and tribe, people and language. They are white and hispanic, they are african and european and asian. They are from all times and places where the Holy Spirit has called sinners to faith by the Gospel. By missionaries and pastors, parents and teachers, friends who confess and witness and bring others to the throne of the Lamb.

Who are these people? They are wearing white robes – robes which have been washed. And boy did they need to be washed. Formerly, those robes were stained and soiled with sin. Robes needed to cover the nakedness and shame that began when their parents first sinned and hid in the garden. But no longer. Now, it's a robe of righteousness. Now it's the robe of baptism, of faith, a very putting on of Christ. They have washed their robes, not with bleach or detergent, but with the holy precious blood of Christ. Yes, Christ's blood is the only basis for our salvation. Though your sins were as scarlet, in Christ, they are white as snow.

Who are these people waving palm branches? They are evoking that first triumphal entry of the Messiah – on Palm Sunday. There the crowds waved their branches and sang, “Hosanna”, that is, “Save us now.” But on that day, the day of his final coming, the day of his ultimate triumphal entry, the Hosannas will come to fruition. He will come with his angels in glory to bring salvation full circle. To bring his people a resurrection like his, to make us like him, risen, glorified, reigning with him forever.

Who are these people singing? They sing in joy – like the saints of all ages. They sing to the Lamb who brings them salvation. They are all the company of heaven, in chorus of praise to our God. They are all the saints, and we join their song even today as we gather around God's word and receive Christ's body and blood.

• They are people of promises fulfilled, and just look at these promises:

• They are before the throne of God. They are not cast away from God's presence, but stand in his very throne room. They are not sent away in punishment, but enjoy the honor of his Holy presence.

• The serve day and night in his temple - They, all of them, serve as priests, for they have been made holy.

• God shelters them with his presence - nothing can harm them under his watchful care.

• They neither hunger nor thirst – the want for nothing, they lack nothing.

• The sun doesn't scorch them with heat – for here there is only comfort.

• The Lamb is their shepherd. The Lord is our shepherd, we shall not want. He guides them, he guides us, to springs of living water – the same water of grace and mercy that quenches the parched soul. The water that flows from his throne, from him...

• And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, yes, from our eyes. What an image. That God himself would wipe the tears from your eyes. Even today, he does so, then and there, he will do so fully.

One final thought for this all saints day – in a few moments we will observe a tradition that many others do on All Saints day – the tolling of bells or chimes for the departed Christians from our midst during the past year. As each name is read, we give thanks for the life of this child of God, this saint, lived among us. And as each name is read, we might picture them, decked in the white robe of righteousness, waving a palm branch of their own, and joining the great multitude of saints. For those loved ones of ours, who die in the faith, and for us, there is precious promise in Christ. Their future – our future is sure.

On this All Saints Day, rejoice that in Christ there is forgiveness, life, salvation. In Christ we live, and will live, forever, will all the saints. And that God will wipe every tear from their eyes, and from yours.

Sermon - Reformation Day (observed) - John 8:31-36

Sermon- Reformation Day (observed), October 28th, 2012

Our Savior Lutheran Church, Whitefish Bay, WI

John 8:31-36
“Truth and Freedom and Christ”

Introductions, etc...

A happy and blessed Reformation day to you all. Today, October 31st, marks the beginning of the great Reformation of the western Christian church. On this day, a monk named Martin Luther stirred up quite a debate with his 95 theses, posting them on a church door in Wittenberg, Germany. He wanted to debate the sale of indulgences – documents the church promised would forgive sins – but he ended up rediscovering the Gospel itself. And in the years that would follow, others who discovered this Good News about Jesus which had been obscured for so long – they would come to be known as Lutherans. There's more history to all this, of course, but those are the main points.

So today, many protestants and all Lutherans around the world mark and remember the Reformation. There's a danger here of course. We don't want to fall into the trap of triumphalism. One pastor puts it this way:

“Reformation Day is not simply a self-congratulatory, back-slapping day. It is not V-R Day. It is not "We got it right and everyone else is dumb" Day.
It is a day where we ought to be focused on one simple truth. Because the Church is full of sinners who will wish to twist and corrupt doctrine, who will want to turn away from the clear and pure Gospel and substitute things of their own devising, the Church is always, always in need of Reform.” (Rev. Eric Brown - “Confessional Gadfly”)

In short, the Reformation was and is still about the truth. Maybe that's why John 8 is our Gospel passage today, in which Jesus talks about the truth that sets us free.

We have sayings about the truth – that truth is stranger than fiction. That the truth hurts. That you can't handle the truth. But like Pilate, we might ask, “what is truth?”. Especially in today's post-modern context, anyone who claims to know the truth or have the truth is immediately suspect. You're narrow minded, or arrogant or uneducated or all of the above. Truth itself is under assault in our modern world of thought.

But our God is a God of truth. Jesus is the way, the truth, and the life. And Jesus himself teaches that the truth will set you free. That's another common saying, but many forget that it comes from the lips of Christ. But that begs another question. What truth is it, that's so important, that sets us free?

To the Jews who believed in him, Jesus spoke this strange saying about slavery and freedom. He wasn't talking about earthly slavery or temporal freedom. He was talking about slavery to sin.

It's a form of slavery we are all born into. There's nothing you can do to free yourself from it. Like bonds or shackles – sin is fastened tightly to you, corrupting your entire nature. Everything you do and say, even every thought you think is chained to sin. This is a hard truth – and a truth many people don't want to hear. Original sin, and the total depravity of man.

What makes it all the more insidious is that it's hard to see. But Jesus says even if you simply commit ONE sin, you are a slave to sin! Amazing! We like to convince ourselves that we don't sin that much. Ah, maybe a little. Maybe we are “sinning under the influence” but we're not hard-core, full-bore sinners. We just have a little problem, not an addiction. It's like a cold, it'll go away on it's on. But we fail to see the depth and darkness of sin's hold on us. We fail to see the walls of the dungeon that hold us captive here in these corrupted sinful bodies. We are blind to our own blindness.

The Jews Jesus was talking to didn't see it. “We're Abraham's descendants and have never been slaves to anyone”. They didn't see it. They didn't even know they were slaves. They couldn't handle the truth.

Perhaps they were also ignorant of their own history – and a lesson to draw here today is to know our own. For Abraham's descendants certainly were slaves to someone – named Pharaoh. God went to great trouble to bring them out of bondage in Egypt, sending signs and wonders, and working through the great deliverer, Moses. Throughout the Old Testament God continually reminded the people of these events – not to worship Moses, and not to think they were something in themselves – but to remind them of his great mercy and his mighty arm to save.

Do we know our own history? As Lutherans, we can look back to how God worked in mighty ways to deliver us from the bondage of false doctrine – man-made doctrine – under the power of pope instead of pharaoh. We can remember the man God once used to bring about such freedom – a monk named Luther. But we should first and foremost give thanks to God the true deliverer who brings us to the truth, and frees us from error, so that we may see Jesus our Savior clearly.

He is the true deliverer, Jesus Christ. Abiding in his word, his truth, means keeping him central to our lives and our doctrine. Jesus Christ, born of a virgin, perfect and without sin, the Son of God who sets us free from our slavery by ransoming us in his perfect death on Calvary. This is the point of Reformation day – and of every other day we mark and observe. Christ was crucified for you, the slave to sin. Christ died to set you free from sin.

He reforms you by grace through faith, in the work of his Spirit, and not of yourself but this is God's gift. No one can boast of their own works of righteousness – but we do boast all the more about how good God is to all people in his Son.

Abiding in this truth, the truth of Jesus, the church is always being freed - and reformed. Because individual sinners are being reformed. By repentance and forgiveness, God renews and reforms us toward his own image. He makes slaves to sin into sons of righteousness. He makes helpless and hopeless, wretched and wicked men and women into holy and righteous children of God. He does this for you – in Jesus Christ.

So be free – from all the sin that would cling to you. In Jesus, be free from the guilt and shame of your wicked works. He died for those. They're gone. Be free from the devil's lies and man's deceptions – and cling to, hold to, abide in Jesus' word. A word which says, “I've done it all for you – it is finished!” A word of grace and mercy, and word of hope and faith. A word which bespeaks us righteous. A little word that can fell even the devil himself, and has, at cross and tomb, at font and rail, forevermore, in Jesus Christ, Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 21 - Mark 10:23-31

Pentecost 21

St. John's Lutheran Church, Racine, WI

October 21st, 2012

Mark 10:23-31

Greetings, Introductions, etc...

Today's Gospel reading follows immediately after last week's, when Jesus lovingly tried to call the rich young man to repentance. “Go sell everything you have” if you want to enter the kingdom, and the man went away sad, for he was very rich. And now, Jesus comments on the incident, and on the broader problem of those with great riches entering the kingdom. And his disciples are amazed.

Why were they amazed by this? Perhaps because then, like now, we look at those with wealth and riches in a certain light. We see wealth and riches as a mark of success and perhaps even a sign of God's favor.

We Americans are especially susceptible to this kind of thinking. We are the world's superpower, and even in a down economy, the wealthiest country in the world. Our standard of living is among the highest, and we enjoy many physical blessings just by living here. Even our poor people are quite well off by a worldly standard. So the easy thing to think is, God must favor us. He must be rewarding us, as a nation, for our great values on freedom and equality. We're so wonderful aren't we? God must really love this country the most.

Well maybe you're not so convinced. But what about when we look at worldly success in the church? Look at the churches that are successful, and have it made – in terms of money and people. The happening places, the bigger the better. Yes, they have the nicest buildings, the best parking lots, the newest sound systems. And the people are going there in droves – look they have so many young people and now they need to build and expand again and.... you might think... that God is really blessing that congregation because of its worldly success, its wealth. A sign of God's favor. But be careful. Bigger isn't always better, more isn't always more favored, and these outward trappings of success can easily be as much a sign of problems in the church.

Or even as an individual. Even when we look at ourselves. For many others might consider us to be wealthy. But don't we think we've earned it? Don't we tell ourselves we deserve the nice things we have? We've worked for them. We take care of our things. We give back... somewhat... We know how to handle money. We have lots of handy reasons and rationalizations- but in the end it's the same lie – that God likes me better, that he's giving me all these good things because I deserve them. That whatever success and wealth and “stuff” I have in life is mine and I earned it.

But Jesus throws a monkey wrench in all that. For those rich people, for those successful people, and even for you and me. How difficult it is to enter the kingdom of God! And if you're rich – well – all the more. It's easier for the largest animal (perhaps they weren't familiar with elephants and dinosaurs) to go through the smallest opening. It's a ridiculous thought. It's physically impossible.

And notice the disciples' reaction. “Then who can be saved?!” See, it's not that they considered themselves rich, but they thought that wealth was a sign of God's favor. And if even the ones God blesses with riches can't enter the kingdom, than what about poor little old me? If those who are successful can't even do it, then what about me – I struggle from day to day. I can't keep my ducks in a row. I can't handle my problems. I can't even control myself. I'm a mess. I'm a sinner.

This is what Jesus is looking for. They are starting to realize the problem. They need him. You need him. Despair of your own efforts, your own works, your own value and worth. If even the rich and powerful and successful and glamorous are shut out of the kingdom, if not even those far “better” than you and I can get in... then we are sunk. On our own, we are lost. Without God, it is impossible.

“With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.”

Once the despair starts to set in, the helplessness and hopelessness of their situation, Jesus starts to open the door for the Gospel. He begins to explain that while yes, it is impossible for you, even for the rich man, to enter the kingdom... with God, it's possible. It's possible, and it's a reality, in Jesus Christ... but first Peter interrupts....

“Lord, we've left everything to follow you...” Maybe this is the trick, Peter reasons. Maybe it's not being rich, but being poor that earns God's favor. Maybe it's leaving everything behind. Maybe it really is selling all your stuff and going into a career in missionary work. Maybe it's moving 9344 miles away (but who's counting) and preaching in a foreign land, to a foreign people.

But it's not that either. It's never been about having the things or not having the things. It's never been about being rich or poor, successful or not. Or about where you live and how big your house or small your checkbook. God desires all men to be saved. God blesses rich and poor alike with the blessings that truly count. It's about the heart, it's about the faith, it's about Jesus.

Jesus, who truly left everything behind, when he left his throne in heaven to be born a lowly human and laid in a lowly manger. Foxes have holes and birds have nests, but the son of man had no where to rest his head. He had no wealth or beauty that we should regard him, but humiliated himself – stricken, smitten, afflicted, chastised and condemned. Even his garments were stripped from him. A man of sorrows, well acquainted with grief. Hardly a worldly success story. He who was first became last of all... at the cross.

This is how God does the impossible. This is how God gets the rich and the poor and even you through the eye of the needle into the kingdom of heaven – through the cross. Through the impossible thought of God becoming Man, and the Creator dying for the creature, the one without sin, taking the sins of all. And through death, bringing forth life. Impossible? Not with God. Not with Jesus Christ. Not with silver or gold, but with his holy precious blood.

And this faith will lead us who believe to fear, love, and trust in him above all things. Above all material wealth and riches. It may mean literally leaving some things behind. Or it may mean simply repenting of putting these idols before the true God. Christ is worth far more to us than “houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands”. And Christ promise us far more than any of that in the kingdom to come.

But he also mentions persecution. Before the bright shiny day at the end of the tunnel, there are persecutions. Christians can expect that the life of faith brings trouble, hardship, and persecution. People won't regard us like they regard the rich – with awe and admiration. The world won't roll out the red carpet for the followers of Jesus.

In the kingdom of God things aren't always as they seem. The rich aren't always the ones with God's favor. And the persecuted and troubled aren't always the ones out of favor. The last are sometimes first, and the first are sometimes last. And even the extraordinary, the incredible, the impossible.... is possible, and very real. Even for you the sinner, salvation is sure, through Jesus Christ our Lord. In his name, Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 20 - Mark 10:17-22

Pentecost 19

St. Paul Lutheran Church, Annapolis, MD

October 14^th, 2012

Mark 10:17-22

Grace, mercy and peace.... Introductions, etc...

Another episode, another conversation, another lesson for us from Jesus. This time it's the rich young man who wants to justify himself. The dialogue is amazing. The man's ears are so stopped up with works righteous pride that he can't hear the law Jesus is blasting at him. But what the man was unwilling to do, and what none of us can do for ourselves, Jesus does for us all. Let's encounter God's law and his gospel today, so that we do not also go away sorrowful...

“What must I do to inherit eternal life??” What a question. It's a big question. An existential question. Like the meaning of life, and why do bad things happen to good people. But there's a difficulty with this question. It betrays a stunning, but very common misunderstanding of how this all works.

Let's start with the idea of inheritance. Of course in our everyday world, an inheritance is one thing. You're not supposed to have to work for it – it's supposed to be yours by rights. Perhaps the firstborn son is the traditional heir, to the farm, the estate, or the kingdom of his father.

But then, there are those strained relationships, where parents disown estranged children from the will. Families squabble over the estate like a pack of hyenas over a fresh kill. Sin turns us into green eyed monsters and things become more important than people. And we assert our rights, this is mine, I've got it coming to me. It's my inheritance.

Not so in the kingdom of God. Here, it is we who long ago disowned ourselves from God, wrote ourselves out of his will for us, rejected him and his blessings. An earthly son or daughter might hope to work their way back into a parent's graces, and maybe a share in the estate. But with God, there is no such hope. “What must I do?” when it's too late? When the judgment is already rendered, “the soul that sins shall die”. The wages if sin is death. The wicked will not stand in the judgment. Uh oh. We've got a problem here. What must I do... when what I really deserve is not to inherit eternal life, but condemnation?

The young man knew it, or so it seemed. He knew he needed something. There is a sense in all of us that we're not quite right. The law of God, written on our hearts, tells us somehow, in some way, we lack something. It's a little voice that can be muffled with enough hardening of heart. But it takes work.

This young man, in his foolishness, felt he was so close. He must have thought there was one finishing touch to be made on his lifetime masterpiece of good works. Funny how, no matter how much we tell ourselves we're righteous, there is always this lingering doubt... At least, when we're looking to ourselves, our own achievements. I may tell myself I am good. But can I convince myself I am good... enough?

“Good Teacher”. He doesn't get Jesus right, either. He doesn't address Jesus as Lord, or Savior, or Christ. Just a “good teacher”. Jesus probes, “Why do you call me good? No one is good but God alone?” You don't know what good is, my friend. Yes, Jesus is good, in the truest and holiest sense of goodness. And if the man knew it, he would have shuddered in fear. Yes, Jesus is more than a teacher, he is God made flesh. And if the man knew it he would have fallen on his face, like Isaiah, and Peter, and so many other sinners confronted with the presence of Holy God. But not this young man, so sure of himself, so reliant on his own goodness, so in the dark about his sin, and his Savior.

Jesus points him to the commandments. He says he's kept them. And anyone who thinks so has a shallow view of these holy commands. This is where Martin Luther's Small Catechism is so insightful, with all of it's “What does this mean...?” Each of these commandments is just a starting point for us to examine the depth of our sins. Jesus, too, raises the bar – he says “do not murder” includes the hatred of the heart, and “do not commit adultery” includes lustful thoughts. There's no escaping the law. There is no one righteous, not one. Not this young man, not me, not your pastor, not you.

And finally, Jesus hits him where it hurts. Rather than spend all day explaining the many ways this man breaks God's law, he pulls out his scalpel, and strikes where the man's heart truly is. “Sell your stuff”. In effect, saying, “repent”. Turn from your false gods. Turn to me, the true God, the only one who is good. And I will help you.

I don't know where your heart is, but I think you do. I don't know what sins you cling to. Maybe it is greed, like the young man. Maybe it is lust, or anger, or pride. And if I were Jesus, I'd point it out, too. But I can call you to think of it, and repent of it, and turn to the one who is good, who comes to give you an inheritance you don't deserve.

So where does that leave us? We could leave here today like the young man, hanging our head in sorrow. Our we could receive him who comes to us with grace and mercy. We could go and try harder to do that one little thing that we foolishly think will complete our masterpiece of self-righteousness, or we could admit that it's all a sham, that we are poor beggars, and beg for mercy from the merciful one.

Jesus is the good teacher. But he is more than just a teacher. He gives the one thing that we lack – himself. His blood. His cross. His innocent suffering and death in our place, which gives us his own righteousness. He becomes the man of sorrows, to take away the sorrow of our sin. He is bereft of all earthly possessions, even his garments are divided among the soldiers. And finally, he gives even his own life. He gives all the riches of heaven to us, the poor, the needy, the lowly. And he makes us rich- truly rich, but not with silver or gold.

“What must I do to inherit eternal life?” The answer is: nothing. You can't. You won't, without Jesus. But with him, there is nothing you can do, for he has already done it, accomplished it, and sealed you as an heir of heaven. He has already died, that you may live. You can only receive it in faith and rejoice.

So receive him this day, in his word, in his body and blood, for your forgiveness, life and salvation. And go this day, not in the sorrow of your sin, but in the joy of your inheritance in Christ. Go, not in the self-righteousness of a fool, but in the righteousness of Christ that belongs to all the heirs of eternal life.

Sermon - Pentecost 19 - Mark 10:2-16

Pentecost 19

Bethlehem Lutheran Church, Baltimore

St. James Lutheran Church, Baltimore

October 7^th, 2012

Mark 10:2-16

Grace, mercy and peace.... Introductions, etc...

The Pharisees can't trip up Jesus. He is the one who puts men to the test, not the other way around. So here, as always, their attempts to trap and trick him fail.

But there's more to this than Jesus besting them in a theological debate. There's instruction on marriage and family. There's teaching on sin and blessing. And there's hints of a deeper reality that comes in the kingdom of God through Christ – where the marriage is forever, and the children are eternally blessed.

Their question about divorce reminds me of my 7^th grade confirmation students asking, “Is this a sin? Is that a sin?” It is the little legalist in all of us that wants to know what can we get away with? How far can I push the limits of the law, and still be good to go? Behind that is the assumption that if we simply avoid this or that, we can avoid sin and justify ourselves. If divorce is a sin, then just get divorced, and you haven't sinned. But if divorce is permitted, and all you need is a certificate, then get the paperwork and you're free and clear, right?

Wrong, according to Jesus. He takes them, and us, back to the source, the foundation of marriage – he takes them back to Eden. There, God created male and female. There, God instituted the one flesh union of marriage, and blessed it. There, and then, he established for us something that holds great blessing and something that should not be put asunder. So the question begins not with do's and don'ts, but with the free blessing of God for us. Sadly, we don't always receive God's gifts as the blessings he intends.

Jesus pulls no punches, so let's not either.  Yes, divorce is sinful. It is a painful reality in a sinful world. And it is a sin which Christians too often give a pass. “Oh they were just too different”. “They grew apart.”. “They couldn't make it work”. We treat divorce as something that just happens by chance. We say it's nobody's fault. But sinners do sinful things that lead to divorce. Jesus says it is because of hardened hearts.

And other sinners gloss it over, so as not to make anyone feel bad. But providing cover for a sin by acting like it's not a sin, is just as sinful. There's plenty of guilt to go around, and ample reason for all of us to repent.

Even for those of us “happily married”, do we honor God's gift of marriage as we should? Do wives submit to their husbands as to the Lord? Do husbands love their wives as their own bodies, nurturing and caring as we should? Do we lay down our lives for our wives? Paul's instructions for marriage in Ephesians could accuse us all. And if our marriage was compared to the scrutiny of our marriage vows, how many of us love, honor, and cherish as we should?

We all stand condemned. We all dishonor the gifts God gives. We all seek to put God's blessings asunder.

Jesus is not in the business of seeing people divided, separated, torn apart. He is about making whole, making one, reuniting and reconciling. Not only sinner to sinner, but sinner to God.

In Christ, God and man are made one – even in the person of Jesus. True God and true man – being of the substance of the Father, but conceived in the flesh of man in the womb of Mary. God and man are “joined together” in the incarnation, a not so subtle indication of his overall mission to bring God and man, once separated by sin, back together forever.

In Christ, God reconciles the world to himself. At the cross, even as his body is broken, Jesus repairs, restores, revives and renews. Even when we were enemies, outsiders, and wanted nothing to do with him, he sought us and made us his own.

We are united to him, buried with him and raised with him in Baptism. We are united with him and each other in the Holy Communion. There, we are together with angels, archangels and all the company of heaven. There, we are united in a physical but mysterious way with our Lord, with his Body and Blood.

What God has joined together, in Christ, let man not put asunder. Let man not separate. You see, for a Christian, marriage is much more than just two people who vow to be together until death. Christian marriage is a picture of the very union between Christ and his bride, the church. We are, all together, the bride of Christ. He is the ever-faithful bridegroom. We were the damsel in distress – the distress of sin and death. He is the knight in shining armor, our champion, who rescues from the dragon us and wins us a happily ever after.

And is it an accident that our text about marriage is followed by Jesus' regard for the little children? For one of the great blessings of marriage is that through the one flesh union, God brings forth new life. In the bearing of children, the two, quite literally, become one. Even as much as we are part of his bride, the church, so also are we, through Christ, children of God. And Jesus regards even little children.

I remember as a child of about 8 or 10, being given the great responsibility of ordering some lunch-meat while mom shopped for some other groceries. And so I stood at the deli counter, waiting for my turn. But the people behind the counter didn't seem to notice me, and only waited on the adults. Maybe they didn't think that I was old enough to do my own shopping. Or maybe I was just too short to see.

But Jesus regards the little ones. He has a special place in his heart for them. He touches them and blesses them, blesses even us. He gives us all blessings at the font. He brings us to himself, even when some would say the blessing isn't for children. He calls us his own, calls us by name, and commends us to the Father.

Receiving his kingdom like a little child means to receive him, Jesus, with childlike faith and trust in him to make it all right.

He brings forgiveness, for all who sin - for the divorcee and those who dishonor marriage in any way, for all those who are separated from God by our sins. He brings life to those whose lives are torn apart and in tatters. He brings salvation, renewal and reconciliation to all who receive him and look to the blessings of his cross rather than to our own devices. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one put asunder.... in Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Sermon - St. Michael and All Angels

St. Michael and All Angels (Observed)

Our Redeemer, Newark, DE

September 30^th, 2012

Grace, mercy and peace.... Introductions, etc...

Today we observe an unusual day in the church calendar, St. Michael and All Angels day. We are in some ways, perhaps well acquainted with angels. At least culturally speaking:

We have “Touched by an Angel” and “It's a wonderful life”, books and movies, and a song by Aerosmith. We have angelic precious moments figures, and a guardian angel motorist club. Angels are all around us, but just how biblical are these cultural images and uses?

Scripturally speaking, an angel is a heavenly being which speaks and acts as an agent of God. The good angels are numerous and powerful, and they are ministering servants sent to help God's people in various ways. They are not to be worshiped, nor do we become angels when we die.

But perhaps the most important thing to know about angels, is simply what the word angel means – literally, “messenger”. It's the same word which makes up the ev-angel of evangelism – the good-message or good news. Angels are messengers. And as such, it's not so important who and what they are as it is what they do and especially what they say.

Especially in the New Testament, when God's plan of salvation in Christ takes a major step forward, angels make an appearance, as if by their very presence to highlight the importance of the message: “Glory to God in the highest, for born this day to you in the city of David is the savior, Christ the Lord.” Angels minister to Jesus in the toughest moments of his work for us, in wilderness and garden. Angels bookend the empty tomb and proclaim the Easter message, “He is not here. He is risen, as he said!” And the voice of the archangel and the trumpet call of God will announce Christ's second coming, when all his angels accompany him, and the final victory celebration is announced.

To be sure, there are false angels, with false messages. Satan himself, a fallen angel, is the father of lies. He wants nothing more than to distort and pervert the true word of God, and turn the good news into bad news. He would tell you that your salvation isn't sure. That it depends on your own good works. And that your sins are too terrible even for God to forgive. He would pollute the Christian message with all sorts of mixed messages to unfix our eyes from Jesus. And his goal is ultimately to drive you to despair and unbelief. Preserve us from the evil foe, oh Lord! Send your angels to strengthen us, and keep us steadfast in your word.

If an angel is a messenger, and what's important is not so much the messenger, but the message, then there's another way to think of angels.

Pastors, are God's angels – his messengers, to you, his people. In fact there is some good reason to think that when John writes, in the book of Revelation, to the angels of the seven churches – he is really addressing their pastors. Now, I've known Pastor Loesch long enough to tell you that he is certainly no angel, but I also know the message he preaches is Christ crucified for sinners like you and me. I know you hear that message week in and week out, a message of Law and Gospel, sin and Grace. A message which keeps Christ always before you, and which points you to Christ's means of grace: word, baptism, supper. He is your minister, your servant, in this place, to bring you a crystal clear, life-saving, life-changing message of salvation in Christ alone.

But others need to hear this message, too. Some who live in far away places, other continents, even in Singapore. There God also sends messengers so that Christ's message can be proclaimed. The same message to people who have the same problem of sin and death. The same savior crucified and risen for all.

And you people of Our Redeemer, like all of God's people, also bear the message. You do it in a different way than a pastor or missionary or heavenly angel – but you witness and give answer for the hope that is within you. You speak a message when you confess your faith with other Christians, kneel to receive Christ's body and blood (you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes). And your actions of Christian love and service speak sometimes louder than words about the love that you have first known in Jesus. God has called you to various stations and roles in life – parent, friend, worker, citizen, spouse. In all these callings you are God's agents and messengers to bring his message and his gifts to your neighbor. In this sense, you are angelic. Thanks be to God.

But there would be no angels were it not for Christ, the chief messenger of God. The agent of creation, the living word of God, the original (though uncreated) angel. He appears in the Old Testament as the “Angel of the Lord”, and accomplishes God's purposes. In Jesus Christ, the word, the message, is made flesh and dwells among us. Thus he is both the messenger and the message, the author and fulfiller of our faith, the content and the conveyer of our salvation. It's all about Jesus. And Jesus is all about procuring and proclaiming our salvation.

What a joy to share this message with you today. What a blessing to know we believe and proclaim the same message. That together with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven... with pastors and missionaries and all the people of God on earth.... and through the blood of the one who is both messenger and message, even Jesus Christ himself, we have heard, and we believe, and we will live and praise him forever. In Jesus Christ our Lord, amen.

Sermon - Trinity 16 - Luke 7:11-17

Trinity 16

Trinity Lutheran Church, Cumberland, MD

September 23^rd, 2012

Luke 7:11-17

Grace, mercy and peace.... Introductions, etc...

At Nain, life crashes into death, and life wins.

Jesus was traveling with a crowd, who had surely seen his miracles and perhaps were impressed with his teaching. There was something special about this man from Nazareth. He was more than the usual itinerant preacher. There must have been quite the buzz, as the messianic expectations charged the air around him. Could he be the one we've been waiting for?

Then, there is, coming from the other direction, a rather different crowd. A group of mourners. A funeral procession. And while no funeral is a joyous occasion, here the sadness was especially bitter. For the man who died left his mother, a widow, behind. On top of the grief and shock of losing her son, now she had no one to take care of her. No husband, and now, no son.

And not only do these two groups meet outside the city, but the Lord of Life here meets the dead man, and calls him to life. Jesus actually touches the funeral bier, which would have made a good Jew ritually unclean. But Jesus makes the unclean clean, and Jesus makes the dead alive. Miraculously, he raises the young man from death, who sits up and begins talking (I wonder what he was saying). And Jesus gives him back to his mother. He restores what was lost. He sets all things right.

This is more than just a miracle, however. The miracles of Jesus are always teaching moments. They are calling cards that point to who he is. In this case, the people who saw the miracle began to interpret its meaning – that Jesus is a prophet, and that God has visited his people. But did they know and hear and believe the prophetic message he spoke? And did they know just how God had visited them, that this Jesus was and is God of God in the flesh of man? And did they know what his visitation would mean?

We must also read and interpret the miracles of Jesus with the rest of the New Testament in mind. We know where this story is going, and how it ends. The same Jesus who raised the little girl, the young man, and his friend Lazarus would also himself rise from the dead. We must read this miracle through the cross and empty tomb of Christ, which were soon to come.

There, Jesus, another widow's son, would be condemned to death. Then he would go with a different crowd to the outskirts of a different city – Jerusalem, accompanied by others who would weep and mourn. But even then, Jesus redirects the weeping and mourning for those who would not receive him, would not believe in him, and would ultimately be destroyed. The real power of death, the sting of death is sin... and he had come to take that sting away.

But nevertheless, Jesus meets death, in his own body, in the most personal way. At the cross, he not only touches death, but he swallows it up forever, swallows it up in victory.

One day, perhaps sooner than you think, you may be the one on the funeral bier, taking up space in the casket. Your body will rest quiet, lifeless, and mourners will gather. Death comes for all of us who sin, and we all sin. It's a reality we often put out of our minds, but sometimes it crashes into our reality with a shock and awe that leaves us speechless.

But Jesus speaks to that. He first met you, and spoke to you, when you were dead in your sins. He met you, not outside the city, but a the font of baptism. When the pastor spoke those words, and baptized you into the name of God, it's as if Jesus said to you, “arise”. There your living death of sin became the new life, the eternal life, of a child of God.

St. Paul says, “We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:4).

And each day as we return to those waters of repentance and faith, life and death crash into each other again, and life wins. Jesus renews and forgives you, restores and revives you to live for him.

And just as Jesus touched death on the outskirts of Nain, so does he come, bodily, to touch you this day. He comes in bread and wine, with his body and blood, to touch your lips and bring you forgiveness and life.

One day, at the resurrection of the dead, Jesus will raise all those who rest in him. At the trumpet call of God, the dead in Christ will rise, in our bodies, glorified, in a resurrection like his. Then will be the ultimate fulfillment of the new life he brings. Then death will be forever cast away, along with all tears of mourning, sadness, and pain.

This is the only hope for all who walk in death. Jesus is the only one who can bring life from death. When I go to Singapore, well, I am not Jesus. But I will bring the words of Christ, the message of Christ, his Gospel. And that word is life. When I preach that word here, just as your pastor preaches it here, Jesus is again meeting sin and death with forgiveness and life, and in him, life wins. For in Christ, a prophet is truly among us. In Christ, God has visited you. In Christ, life touches death, and death is no more.

Sermon - Pentecost 16 - Mark 7:14-29

Pentecost 16

St. John's Lutheran Church, Edgerton

September 16th 2012

Mark 7:14-29

Grace and peace to you in Christ, friends in Christ...

“If you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us”

“If you can! All things are possible for those who believe.”

“I believe. Help my unbelief.”

The heart of the exchange between the man whose son was beset by a demon, and the one who has authority to command unclean spirits, Jesus Christ, the Lord.

There are many ways to approach this text. We could focus on the power and authority of Jesus – which extends not only over the forces of nature, but also to things and beings supernatural. But demons are a small thing for our powerful Christ. He holds sway over death itself, because he has authority to forgive sins.

Or we could focus on the utter helplessness of the family, and how Jesus has compassion on those in trouble, and is the one, the only one, who can really help us. Other miracles echo this idea, “if you are willing, you can make me clean.” “I am willing, be clean”.

But as a pastor for 13 years, I've also come to appreciate the words of the man in this text. I've used this simple prayer of the frazzled father to comfort many Christians in doubt. For no one's faith is perfect. All are tinged with doubts and fears and, quite frankly, unbelief.

Take Peter. Witness to miracles and wonders, even to the transfiguration. He's willing to walk on the water, but wind and wave make him waver. He's ready to draw his sword and fight for Jesus, even chops off a man's ear.

But the accusation of the servant girl and the crow of the rooster cut through all his bravado, and he denies Jesus and calls down curses.

Or go back to Abraham, the paragon of faith – ready to sacrifice his son on the altar. Ready to pick up and move to a foreign land. He takes the worse land and gives the better land to his nephew, Lot. Abraham believed in God, and it was credited to him as righteousness. But even he had his moments. Oh, no, Pharaoh, don't kill me to marry my wife – she's just my sister, yeah, that's the ticket!

And then, there's you. You, the person in the pew at St. John's, here today. Now I've never met you before, but I'm fairly certain you can relate. You believe, and you need help with your unbelief.

Sure, you gather here, in faith, to hear the word of God. You listen to and regard your pastor, your God-given shepherd. He tells you about Jesus Christ, crucified for your sins, and you keep coming back to hear more. You gather at the rail here, and receive a blessed sacrament. It's the body and blood of Christ, pastor says, just like Jesus promises. And you receive it, for the forgiveness of your sins, just like Jesus promises. And this is all very good.

Someone looking at you on a Sunday morning might say, “Wow, what a wonderful Christian. What a paragon of faith! Others are sleeping in, but here you are. Others are out golfing or going to rummage sales or just catching up after a busy week, but you are a person of faith! You devote time to God! You must truly believe!”

If they only knew what sinners we Christians truly are. Show me a “good person” who doesn't sin much, and I will show you someone who's just good at hiding it. Show me a doer of good works, and I can poke holes in their motivations for doing them, and point to sinful pride when they're done. And if you tell me that a Christian is a believer, I can guarantee you that Christian, that person of faith, struggles to believe.

We all have our doubts and fears. We all have our moments. Like Peter, like Abraham, like your own pastor and this new missionary.

Often it's when your life is a mess, when the going gets tough. You may not have a demon possessed son, but you may be in the grips of some other demons. You made your bed of sin and now you have to lie in it. Or maybe it's the sinful world that has brought you trouble. Your world shatters at a sudden loss. It's hard to find God in the midst of the pain. Or you struggle to pay the bills, and wonder why God isn't helping. Isn't he listening? Doesn't he care?

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. I believe that Jesus Christ, true God and true man, is my Lord, and has redeemed me. Help, now, my unbelief. I believe that my Lord Jesus Christ lived and died and rose for me, and that he still lives and reigns, for me, but help my unbelief. I believe that now matter how dark the day in life's daily stomp through the sewer, there is light at the end of the tunnel, and a resurrection glory awaiting, but help my unbelief.

I believe that the cross of Christ is the help that I need, the help for my suffering, the help for my sin, and the help for my unbelief. For when I look at myself, and measure my own faith and works, I will always come up short, and so will you. But faith doesn't look to ourselves. We believe in someone else – the one who has the power, the compassion, and the will to do something for us. Jesus, the one who helps us.

“If you can!” he marvels. Of course he can. All things are possible for one who believes... in Christ.

So he commands the demon to go. He simply speaks, and it is so. His authoritative word does the job. His word does what it says. His promise delivers what if offers.

So does his word help you. That word, the means of his gifts. That word, attached to water, bread, wine. That word, in which we believe, by which we receive him who comes to help and rescue and save us all. Sins forgiven. Life renewed. Freed from death and the forces of evil.

If you are like Peter, and Abraham, and all the other people of God, you can pray this prayer, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.” If your faith wavers, and it surely will, the answer isn't to look within. The solution isn't to try harder to believe. The answer is to look again to the object of your faith. To hear his word, and believe in him who can... and does help. Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. In Jesus Christ, our Lord, Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost 14 - Mark 7:14-23

Pentecost 14

St. Paul Lutheran Church, Union Grove, WI

September 2nd, 2012

Mark 7:14–23

Grace, mercy and peace.... greetings to the people of St. Paul, etc.

Our liturgical calendar tells us it is the 14^th Sunday after Pentecost. But our unofficial secular American calendar of seemingly endless days of honor named yesterday “international bacon day”. I, myself, observed it and partook.  Fittingly ironic, perhaps, since our Gospel reading today touches on foods that weren't always permitted in the diet of God's people.

Some people, back then, were very concerned with what goes into the body – that by eating certain foods they were made unclean. And while there were the Old Testament dietary laws, these were part of a liturgical system which meant to proclaim the coming Savior. The clean and unclean laws were shadows of the deeper realities of our own uncleanness, and of the one who comes to make us all clean.

But sinners twist stuff like this, and what was meant to be a blessing to them, because another point of confusion. Now, some thought that they were just fine and dandy with God as long as they followed the cleanliness rituals. Avoid certain foods, and you're fine. The unclean food will make you unclean, so just don't eat that food.

Our Lord Jesus Christ teaches us a great deal this morning about sin. We sinners have some funny ideas about sin. You'd think we know it well, but we don't. We have a twisted view of how twisted we are. Jesus sets us straight.

Some today would simply use a different cookbook for their own self-righteousness. As long as I do A, B, and C, I am good with God. And if I avoid X, Y and Z, then I am clean and pure. It's the self-deception of a sinner who thinks that what he does or doesn't do, or avoid doing, can make himself right with God.

Jesus knocks down this flimsy house of self-justifying cards, and cuts to the heart of uncleanness. It is the heart of man that is the cradle of filth and wickedness. What comes out of you defiles you, not what goes in. The food isn't what makes you hateful and lustful and immoral. It's your heart, corrupted by sin.

And who can avoid his own heart? Who can tame his own sinful thoughts? Here, as he often does, Jesus demonstrates how hard, even impossible it is for us to behave ourselves or save ourselves. Because in our very thoughts we are defiled, unclean. And these thoughts lead to unclean words, and unclean actions. We are, quite frankly, a mess. The problem is on the inside, and it runs through and through.

So from where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord. It comes from the outside of us, from Jesus.

We need a Savior. We need someone outside of ourselves. We need external assistance. We need someone who isn't corrupted like we are. We need somewhere to look besides our own fallen flesh. We need Jesus.

Jesus comes from outside of us – from heaven's high throne – and he comes down to be one of us, incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the Virgin Mary. He is made man. He breaks into our broken world and brings with him all the righteousness and holiness of God, for that's who he is.

And he does what we cannot do, in and of ourselves. First, he lives a holy, perfect, sinless, obedient life – following the law of God down to the last little letter. He loves God perfectly. He loves his neighbor as himself. He never has a sinful thought, word or deed. He doesn't do anything forbidden, and he leaves no good work undone. He actively fulfills the law – not for his own sake, but for ours. So that we can have a righteousness that comes from outside of us, as a pure and free gift.

And he receives what we should receive – the punishment of God. In his passive obedience, Christ humbles himself to be arrested, tried, tortured and condemned for crimes he never committed. He bears the beam of the cross, loaded with the burden of the world's sins. He marches it outside of the Holy City, so that those in his Holy Jerusalem are spared. He is made an outsider to the Father, so that we are always welcomed before God's face. And he suffers the ultimate humiliation of death, the great leveler of all men, to turn death itself inside out.

It's not what comes from within a man that saves him, but it is he, Jesus, who comes from without. Who comes from the throne of heaven. Who lives perfectly and dies perfectly, and lives eternally.

You have heard his word, and believed it. That word, which came from without. You couldn't have done it yourself. Don't we confess, “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength, believe in my Lord Jesus Christ or come to him, but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel..”?

It is his word of promise, that goes into your ears, and into your heart, renewing and restoring you, by the Spirit working in that word.

It is, now, what goes into a man, a Christian, that makes him clean. It is the body and blood of Christ, given and shed for you, that goes into your mouth, that forgives the mess of sin within. It is his promise, attached to external things, that goes into you, and cleanses and restores. It is Jesus, always Jesus, only Jesus from outside of you, for you, forever. In his holy name, Amen.

Sermon - Trinity 12 - Mark 7:31-37

Trinity 12

Messiah Lutheran Church, Kenosha, WI

August 26, 2012

Mark 7:31-37

Grace, mercy and peace.... greetings to the people of Messiah, etc.

Today's Gospel reading from Mark 7 relates one of the miracles of Jesus, the healing of a deaf-mute man. It happens before the “secret is out” so to speak, and so Jesus does it privately, and tells him to keep quiet about it (at least for now). The time wasn't right yet, though soon Jesus would be telling his disciples to “go and tell”.

It is, like Jesus other miracles, a “calling card”. His miracles are not why he came – but they point to him like a big flashing sign that says, “here's the Messiah”. They fulfill some of the prophecies about the Holy One of God in the midst of them, and also show Jesus' great compassion for people.

But they also teach us about the true character and nature of this Jesus. He is always giving out blessings, in word and deed, healing, forgiving, making whole.

And how precious few are the times the New Testament quotes the actual words, the vocables, of Jesus. There aren't many. “Talitha Cum” Little girl, arise. “Eli, Eli, Lama Sabachthani”, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? And today we hear what Jesus said to the deaf man, “Ephatha”, that is, “be opened.”

The powerful word spoken by the Living Word of God, the word that does what it says, gives what it commands. The same word that spoke creation into existence – let there be light, there there be this, and that – is the word and the speaker that recreates this man's broken sense of hearing.

But the problem and the solution are deeper. Illness, disease, deafness, and death are all fruits of the same tree – wages of the same work, and that is sin. The root cause of all our suffering and trouble in life. Sin. If you are struggling with something, stressing about something, feel bad about something, if there's anything wrong in your life – you don't have to look far to see the connection to sin.

Often, it's our own sin. I cause many, maybe most of my own problems in life. And as I look in the mirror, well, St. Paul says it best – the letter kills. The letter of the law. The truth hurts. I am conceived and born in and struggle with my sin, and will until I die.

But sometimes it's the sin of the world around us, the brokenness of creation. Sometimes people are born broken, and sometimes disease takes away our health later in life, and sometimes cancer strikes even the young, bringing suffering and trouble and even death.

But sin always meets its match in Jesus Christ. Sin and its wages of death, disease, trouble, hardship, curse, brokenness, blindness, deafness – all are made right again in Jesus Christ.

For God turned a deaf ear to his own Son, suffering on the cross, “why have you forsaken me?” We know why. Your sins, mine. Jesus Christ, the savior, came not just to heal and have compassion, but to give his life as a ransom for many. He came to suffer and die to take away suffering and death. He came to defeat death once and for all.

And when Jesus was buried, God showed that his sacrifice was acceptable, and he said, “Ephatha” to the tomb, rolled away the stone, and raised Jesus to life in a glorified body. So, too, as the firstborn of the dead, will Christ speak, “Ephatha” to our graves, raise us from the dead to a glorified body, to live with him forever in righteousness and holiness.

This is the light at the end of all tunnels for the Christian. This is the promise that no matter how bad life gets here, there is a better day ahead. No matter how deaf God appears to the sounds of our cry, in Jesus Christ, he hears, and he will answer, will restore, and give us eternal blessing.

By his word, even now, he has opened your ears and your heart, his Spirit speaking that “ephatha” to bring you to faith. For spiritually we are all blind, deaf, utterly helpless, unable to see or hear or know of God on our own. But his grace and mercy come to us in a powerful word and perform a miracle – bringing faith and life where there was only sin and death.

He who has ears to hear, let him hear – and by faith you do. By faith, God gives you the ears to hear his word, the heart to believe it, the eyes to see what is unseen, and the hope to grasp his promises. He gives it in word, and in bread and wine, and in water. He gives and gives, always giving, always blessing.

He opens what is closed. This is our Jesus, opening the ears of the deaf. Opening the graves of the dead. And giving health and wholeness and life, freely and forever. In his holy name, Amen.