Good Friday Meditations on the Seven Words from the Cross

 

The First Word:  Luke 23:34

³³ And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. ³⁴ And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”^[b] And they cast lots to divide his garments.

This year I’d like to take a different approach to the 7 words from the cross.  We might juxtapose, or place alongside of these 7 words the 7 days of Creation.  Here, at Calvary, as there in Genesis, God is doing something unique in all of history.  Here, as there, the Lord’s word is active and powerful.  There, creating, here, redeeming the world.

In Genesis it all began with a word, “let there be light”.  He spoke, and things happened.  The word accomplished what it said. So here he spoke forgiveness, and it happened!  “Father, forgive them,” he prays, or to put it another way, “Let there be forgiveness” and there was.

God saw the light and it was good.  We see the forgiveness of the Light of the world, and we call this dark Friday, “Good”.  For the prayer Jesus offers to the Father, to forgive them, is a prayer for us who have walked in darkness.  May we embrace the light of his forgiveness, life, and salvation, and have no fear.

 

The Second Word:  Luke 23:43

³⁹ One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him,^[d] saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” ⁴⁰ But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? ⁴¹ And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” ⁴² And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” ⁴³ And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

 

On the second day, God separated the waters above and the waters below.  He called the expanse between them, “heaven”, and it was so.  Evening and morning, the second day.

For those thieves that hung dying, heaven must have seemed a far-distant hope.  They were dying for crimes they had committed. Earthly punishment was underway.  Eternal punishment was looming.  But one of the two, however it happened, looked to Jesus in faith.  He prayed, “remember me in your kingdom”.  So humble, he didn’t even ask to be saved, just remembered.  And Jesus, who always answers the prayer of faith, does more than he could have hoped for.

He promises heaven.  “Today you will be with me in paradise”.  When Jesus commends his spirit to the Father, he brings the spirit of this faithful, forgiven thief along also.

Likewise does he respond to your prayers, oh faithful Christians.  Likewise will he bring you to paradise, to heaven, and even one day to resurrection, when this life’s sorrows end.

 

 

 

 

The Third Word:  John 19:26-27

²⁶ When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Woman, behold, your son!” ²⁷ Then he said to the disciple, “Behold, your mother!” And from that hour the disciple took her to his own home.

The third day of Creation saw the gathering of waters and the appearing of dry ground.  God then filled the ground with vegetation and fruit.  And it was good.

Here before Jesus’ cross stood Mary, his mother, and his dear beloved disciple, John.  Where all the others had fled and scattered, these faithful two stood there, gathered with him to the end. 

Jesus, the fruit of Mary’s womb, as Elizabeth once called him, was dying before his mother’s eyes.  A bitter aspect of all this agony, for Jesus to look on the tears of his own mother.  He wouldn’t stop her pain, but he did provide for her care.  Woman, behold your son. John, behold your mother.  And John gathered her into his own home from that hour.

May the Lord who gathered the waters together continue to gather together his church, to himself to receive blessings, and to each other, to love and care for one another.  And may that gathering continue to bear fruit – in good works done for our neighbor, the true fruits of faith.

 

The Fourth Word:  Matthew 27:46; Mark 15:34

⁴⁶ And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

On the fourth day, God created the sun, moon and stars.  He made them for signs and seasons, days and years.  We mark the time by their motion and their cycles.  They rule the day and the night.  They separate day and night, light and dark.

And here we have the darkest word.  Jesus withstands the full force of God’s wrath.  A burning fire with all the power of millions of suns.  Though it was at about this moment on Good Friday that the sun itself darkened.  The heavenly bodies which rule day and night bow and kneel as the creator dies for his creation.

And what is the great pain of the cross?  The nails, the thorns, the shame and derision?  No, the worst of it is being forsaken by the Father. Separated from God.  Cast into the outer darkness and severed from the source of all that is good.  Jesus suffered such wrath – not only for one of us, but for all.  Jesus suffered this horror, to save us from an eternity of suffering.

Our earthly days are numbered – and the sun, moon and stars witness the passing of such days.  But his redemption is forever- and in the kingdom that is to come there will be no more sun, for he himself will be our light.  He faced the darkness for us, so that we will never be forsaken by God.

 

 

 

 

 

The Fifth Word:  John 19:28

²⁸ After this, Jesus, knowing that all was now finished, said (to fulfill the Scripture), “I thirst.”

The Fifth Day of creation saw the waters filled with life.  Swarming and teeming fish of all kinds.  And the air full of birds according to their kinds.  The waters of this world still teem with life, and the birds of the air still depend on the riches of the sea. The God who created life still sustains it.  The God who made fruitful the seas – still multiplies their bounty for the sustaining of life.

For his part, Jesus is thirsty.  He had lost a lot of blood and sweat, and his life was fading.  Once before, when he thirsted, he asked a woman for a drink from Jacob’s well.  He called out her sin, but also intrigued her with talk of living water that would make one never thirst again.  “Sir, give me this water,” she pleaded.  And in the gracious words he spoke, he did.

Jesus thirsted.  He who gives life to teeming swarms of fish and birds and animals and men… living water that springs up even to eternal life – he thirsted.  But this drink wasn’t to save or even prolong his life.  It was to prepare his mouth for the next word – the important declaration he was about to make.  For here at the cross, the one who thirsts, becomes the fountain of living water for all who trust in him.  And in that water is more life than in all the oceans of this planet.  Eternal, abundant, springing up forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Sixth Word:  John 19:30

³⁰ When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, “It is finished,” and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

On the sixth day, God’s work of creation finished with the beasts and creepy crawlies of the land, and finally with the crown of his creation – man.  Made in his own image, male and female he created them. 

At first, Adam’s clay-fashioned body had no life in it.  It wasn’t yet finished. But God breathed the life in, the spirit into Adam’s nostrils.  And all of creation was finally declared “very good”.

Jesus is about to give up his spirit here.  The Second Adam to die for the sins of the First Adam and all his children.  But before he does, he makes a declaration.  “It is finished”, and then the breath goes out of him.  The work is all done. 

Just as he declared creation “very good” with the formation of Adam.  Now, the work of redemption gets its own exclamation point.  A final word that puts a bow on top.

And the Lord and giver of life gave up his spirit, so that all who are in him would not die, but live.  The work is done, it’s finished. It’s perfected.  And so are we, in him.  So also, our sins are finished.  So the new Adam again arises in us, and in Christ are we once again found to be, “very good”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Seventh Word:  Luke 23:46

⁴⁶ Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last.

Jesus’ final word is a word of rest.  The work is done, now his spirit rests with the Father.  Just as God’s work of creation, when finished, led him to rest.  So his rest on Saturday of creation week pointed forward to Christ’s rest in the tomb of Holy Saturday.  When Christ had completed all his work of redemption on the cross, he rested.

His work completed, and done well, it is acceptable to the Father.  He is acceptable to the Father, into whose hands he commits his spirit.  And he rests.

We who are in Christ are the same.  We, too, can rest in peace, both now and in our death, for we are safe and secure in him.  We know our spirits are committed to the Father’s care and keeping, and we will await the resurrection of the dead and the life of the word to come in the nearer presence of the Father – or as Jesus calls it, paradise.  One day our sabbath-rest in the tomb will end, and we will wake to the glory of life eternal in him.

 

 

 

 

Sermon - Palm/Passion Sunday - John 12:1-19 [20-26]

 

The city was buzzing.  People everywhere.  It was Passover Week, after all, and the pilgrims came from all around to celebrate the feast in Jerusalem.  Historians figure the population swelled to ten times the normal number.  And with all these people crowded in and around, there must have been a certain energy.

But more.  Rumors spread through the crowds.  But more than rumors.  News of a miracle.  Something so amazing, so unusual, something never heard of before – Lazarus, a man dead for four whole days – was raised back to life by a rabbai named Jesus.  Maybe some of these people had heard of him before.  The teacher from Galilee.  The great prophet.  He’d done some other miracles too, we hear.  Something about feeding 5000 people with miraculous fish and bread.  Some evil spirits who were cast out.  Oh, and the healings – we’ve heard the tales, yes.  And maybe they’ve heard of other wise men or prophets who could claim some miracles.  But this raising a man from the dead – this was another matter altogether.  This evoked question – could they dare to ask – was this actually the Messiah?

And so the buzz in the air, the electricity sparked even higher, as the crowds somehow spread the news that Jesus – this same Jesus – was coming to Jerusalem from Bethany.  Only 2 mile journey, a short donkey ride down the hill.  But long enough for the crowds to gather, for them to grab their palm branches and assemble for this divine parade.

They name him rightly, “Son of David”.  The cry out, “Save, us, now, Hosanna!”  They spread their garments and cheer for joy.  It has the feel of a victory parade, a welcome home party, the fanfare of a coronation.

But what no one in that crowd knew, was that in 6 days’ time, their Messiah would lie dead.  That very shortly, the tables would turn.  He would be mocked, not hailed as the “King of the Jews”.  Instead of the plea, “save us”, the crowds would jeer “save yourself, if you are the Son of God!”  All the adulation would turn to derision.  All the joy turned to sorrow.  All the high hopes for messianic glory would be dashed, their dreams of deliverance from Rome destroyed, and their acclamations of “Hosanna” would seem to be left unanswered by the man who now hung dead on a cross. Or so it would seem.

It is a bitter irony that the crowd welcomed Jesus so fervently on Palm Sunday, and yet still didn’t know why he came.  He came to suffer and die.  They saw their own version of a Messiah, but not the one he came to be.

Do we run the same danger?  Do we want a Messiah for our own purposes, our own agenda?  Do we want a Jesus who rides into our life to do our bidding?  If we had that kind of Messiah maybe we, too, would welcome him with fanfare.  A Jesus who gets me what I want, gets me my way, a Messiah who comes to crush my foes and bring me to easy street.  A Messiah who perhaps confirms my self-righteousness and self-indulgence.  A Messiah who asks nothing uncomfortable like repentance, and only ever tells me what I want to hear.

Just after this passage, which ends at verse 19 – we have a little account of some Greeks who came to see Jesus.  Perhaps it happened that very same day, Palm Sunday, in the temple.  Or maybe a little later in holy week.  The Greeks came to Phillip with this request, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus”.  It’s a fascinating detail and sort of echoes the gentiles who came from the East at the beginning of his life, looking for the newborn king.  Now, people come from the West, looking for the same.  The crowds were delighted to see Jesus.  The Greeks wish to see Jesus.  So how does Jesus answer?

23 And Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 24 Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. 25 Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 26 If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also.

You want to see Jesus – Jesus paints them a word picture.  A grain of wheat must fall into the ground and die.  Well, be buried.  Jesus is comparing himself to that grain of wheat.  He has come to suffer, and die, and be buried.  That is his mission, and his purpose.  Not to reign over a kingdom of this world like the kings of this world do.  Not to rule with an iron fist, or power and might, but to exercise divine humility by becoming servant of all.  To humble himself unto death, even death on a cross.  That’s the kind of Messiah you will see if you wish to see Jesus, and see him truly.

But that grain of wheat – the story doesn’t end there.  It sprouts and grows from the soil and new life comes forth.  First the grain, and then the ear, then the full corn shall appear, the hymn puts it.  It bears much fruit.  Much more than the single grain that died, the life is multiplied and perhaps made into bread even to feed hungry bellies and sustain life. 

So too for the Messiah.  His death may seem the end, but it is not.  They put him in the tomb and sealed it with a stone.  But it could not hold him.  Death itself gave way.  The stone was rolled back.  And the Messiah who died was raised to life again.  And from his new life comes much fruit.  New life for all who are in him.  A new creation in baptism, as we are buried and raised with him.  And new life in his Supper, as he feeds us and sustains us with himself.  Forgiveness, life, and salvation all around.  And a promise that even our own death will give way to new life.  We, too, will conquer death and live forever.

This is how he is glorified.  This is how he is the Messiah.  This is how we see Jesus.  And this is how he answers the prayers of “Hosanna, save us!”  By dying and rising.  And by bringing us with him.

Whoever loves his life will lose it.  That is, whoever hangs on for dear life to the things of this world, this fallen and corrupt creation, this earthly life that is passing away.  This is the losing path that has no life.  The more tightly you try to hang on, the more it slips through your fingers.

But whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.  That is to say, whoever despises his own sin and this sinful world, whoever puts no trust in his own work, and only in Christ’s work, whoever lives not for the earthly things but sets his mind on heavenly things, whoever repents of his sins and turns in faith to Christ.  Whoever receives Jesus as Messiah on his own terms and not your terms – that’s the one who has eternal life and keeps it.

If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. Where Jesus goes, there we must also go.  To death, yes.  Die to self and die to sin.  We’ve already been there in the waters of baptism, buried with Christ.  We die to sin every time we repent and return to those waters.  We go with Jesus, following his cross and taking up our own little crosses, whichever ones he has appointed for us to bear.  But it’s not all suffering and death.

We follow Jesus also into life.  Where I am, there will my servant be also.  Jesus is alive.  And so we live in him and with him.  Jesus is with the Father.  We come to the Father by him.  He went through death and then on to resurrection.  We will follow where he has gone.  And that is a blessed promise and a joyful hope.

That little request from the Greeks, “Sir, we wish to see Jesus”, is sometimes written on the inside of the Christian pulpit – where the pastor will see it each and every time he preaches.  What a good reminder.  We’re not here to share our opinion, our own wisdom, or a string of funny stories.  We’re not here to give you a pep talk or a self-help program.  We’re not even here to make you feel good.  We want to see Jesus.  We all want to see Jesus, who he is, what he does for us.

For when we gather as a crowd, and pray that God would save us, we, too, wish to see Jesus.  We wish to see him as he is – the Messiah who comes to die, and then to rise.  The King of the Jews, and Savior of the Nations.  The one who calls us to follow where he goes – and promises to be with us all the way through – even unto death, and even more, unto resurrection. 

A blessed Holy Week to you, as you see Jesus, and follow him.  Amen.

Sermon - Lent 5 - John 11:1-45

 

The season of Lent is more serious, contemplative, and even slightly somber. It is a penitential season.  At the end of Epiphany, we sing a “farewell to Alleluias” in which we find the lyrics, “the solemn time is coming, when our tears for sin must flow.”  This is a poetic description of our Lenten penitence.

Today, it's Jesus who is even brought to tears at the grave of his friend Lazarus. But it is not tears of repentance as we might weep.  Jesus weeps, according to his human nature, in a very real and human reaction of grief. 

Most of us know that this verse, John 11:35, “Jesus wept”, is the shortest in the Bible. But let's zero in on it today, especially, and there in our Savior's tears find a message of sin and grace.

First, some context. Jesus was approaching Jerusalem. Bethany, where Lazarus and his sisters lived, is really a suburb of the Holy City. And there, in Jerusalem, Jesus knew he would meet his fate at the hands of the Jews. He knew his own death was approaching. Even his disciples seemed to sense things were reaching this turning point, for Thomas said, “Let us also go, that we may die with him”.

We too, know that Holy Week and Good Friday are approaching. We too should be preparing mentally, emotionally, spiritually, for the observance of our Lord's suffering and death.

But here in Bethany, it was Lazarus who had died. Jesus had been called when Lazarus was still alive, but sick. But his arrival was, it seemed, too late. By the time Jesus got there, Lazarus worsened and died.

For two days Jesus delayed.  Strange to us, and even more disturbing to Mary and Martha.  Why didn’t Jesus drop everything and hasten to the bedside of Lazarus?  Why didn’t he seem to care that his friend was dying?  Why did he wait, delay, and not answer the prayers of his people, and honor the needs of his friend?

Here is an experience with which we can relate.  When we call upon God for aid, healing, peace, or a way out of our troubles.  So often the answer seems to be, “Not quite yet.  Be patient.  Your prayer will be answered, but not when you desire, and perhaps not how you desire.”  We are often mystified and repeat our own little mantra, “If only God had answered me…. If only this or that had been different…. If only my prayers were heard”.  And our faith forgets itself.  We forget who we are praying to, and that his wisdom far exceeds our own.  We forget that his timing is always best.  His will is always perfectly done.  So here, we must learn with Mary and Marth, that our “if only you would have” sentiment is not well placed onto Jesus.  He knows best.  We ought to trust him.

So why did Jesus wait?  Jesus tells us.  This illness does not lead to death.  It is for the glory of God.  Lazarus has fallen asleep, but I go to awaken him.

Jesus certainly knew what he was going to do.  He knew he was going to raise Lazarus from death.  He had already prayed to the Father about it and had been answered.  But knowing all this, it is perhaps even harder to fathom why he wept at the grave.

So was Jesus crying at the grave of his friend out of guilt? Knowing that he could have saved him, had he not dilly-dallied? No, of course not. Jesus knew how this would end. He told his disciples, “for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe.” He tells Martha the same, “I am the resurrection and the life” and “Your brother will live”. No, Jesus knows how it ends. That's not why he was weeping.

Why then? Was he weeping in some sort of show or sham? Like the hired mourners who wailed along with the funeral procession and at the tomb? Was he faking these tears? Of course not. Our Lord is always honest, even in his actions.

Was this an example for us to follow? To let us know that it's ok for us to weep at the graves of our loved ones? It might not be why he wept but that certainly is true. The scriptures never tell us not to cry when death comes, but only not to grieve like those who have no hope. Yes, even for Christians who believe in the promises of God about life after death, paradise and resurrection, even for us death is troublesome and painful. There is grief even when there is hope.

So too for Jesus. And perhaps we are approaching the reason for his tears. Even knowing fully well that Lazarus will rise again, and shortly, Jesus is still moved by the sorrow of death. Death is no friend to God and his people. Death is the wages of sin. Death is the interloper, which does not belong in this creation but has come to stay. Like Satan, it is the enemy. It is the necessary result of sinful flesh to die, and return to the dust from which it is formed. And with death comes pain, sorrow, grief, and fear. Nothing pleasant, there. This is why Jesus weeps.

So too, his soul would be deeply troubled in the Garden of Gethsemane, a few days later. “My soul is very sorrowful, even to death” he said. For again, Jesus would have to face death. Now, even his own, but nonetheless.

And even though he knew how it would end – even though he knew the resurrection was coming afterward – still he is troubled. There is much to learn here about godly suffering.

My dear friends, Christianity is no trite system of positive thinking in which we are to simply put on a happy face. It is no promise of a life free from tears. Indeed, the opposite. Christians are told of the persecution, suffering and cross-bearing that goes along with our faith. And God never makes a promise that he will keep us from all pain and unpleasant experience.  No, this side of heaven we are sure to face every manner of cause for weeping, and no one can escape the pall of death that covers all people. 

But it’s not all tears.  There is hope.

There are beautiful promises about the world to come – a heavenly Jerusalem in which all suffering ends, and where God will wipe every tear from our eyes. There will be no more mourning there, for even death itself will be destroyed. And the hope of that day, the promise of that future, does give comfort to us in, even in the midst of our worst earthly tears.

As does the promise of his presence. We know that he is with us always, even in our suffering, even to the end of the age. We know that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ – not trouble or nakedness or danger or sword. He says, “I will never leave you. I will never forsake you.” And we are comforted, even in our tears.

And we know that he sympathizes with us in our weakness, for he, Christ, was like us in every way, yet without sin. He experienced all of our human sorrow and then some. He is the “man of sorrows, and well acquainted with grief”. He even knew the pain of death – death of a loved one, death he would face for us all on the cross.

I imagine those tears of sorrow turned to tears of joy as Lazarus came out of his grave at the command of the Lord. I imagine the mourners, and the sisters, and perhaps even Jesus himself – wept tears anew, tears of joy seeing Lazarus walking and talking and alive.

So too, the empty tomb of Christ would give all of us, his people, cause for weeping tears of joy. For not only is our Lord alive again, but his resurrection means that he has conquered death for us all. He is our forerunner in death and in resurrection – going where we will someday follow. In Jesus we can see our future. In Jesus we have hope and comfort.

When life brings you to tears, remember that Jesus wept. Know that he understands. And far from dismissing your tears of pain, he offers sympathy and hope. For as Lazarus was raised, Christ was raised, so we all shall be raised on that great and glorious day when God will wipe every tear from our eyes. In Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Sermon - Lent 2 - Romans 4:1-8; 13-17

 

“Counted”

Romans 4:1-8;13-17

For what does the Scripture say? “Abraham believed God, and it was counted to him as righteousness.”

From an early age we learn to count.  1, 2, 3….  I remember laying in bed at night, as a child, seeing how high I could count before falling asleep.  We learn numbers and counting for lots of good purposes in life.  But we also quickly learn to count as a way of keeping track of what is fair.  If he gets three candies and I only get two – wait, no fair!  If I’m making $17 an hour and that person hired after me makes $20!  That’s not right.  If I do the dishes and laundry but all he does is play video games, well, then, the math isn’t gonna work.  The account’s not square and settled.

But it’s not just numbers.  It’s the broader “counting” of fairness, justice. What is right?  The kids on the playground who know that if your toes are over the line when you make a shot – “it doesn’t count”.  And every little lawyer will call out his objection if anyone says otherwise.

But our counting, like everything we do of ourselves, is tainted by sin, and applied in a way that benefits self over neighbor.  Our sense of justice is often twisted, and so our measurement of what is right and proper is skewed.  We cook the books, as it were, in our own favor.  As a U.S. president once quipped, “Fuzzy Math”.  So also, when Jesus warns us about judging our neighbor he says, “ For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.”

The Old Adam in us is all about the counting, the reckoning, he keeping track and keeping score.  We are tempted even to do this in our churches.  A whole school of thinking has gripped many churches – which sounds innocuous enough, “Church Growth”.  It even sounds good!  After all, who wouldn’t want their church to grow?  But this misguided movement imports all manner of worldly wisdom, and often uncritically so, in order to grow the church (numerically, at least) at all costs.  Counting, counting, counting – the numbers in the pews, the balance in the bank, the offerings in the plate, the activity of its members.  And if your numbers go in the wrong direction, then surely your church is going in the wrong direction!  There is little room for the idea that faithfulness matters most, even if it means a congregation might numerically wither and die.  There is little room for the idea that spiritual growth, which is often unseen, is far more desirable than numerical growth, which is often deceptive and fleeting.  So beware of the counting, church of God!  Beware of how we measure and mark our ministry here at Messiah.  It’s not wrong to count and track things.  It’s not wrong, either, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, even secular wisdom, to think about these things.  But let us avoid the dangers that lead us away from faithfulness to Christ and his word, and to a worldliness that runs the way of measurable results, which is really only of the law.

Now, we could even say that God also counts.  He marks and notes, carefully records things.  I suppose you could say it’s part of his omniscience – he’s all knowing.  Scripture alludes to this with its talk of “books” that are opened for the final judgment (Revelation 20:12) It’s not like we could ever hope to get away with something that escapes his notice.  Even your “secret sins” are no secret to him.  And if all he considers is justice, that is, what our deeds deserve, then we are in a bad situation to say the least.

But the Psalmist reminds us there is hope:

If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,

    O Lord, who could stand?

But with you there is forgiveness,

    that you may be feared. (Psalm 130:3-4)

But how does this happen?  How is it that God no longer counts our sins, marks our iniquities, or considers all the evil we do and have done?  How is it instead, that we can hope to stand before his judgment seat on the final day and not be condemned?  How is it that with him is forgiveness, that he may be feared?

Of course it’s Jesus.  It’s always Jesus, and that is no surprise to you, dear Christian. 

Jesus is numbered among the transgressors for us.  He is counted as, reckoned as, made to be, even, sin, for us – though he had no sin of his own.  God imputes our sin to Jesus – that is, he transfers the balance of our sin account onto Jesus.  His debt-load of sin becomes immeasurable, and in exchange, our ledger is wiped clean.  The great exchange.  Christ’s righteousness in exchange for our sin.  Christ’s death in place of ours.  Christ’s perfect keeping of the law, credited to us.  Our guilty deeds go to  him, to be put to death in him.  It is marvelous, mysterious counting that runs counter to the reckoning of this world.  It is divine mathematics, and only God can accomplish it.

But again, how does his come to us?  How do all the wonderful things that Jesus has done benefit me, personally?  Here’s where Father Abraham helps to teach us.

Abraham was revered as the great patriarch of the Jewish people.  When Jesus was challenged by the Jews, they appealed to their status, “We are children of Abraham, and have never been slaves of anyone!”  (Well that’s not really true, there was that 400 year episode in Egypt.)  But nonetheless, they looked up to Abraham, and some even considered he was so good, so righteous that he was justified before God by his works!  If that were true, Paul indicates, then he had something to boast about – especially before men, who fail to measure up to that standard.  But Paul quickly dismisses this idea.  Abraham can’t boast before God – who knows even great father Abraham isn’t righteous of himself.

Paul quotes Genesis 15, in which we are told, “Abraham believed God, and God counted it to him as righteousness”.  No, it wasn’t Abraham’s work that counted in the end, or at all.  It certainly wasn’t his lineage (for he came from a pagan background).  It wasn’t his great wealth or family loyalty.  It wasn’t anything else about Abraham that God regarded as righteousness – but his faith.

God counted Abraham righteous – because Abraham believed God’s promises.  And God counts you righteous, child of Abraham, because of your faith in those same promises.  And all of this, for the sake of Jesus Christ.

And what God DOESN’T count against us is our sins.  Paul also quotes David, who writes about it in Psalm 32:

“Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven, and whose sins are covered;

Blessed is the man against whom the Lord will not count his sin.”

And so we are doubly blessed.  God doesn’t count our sins against us.  But he does count our faith as righteousness! 

Now, Abraham looked forward – God’s promises to him were of future blessings.  I’ll give you this land. I’ll make you a great nation. All nations will be blessed through you.  Abraham believes, as was counted righteous, then and there.

These promises find their ultimate fulfillment in Jesus Christ.  Through his blood shed for the forgiveness of sins, and through his life lived for the fulfillment of all righteousness – God brings blessing to all nations. And all who have faith in Christ are counted as children of Abraham.

Your faith looks both backwards and forwards.  You look back to Christ, to his earthly work fulfilled.  You trust in what he has done, and that his words are true, “It is finished”.  You believe in his glorious resurrection, and you confess the faith that has been handed down to you in the church through the ages. 

But like Abraham, you also look forward. You look forward to Christ’s promised return, to the resurrection of the dead, and the life of the world to come.  You look forward to his glorious appearing, to being like him and seeing him as he is.  You look forward to the eternal city from above, to a kingdom that has no end, and to the hand of God wiping every tear from your eye.  You look forward in faith, and God counts that faith in Christ as righteousness.

So keep the faith, Child of Abraham.  Keep the faith, believer in Jesus Christ.  Know that your sins were counted against Jesus, and will not be counted to you.  But that God counts you as righteous for Jesus’ name’s sake.

Sermon - Lent 1 - Matthew 4:1-11

 

Tempted For You

Matthew 4:1-11

A blessed Lent to you.  In this season of penitence and fasting, of meditation and prayer, we tune our spiritual senses more keenly to the struggle with sin.  Temptation.  An experience common to every person, and yes, especially to every Christian.  Hebrews tells us Jesus is not  “unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but… in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin,” and also, “because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.”  So we must consider our own struggles with temptation in the light of Christ’s temptation.

Matthew’s Gospel for today shows us that Jesus himself is tempted during his 40 days in the wilderness.  Tempted by none other than the Devil himself.  As we consider Christ’s temptation today, we can plumb its mysteries and learn from his example, consider our own struggle with temptation, and rejoice in his victory over the devil on our behalf.

The devil is a master of evil and deception.  From the very beginning he has sought to lead man astray, and he doesn’t stop even when it comes to the very Son of God.  The enemy uses every foul device he can, every wicked trick in his collection, and aims them all at Jesus.  We should take careful note of his tactics.

Notice, first, how the devil waited until Jesus was good and hungry, near the end of his fast, at his most vulnerable.

Temptations also come to us in force when we are in a similar weakened state.  Alone, tired, weak.  It may well be the devil who tempts us, or it may be the sinful world or even our own sinful nature.  Temptations are sure to come, whatever the source.  But we do well to flee from temptation and avoid situations where we are vulnerable and weak. 

So, for instance, Christian, don’t isolate yourself from the body of Christ.  For that makes you easier prey.  Stay with the herd, as it were, lest the lion single you out as easy pickings. 

The devil also has the audacity to use God’s word and twist it in with his temptation!  Of course, even in the garden he mixed truth and lies to deceive our first parents.  We do well to watch our doctrine carefully, lest we be led astray but pious-seeming lies into false doctrine and practice.  Don’t fall for pious-sounding lies that lead you astray from Christ and his word.

That the devil is an expert at temptation by no means gives us an excuse for falling into his traps.  God’s law stands, and there is no “devil-made-me-do-it” provision.  Rather than excuse us for falling into temptation, our Lord Jesus forgives us our sins, and then encourages us to go and sin no more. 

Sin is never winked at, it is always deadly serious.  But it is paid for, covered by the blood of Christ.  Likewise the devil is a nasty foe, and we are warned against him – but he is also a defeated foe, both in the wilderness, and better, by the death and resurrection of Christ.

Now, for Jesus’ part – it is a great mystery that he was tempted.  As true God, it is impossible for him to sin.  However, as true man he certainly felt the pressures of temptation.  One commentator writes:

The man who yields to a particular temptation has not felt its full power. He has given in while the temptation has yet something in reserve. Only the man who does not yield to temptation, who, as regards that particular temptation, is sinless, knows the full extent of that temptation.

Certainly the devil pulled out all the stops with Jesus. His temptation was three-fold, which, in Hebrew grammar, at least, indicates the superlative form.  The devil did his worst, and still Jesus prevailed!

First, he tempted him with bread.  The physical, carnal, fleshly needs are real needs.  And the devil is a master at using our creaturly-ness against us.  Food itself, nor any of the needs of the body- none of these are sinful in themselves.  But our use of them is often turned into sinful idolatry.  We place the created things above the Creator.  We abuse his good gifts in ways we ought not. 

But not Jesus.  He subdues his flesh like we cannot.  He rightly orders the spiritual food above the earthly.  He spurns the temptation and embraces the Word of God – “Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”

And Jesus, as the Second Adam, he succeeds exactly where the First Adam failed – the devil tempted Adam to eat the forbidden fruit, and Adam sinned.  The devil tempted Jesus to eat bread during his fast, but Jesus prevailed.

Next, the devil tempts Jesus at the Temple.  “Throw yourself down from the pinnacle – and watch the angels catch you.”  A stunt to test the promises of God?  The enemy always tests God by his poking and prodding, and he tempts us to do the same.

What is the devil tempting Jesus with here, but the easy way out?  If angels carried Christ down from the pinnacle of the temple, to a bedazzled crowd of religious people gathered there – then perhaps they’ll just believe in him on the spot.  “Do a miracle, Jesus, and become the Messiah through glory!  Take the easy way out, and we don’t have to bother with all the messiness of the cross.”  It’s the same talk the devil put into Peter’s mouth after Peter’s great confession.  But Jesus, of course, doesn’t take the bait.  He will not take the path of least resistance, but will go headlong into trials, suffering, and cross. He rebukes the satanic suggestion otherwise.

How often are we tempted with the easy way… the path of least resistance… tempted to flee from suffering at all costs, at the cost of our integrity, our faithfulness, and at the cost of not truly loving our neighbor? Jesus again does well where we do not.

Finally the devil takes Jesus to a high mountain and shows him the kingdoms of the world.  “All these are mine,” he says.  Another half-truth.  He’s the prince of this world, but he is a thief and a liar.  They don’t really belong to him.  “And I will give them to you, if you just bend the knee to me.  Worship me.”  And it’s preposterous, of course.  Jesus would never.

But we do.  And for far less.  Whenever we turn from our true Master we serve that other master.  Whenever put aside our sonship and become slaves to sin.  When we sell our birthright for a bowl of something or other, whatever little slice of the kingdom of this world the devil has on offer.

But Jesus is the true king, the true master, the true Lord of the Nations.  He sends forth his apostles to make disciples of all nations through the humble means of baptism and teaching his word.  Thus he establishes his kingdom – through the preaching of the Gospel, and by the work of the Spirit.

Christ defeats the devil, and all his temptations, not only as an example for us.  But he also does it in our place.  Just as he took our place in his baptism to fulfill all righteousness.  Just as he takes our place on the cross, to atone for the sins of the world.  So Jesus takes our place in the wilderness, under the assaults of the evil one, to defeat him for us.  To ever, always do what we cannot do for ourselves, and to win the victory on our behalf.

Jesus undoes, therefore, everything that went wrong in the Garden of Eden. 

There in the garden, the devil won the day.  Here, in the wilderness, the devil must flee with his tail between his legs. 

There, the devil deceived the woman, and she led her husband along.  Here, Christ cannot be led astray. 

There, sin and death came into the world, and Adam gave Satan a share in his dominion, even lordship in this world.  But now the true king has arrived, and he takes it all back and leaves the devil with nothing. 

Adam was exiled from the garden and cast into the wilderness.  Jesus goes to the wilderness to bring us back to paradise with himself. 

All the world was cursed by the sin of Adam, but by bearing the curse of the cross, Jesus brings us blessing. 

By a tree, the devil overcame – but now by the tree of the cross the devil is undone.

A blessed Lent, dear Christians.  May you ever fight the good fight against temptation, and follow as closely as you can the footsteps of Jesus who has gone before us.  And when you fall, repent again, and turn in faith to the one who has crushed the serpent – in the wilderness, and at the cross – and know that your victory is sure through him.

 

 

Sermon - The Transfiguration of Our Lord - Matthew 17:1-9

“Seeing God”

The Transfiguration of Our Lord is one of those prominent occasions in the Gospels, and in the Church Year.  Jesus takes the three apostles up the mountain, his appearance is changed – he becomes all bright and shiny.  Moses and Elijah appear.  There’s a cloud.  Then the voice from heaven, “This is my Son. Listen to him.” And as quickly as it began, it’s over.  Peter’s nonsensical jabbering aside, it is a glorious event.  It is a spectacular sight.  It is a peek at the true glory of Christ that had thus far in his life remained hidden.  And it brought to bear the witness of both the Old Testament spokesmen and the very voice of the Father in testimony of Jesus as the Son of God, the Savior, the Christ.

I’ve pondered this event, as I am sure many of you have, year after year.  It’s a treasure trove of depth and meaning.  There are so many significant details, it’s impossible to cover everything.  Today I want to focus especially on the aspect of the transfiguration that has to do with what the disciples saw.  Their eyewitness account.  And why seeing it with them matters, also to us.

Seeing, along with hearing, is a key concept in Holy Scripture.  Often times we are commanded to “behold!”, that is, “look, and see!” something of great importance.  Now, of course, none of us were there to see any of the Bible’s events, but we can see them through the eyes of faith, and witness them along with the writers who proclaim the word to us.  This is why their eyewitness account is so crucial.  

Peter makes a point of this in our Epistle reading.  “We didn’t make up a bunch of clever myths.  We were eyewitnesses of these things!”  Jesus instructed the three disciples not to tell anyone the vision” until after his resurrection.  But now, Peter reflects on that sight, and writes about it in today’s Epistle.  

It is a basic Scriptural standard that “every matter must be confirmed by 2 or 3 witnesses”, according to Deuteronomy 19, Jesus rightly took the 3 up the mountain with him for the very purpose of them witnessing what would happen.  But many others served as witnesses to the important events of Jesus’ work:  So also Jesus gave “many convincing proofs” to the hundreds of disciples who would see him – alive – after his resurrection.  John testifies poignantly about the blood and water that came from Jesus’ side, proof that he truly died.  And countless others in the great cloud of witnesses tell us what they have seen and heard.  We do well to “behold!” it all, through them.

We  dare not put God to the test like doubting Thomas, “I won’t believe it if I don’t see it!”  Yet, still we ought to appreciate that God has provided for us these eyewitnesses so that even though we weren’t there, and we don’t see first-hand, still we may believe.  The witness of Holy Scripture is how the eyes of faith see… as the Spirit works through this testimony to enliven and strengthen our faith.  He who has ears to hear, thus, also, has eyes to see.  

So what did Peter, James and John see?  They saw the Lord Jesus transfigured.  His appearance changed – from his normal, everyday Jesus, to a bright-shining glorified Jesus.  He gives them a peek behind the veil, as it were, to see a glimpse of the true glory that is his – glory of the one and only, Son of God, beloved of the Father.  In a word, they saw Jesus as God.

Now, John would later write in his Gospel, “No one has ever seen God; the only God, who is at the Father’s side, he has made him known.”  In other words, though no one has ever seen the Father, we only know the Father through the Son.

This is worth pondering.  Who could see God face to face and live?  Certainly not a sinful man like you or me.  God’s holiness is radiant and all-consuming.  For us, in our sins, to stand in his presence would be like bringing a sheet of notebook paper up close to the Sun.  We can’t even get that close.  God is holy and he hates sin, and there is no place for sinners anywhere near his presence.

Remember when Isaiah saw God (in a vision!) and his first reaction was to exclaim, “Woe to me, I am ruined… for I am a man of unclean lips… and I have seen God!”  Such is the reaction of any unholy, unclean, unworthy creature when faced with the divine glory of the Incomprehensible!

But it is a different thing to see God in the face of his Son, Jesus Christ.  What a kind, loving face that is.  A face that is one of our own.  A smile that invites us to follow him, learn from him, be fed by him.  We behold Jesus in the gospels as one who loved all people, had great compassion, and gave his time and energy freely to the crowds of people who clamored for him – sheep without a shepherd.  But he alone is the Good Shepherd, and would lay down his life for the sheep.

Mostly, we see him in humility.  Born in humble circumstances.  Growing up and asking questions, learning like we do. As a man, itinerant, nowhere to lay his head.  Scorned by his enemies, betrayed and abandoned by his friends.  Arrested and imprisoned, flogged and crucified.  Most of what we see of Jesus isn’t that impressive to earthly eyes.

But there’s this glimpse of glory on the mount.  There’s this shining moment, in which just a bit of his true brilliance shows through.  You could say that Jesus really is the Son of God, but to see him dazzling like the sun, says it in a way words cannot.  It must have made quite an impression on Peter, James, and John.  It was, in a word, glorious.

What a blessing for us, through the Gospels, to have a look over their shoulders as they beheld the transfigured glory of Christ.  But as great as it was, this glory was not for basking in.  There was no time to set up tents and stay a while.  This was a glimpse.  It was a short and sweet glance behind the veil, for a very specific purpose.

Did you notice that Matthew’s account begins, “six days after this”?  Any time we see such a remark, it’s good to ask, “after what?”  What connection of context is there for us to consider?  And this one is very telling:

Six days before the Transfiguration, Peter made his great confession that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the Living God!  Jesus commended him for this answer, which he received not from flesh and blood, but from the Father!  And then Jesus proceeded to explain exactly what it meant for him to be the Christ.  It meant suffering, betrayal, arrest, death, and resurrection.  It was more than Peter could stand to hear, and he tried to rebuke Jesus.  But Jesus called Peter Satan, and rebuked him instead.  Nothing would deter Jesus from his mission.  Nothing would stop him from facing the cross.  Nothing would distract him from dying for Peter’s sins, for everyone’s sins, for yours and mine.

Good Friday would be a dark day – figuratively and literally.  It would be hard to see the glory that was hidden in the bloody, sweaty, agonizing sacrifice of Jesus.  It had the appearance of the opposite of glory.  It looked all wrong.  But there in the back of their minds, was the Transfiguration.  A reminder to them, and perhaps even more so to us, that with God, things aren’t always as they appear.  Humble Jesus is really the glorious Son of God.  The shameful, mournful, sorrow of the cross – is really the greatest work of God, the great and glorious work of his Son, the redemption of the world, the crux of history, and the height of God’s love shown forth in the strangest and most blessed way.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Behold his transfiguration.  Behold his crucifixion.  Behold his resurrection.  We behold him now, through the word, and by our faith.

And one day, we will see not just with the eyes of faith, but as Job says, with my own eyes, I will see – I and not another.  We will see him face to face and be with him in our own resurrection.  How glorious that will be!  

Sermon - Epiphany 5 - Matthew 5:13-20 (especially 17-20)

 

Matthew 5:13-20 (especially 17-20)

Fulfill the Law

17 “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. 18 For truly, I say to you, until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law until all is accomplished. 19 Therefore whoever relaxes one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 20 For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Unless you’re more righteous than the Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.  Well.  How’s that going for you?

The Pharisees, if they were known for one thing, it was their righteousness.  Held high as the standards of holy living, the Pharisees were the models of virtue for all of the regular, old, every-day Jews of Jesus’ time.  It might be like if someone today were to compare you to a Mother Theresa with the poor in Calcutta, or a Jimmy Carter who builds homes for homeless people.  They were thought of as the best of the best, they were admired above all, and their earthly riches were seen by many as a reward for their good lives.

But you and I know better, of course.  We know the dark side of the Pharisees – how they operated in the land of legalism, and made a pretense of doing good while devouring the homes of widows.  How they made a show of their righteousness, in order to be seen by men.  And perhaps worst of all – how they opposed the very Messiah himself, and conspired to have him put to death.  No, in another sense, from our view, the Pharisee’s level of righteousness isn’t very hard to exceed at all.  You’d just have to not be an absolute scoundrel to qualify.

But Jesus isn’t trying to relax the law for us.  He means that our righteousness should be tip-top.  Better than even the popular perception of the Pharisees.  Better than the zenith of man-made righteousness.  In fact he says anyone who even just relaxes the law will be least in the kingdom.  He wants his law taken seriously, and followed.  Not just in an outward sense.  Not just to be seen by men.  He wants the law kept in thought, word and deed, not just deeds. 

That’s what Isaiah writes about in our Old Testament reading – false fasting.  Doing only the outward show of good when the heart isn’t in it.  And you can tell, because they do the religious good works for show, but they turn around and mistreat the poor.  It would be like people who are “good church going people” on the outside, but on the inside they are just as petty and petulant as the next sinner.  They treat each other with contempt and only look out for their own good.  And the true good works of loving their neighbor don’t match up with their supposed “good religious character”.  God is not mocked.  He sees through it all.

But it gets even worse for us.  He wants his law followed perfectly, in its entirety, not in a horseshoes and hand grenades, close-enough-is-good-enough sort of way.  Keep the commandments!  Love God perfectly.  Love your neighbor as yourself.  Have no other gods, don’t misuse God’s Name or despise his word.  Respect authority, cherish life, love your family.  Look out for your neighbor’s stuff, and even his good name.  And don’t even think about taking what is his, but be content.

So again, I might ask, how’s that going for you?  Does your righteousness exceed that of the Pharisees?  Are you all about keeping the law, or do you relax it on yourself?  Are you following all the commandments all the time?  Or is an iota here and a dot there just a bit too much for you?  So get out your law-eraser!

And do you, in word or action, teach others to do the same?  How would someone looking at your life describe your keeping of the law, if they followed you around with a camera and recorded your words and deeds?

Do you act as if God’s holy and eternal law is something of no consequence, something you can bend and break at will, something you can ignore or rewrite to suit your fancy and circumstance?  How do you compare to it?  Or do you even bother, usually?

If we are honest with ourselves we will see and say and confess that of ourselves, none of us is righteous enough or righteous at all.  And that means that the kingdom of heaven is out of our reach.  That means that each of us is least in the kingdom.  It means that we are just as bad off as the Pharisees we love to mock and critique.  It means we are lost.

But then there is Jesus.  Jesus, who kept the law.  Who didn’t come to abolish it, but fulfill it.  And he did that in so many ways.

He fulfilled the law, first, by keeping every commandment perfectly, all the time, in every way.  That’s hard for us to even imagine, but that is what he did.  He was like us in every way yet without sin. 

That means he never had any other Gods but the one true God.  He never misused or dishonored God’s name or Word.  A perfect relationship with God, always trusting and loving and never disobeying his Father.  No idols.  No false worship.  Satan tried to tempt him that way – with an offer of all the kingdoms of the world!  But Jesus knew and obeyed the first commandment, and quoted it to the enemy, “You shall worship the Lord your God and him alone”.

And he always loved his neighbor – honoring his parents, submissive to them and all other authorities (even those who put him to death). 

Not only did he “not murder”, but he cared perfectly for the lives of all those around him – having great compassion on the sick and diseased, healing them. 

He was always faithful to his Bride, the church.  And he remains faithful to her even now.  He gives up everything for her, with his own blood he bought her, and for her life he died. 

He never took what wasn’t his (for all belongs to him anyway), but had nowhere to lay his head, no earthly riches, no ill-gotten gains.  And he always spoke truly and kindly, gracious words for the benefit of any who had ears to hear, never a false witness, but words of Spirit and truth.

Jesus did all things well.  He perfectly obeyed his Father’s will in all things, even to the end.  The cup wouldn’t pass from him, the cup of wrath for all sin.  Death would not Passover him, the true Lamb of God.  He humbled himself even unto death, and even death on a cross. 

And along the way, he fulfilled everything written about in the Law and the Prophets.  He was born of a virgin, born in Bethlehem.  He was a son of David, also called a Nazarene.  He healed and cast out demons.  He preached good news to the poor.  He came to his own city humble and riding a donkey.  He bore our griefs, this man of sorrows, and became the Suffering Servant upon whom was laid the iniquity of us all.  He rose on the third day, showing forth the sign of Jonah, and ascended to the Father who makes all his enemies his footstool.  He even pours out his Spirit on all flesh, as the prophet Joel wrote, and he establishes his church, and sends his word and witnesses out even to the ends of the earth.

All of this fulfilling of the law – both the commandments and the prophecies – all of this Jesus does, for you, dear Christian.  Everything Jesus does, he does for you.  His incarnation as a man – literally every breath he takes – he didn’t have to do it, but he did it out of love for his fallen creation, yes, even, for you.  He fulfills all, for you, his rebellious subject, his wandering sheep, his wayward, wondering, creature.  And he turns the tables on all your law-breaking.  It is finished.

Or to put it another way, in Christ, you are more righteous than the Pharisees.  And the kingdom of heaven is yours.  For he takes away all your law-breaking, and he gives you his perfect righteousness.  He fulfills all righteousness for you, and me, and for all.

What is left for us to do then?  Nothing for salvation, that’s been done.  Nothing to fix anything with God; Jesus has done it all.  All that’s left for us is love.  Love God, love neighbor.  Fulfill the law as best we can, with the power of his Spirit.  Fulfill the law for the sake of love and nothing more.  Because that’s what Christians do.

So go and sin no more.  Keep the law.  For Christ has fulfilled it for you.  Love God, who loves you.  And love your neighbor, too.