Transitioning...

Dear friends and long time blog readers,

Grace and peace to you in Christ.  These are exciting times for our family, as I have accepted a call to serve as "Strategic Mission Developer" for the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod.  I will be serving as missionary to Singapore, and planting a brand new congregation there.

These six months or so, from the end of my service at my congregation until our family's deployment overseas, will be spent gathering a network of supporters - both congregations and individuals.

I will be maintaining this blog, with perhaps more frequent updates, and also changing the format to reflect my new role.

Here is the link to my first newsletter:  http://www.pdfhost.net/index.php?Action=Download&File=8db8243765ed9e8b3f5f6348b0b536cc

Sermon - Pentecost 9 - Genesis 9:8-17

Pentecost 9

Genesis 9:8-17

You've probably never heard a sermon about the rainbow. You probably learned the colors in order as a child, “ROY G. BIV”. And maybe you've seen it throughout your life decorating everything from hot air balloons to scratch-n-sniff stickers. Dorothy traveled “somewhere over the rainbow”. And folk legends say that leprechauns and their pots of gold await at the rainbow's end.

Sadly, today the rainbow has been assumed as a symbol of something that is at odds with God. It has become the symbol of pride in a lifestyle that turns God's created order on its head. But we should not let this beautiful and precious symbol of God's promise go unused by us for that reason. It's is, first of all, God's symbol.

Genesis 9 takes us to the day just after the flood of Noah, when God made a covenant with the ark-builder and his sons. A one-way deal, really, more like a promise. “Never again shall all flesh be cut off by the waters of the flood, and never again shall there be a flood to destroy the earth”.

The world had become wicked. Genesis tells us the thoughts of man's heart were “only evil all the time”. One can only imagine what that means. I suspect it was a time of lawlessness and rebellion, a chaos that we can't entirely imagine. Perhaps an entire world of false worship, violence, and smut of the worst kind. Imagine Sodom and Gamorrah on steroids, everywhere. God is patient. He is slow to anger. What great evil must it have taken to actually grieve God that he had created man in the first place?

So he cleansed this wickedness, quite literally, by washing it all away. He sent a massive world-wide flood to set the clock back, and start afresh. And he wiped out all of mankind, and he did so justly. None survived the devastation but Noah and his family, that is, his three sons and all four wives. Eight souls in all.

God made war on mankind, you could say. He unleashed the fury of his creation against them. He opened the windows of the sky and the fountains of the deep. His destruction spanned the entire earth, so broad was the scope.

But now, the flood is receding. The rain stopped, the ground is drying. The slate is clean and Noah and his family are safe, ready to begin anew populating the world. The warfare of the flood is over. God sets down his bow – his weapon of war. And it's peaceful colors span the entire sky, just as his promise to never bring a world-wide flood again span all time. The face of God's anger has now turned, and he shows mercy.

The same God of both justice and mercy is our God. The same God who hated the wickedness of the world, and destroyed it, showed mercy to faithful Noah and his family, and brought them through the worst of it. The same God who brought both bad news for sinners, also brings good news for believers in his promise, through Christ.

Jesus Christ, who calms storms and walks on water. Jesus Christ, the living word, agent of God's creation, who divided sky from water on day 2, and land from water on day 3. Jesus Christ, who was baptized in the Jordan for us, turned water into wine, washed his disciples feet. As he thirsted for our salvation, he faced death on the cross, and from his pierced side came blood and water. From him springs forth the water of life, which quenches our thirst forever. Jesus Christ, in whom we are baptized, buried into death and raised to new life.

The flood of Noah, which drowned sinful humanity, pointed to the blessed flood of Holy Baptism, which drowns our sinful nature, our Old Adam. Perhaps you are familiar with this connection because of the “flood prayer” of Martin Luther, which is now included in our baptismal rite.

It's true, we need cleansing. Your sin – my sin, is just as damnable as the sin of the wicked world before the great flood. We are conceived and born in sin. We sin by our actions and inactions. We trample the commandments. We despise God and hate our neighbor. We fail to do what we ought, and we do what we ought not do. We are, of ourselves, only evil all the time. The Old Adam in us is brought forth in his father's image, a shattered image smeared with the muck of sin. Our need for cleansing, body and soul, the same. Only let us, in faith, find refuge in the blood of Christ and in our baptism, and in the mercy of the one who has set down his bow.

God will never destroy the world again with a flood. But this world will end, as Jesus warns, and it will happen soon. The ancient church fathers used the rainbow as a reminder of this warning, as the colors move from blue to red, so too the destruction of water is behind us, but the coming destruction by fire is ahead. This world will melt away. Fire will consume the wicked, when God's righteous judgment is unleashed once more on that day.

But as Noah and his family were preserved, so too will Christ preserve us on that day. For those who belong to him, whose hope is in him, there is nothing to fear from any disaster, calamity, or even the end of the world. Christ is always with us, always over us, always for us.

His cross stands as the symbol of his promise for us, that the warfare is over. This instrument of death has become our source of life. A symbol even more beautiful than the rainbow. A promise more expansive and long-standing. Never again will our sins stand against us. Never again will God hold us accountable, for Christ has paid the account in full. Never again need we fear the wrath of God, for Jesus has spoken. It is finished.

Luther writes,

Our merciful God always placed some outward and visible sign of His grace alongside the Word, so that men, reminded by the outward sign and work or Sacrament, would believe with greater assurance that God is kind and merciful. Thus after the Flood the rainbow appeared in order to serve as a convincing proof that in the future God would not give vent to His wrath against the world by a similar punishment…To us in the New Testament, Baptism and the Eucharist have been given as visible signs of grace, so that we might firmly believe that our sins have been forgiven through Christ’s suffering and that we have been redeemed by His death

Whatever clouds gather on your horizon, whatever rain and storm mark your life in these days, whatever flood waters threaten to overwhelm you.... remember the rainbow, and the promise of God's mercy. Remember your baptism, which cleanses you and connects you to Christ. And remember his cross, where eternal promises are rooted, and where divine blood was shed to seal you in them forever. And remember him as you receive his true body and blood this day, for your forgiveness and salvation.

Sermon - Pentecost 7 - July 15th, 2012

Sermon - Mark 6:1-10 - Pentecost 6

Mark 6:1-10

Pentecost 6

“The Wow Factor”

You know, I like to keep up on the lingo. Not because I'm cool at all, but I think language is fun, and I like using new expressions. One newer expression you might have heard or used is when something is said to have a “wow factor”. It's a very descriptive way of saying it – that something is astonishing or amazing, even unbelievable.

The Grand Canyon has a wow-factor. A gourmet meal might have a wow-factor. An amazing basketball shot from half-court – there's a wow-factor. But the wow-factors in the Bible are way more wow-ish.

Today's reading from Mark has a couple of wow-factor moments. Jesus goes back to his home town, Nazareth. And with Jesus, there comes a wow-factor. He was doing amazing things. Healing, casting out demons. Astonishing, so far out of the box... and even moreso, he was teaching like no one else, with a wisdom and authority that brought astonishment to his hearerhs – another wow-factor. But that's when things turn....

They did not react the way you'd expect. They did not greet him joyfully, and turn to him in faith. They didn't even show him respect. Those people from the Nazareth synagogue were astonished by Jesus, but in a very different way. Their reaction: to take offense.

“Who does this guy think he is? Come in here, doing all these miracles, teaching all these things.... where does he get all this? He's no better than we are – we know his family, he grew up right here. We know what they whisper about how Mary was already pregnant before Jospeh married her. Sure, he's always been a little different, but he's one of us, and no one special. Who does he think he is, anyway?”

They are indignant. No doubt because Jesus was clearly calling sinners to repentance, like he so often did. No doubt these old “friends and neighbors” of his didn't take kindly to him calling them out for their sin. No one likes it, really, to have our sins pointed out. People often take offense at that.

But the law offends. In fact, it kills. And it kills us, too.

But that's not the only astonishment in our reading. The next wow-factor is even more astonishing – because it is Jesus who is amazed. He “marveled because of their unbelief”. I, for one, find it pretty amazing that even Jesus is amazed.

But it is amazing that people would reject what Jesus brings. Yes, he must have showed them their sin. But surely he also held out the promise, the invitation to come to him for mercy. Like he offered living water to the woman at the well. Like he offered new birth by water and spirit to Nicodemus. Like he called his own disciples, and prostitutes and tax collectors to trust in him and follow him. Like he had compassion on so many other sinners in their weaknesses and frailties and sins.

And yet, amazingly, some would reject such a gift. Some would, and some do, even today, turn a blind eye to his salvation, and a deaf ear to his word. I'm sure Jesus is still amazed at the lack of belief in our world. At the growing godlessness of a nation too wrapped up in everything but Christ. At the number of Christians who fall away and neglect the Sabbath day. At the bibles dusty from lack of use. At the churches that sit empty, while the bars and sports stadiums expand and multiply. This world is a mess. Sin, death, and the devil are having a field day. It's really rather amazing.

But here's some more wow-factor for ya. Look at the lengths Jesus will go to bring his salvation. Not just being rejected by his hometown synagogue, but much more. He will go to the cross. He willingly, of his own accord, lays down his life. He drinks the cup of God's wrath – for sinners – for all sins of all times – wow – even your sins. And God turns his back on Jesus. Wow. How does that even happen? And then, wonder of all, God, in the person of Jesus Christ, dies. The creator dies for the creature. He dies for you. What should wow you about that is his great love, that would go so far to save you, to forgive you.

Pile on some more wow-factor with the resurrection. And the Ascension. And the promise of our own resurrection, and our own joyful life with God forever. Wow. Think of what's in store for us, and be truly amazed.

Yes, with Jesus, there's constant amazement. And while some of it is unbelief, some of it is faith. While many will reject him, thanks be to God that by the power of the Spirit, we believers receive his amazing gifts with wonder.

There are many amazing things about this faith we have received. How can God be three and one? How can Jesus be God and Man? How can we be sinners, and yet saints? How can water do such great things in Baptism? How can Jesus' body and blood be truly here in the meal for each of us? And how can he forgive even sinners like me? Who is this guy?

We know, from the word, by the Spirit, that this wisdom comes from his Father in heaven. For he is the only-begotten son. And through him, all our offenses before God are nullified. By his cross, he does amazing things. And in his gifts, we are constantly wowed.

And it's also worth nothing the last section of our reading, where Jesus sends out the 12. Who are they, of all people, but a rag tag band of fishermen and ne'er do-wells? Amazing, astonishing that he should give them authority to preach and do miracles in his name. But he does much the same today, as he sends pastors to preach and administer the sacraments in his name, and as he sends all of us in our vocations to bear his name as witnesses to the world – witnesses of the amazing, wonderful, astonishing, marvelous things we have seen and heard and received, from Jesus Christ our Lord. Wow. He calls us, but he also sends us. Just, wow.

When it comes to Jesus, our words fail. But the Gospel never does. Even if some reject it, the wow-factor of his love and mercy remain. Thanks be to God for all of this, in Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Announcement of Divine Call

I read the following letter to my congregation this morning.  I post it here for the information of all, likewise asking for your prayers during my deliberation.

My Dear Friends in Christ at Grace Lutheran, Racine,

 

I have received a divine call through the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod's Board for International Mission to serve as a Strategic Mission Developer in the South Asia region.

 

Some of the details are unclear at this point, but I would either be serving as a theological educator in Indonesia or a church-planter in Singapore . In any case, there's plenty of work to do in this region of the world, where Lutheranism faces great challenges and opportunities.

 

Over the next few weeks I will be prayerfully deliberating the call. Please keep me and my family in your prayers as we seek to discern how (and where) to best serve God in His kingdom.

 

We'll also be attending a “New Missionary Orientation” in St. Louis for the next 2 weeks. This will give us lots of information should I accept the call to serve as missionary, but is not a guarantee or commitment that I will do so.

 

I plan to announce my final decision to either accept or decline this call on Sunday, July 29^th.

 

We welcome any questions you have about the process, the possibilities, and the details of the opportunity which is before us. But most of all we ask your prayers for us – that God would grant us wisdom toward our decision, and peace with whatever the outcome may be.

Sermon - John 3:1-17 - Holy Trinity

John 3:1-17

Holy Trinity Sunday

I don't know about you but I have really been enjoying these readings from the Gospel of John this past month or so. John has a way of getting at the mysteries of God in a simple but profound way. Here, on Trinity Sunday, we again hear from John – relating a conversation with Nicodemus, who comes to Jesus one night.

Nicodemus was a pharisee, a teacher of Israel, a religious authority of his day. We don't know exactly why he came to Jesus at night, but it was likely out of some sort of embarrassment, so as not to be seen by his peers. At this point, it doesn't appear Nicodemus has come to faith in Christ. Later in John 7, he appears, defending Jesus from the other Pharisees, who wished to arrest Jesus without a fair hearing. And finally we see Nicodemus at the death of Jesus, with Joseph of Arimathea, bringing spices to honor our Lord in burial. Joseeph is said to be a disciple of Jesus, but secretly for fear of the Jews, and it seems by that point Nicodemus was in the same vein.

Perhaps it was this nighttime conversation with Jesus in John 3 that sets Nicodemus down that road. And so today we can sit with the teacher of Israel at the feet of the greatest Teacher. Today we too, ponder the mysteries of a God who so loved the world that he sends his only Son. And on this Trinity Sunday, we can also see in Jesus' teaching the importance of our Triune God's work in and among his people.

The Father creates us, gives us our flesh. From the world we inhabit to the air we breathe to the lungs that inhale it, we owe our existence to the Father, the creator of all things visible and invisible. But here is where we have a problem, too, for the flesh he created, we corrupted. We are born, but born into sin. Flesh gives birth to flesh. Sinful Adam brings for a son in his own sinful image, and so on and son on, right down to Nicodemus, and to you and me. We are outside the kingdom of God, outsiders from our very Father in heaven. Sin separates, perverts, and kills. Creation is broken, and death reigns in each of us. The world is a mess. The world is perishing. But the Father loves the world, and so sends his Son.

You know this, because you live in the world. You know this because you, too, participate in the sins you've inherited from Adam. You know well the Father of lies, who reigns in this world, and gleefully cheers you on to sin. You know well the burden and confusion sin brings. You confess it each week as we gather in this place. A poor, miserable sinner, sinning in thought, word and deed. You are just as much a part of the world as the next sinner. Just as much in need of a savior. Don't be fooled by thinking that “sinner” always means some other sinner, or even the rest of the world. When the word speaks of sin, it always speaks of me, of you.

“For God so loved the world” isn't “for God loved the world SO much”, but “This is how God loved the world.... In this way God loved the world.... that he sent his Son”. Jesus is not just the expression of how much God loves us, but he is the very way that God loves us. He is the expression of God's love for a fallen world. And there is no other way to the Father's love.

To receive it, Jesus says, to enter this kingdom of the Father, we must be born again. Nicodemus takes this literally. But others miss the point, too, making such born-again-ness into a work you can do. How many times have other Christians asked, “brother, are you born again?” And a Lutheran doesn't know what to say. Or a survey asks us to check a box, “born-again Christian” and we bite our lip, wondering. What they often mean is a conversion experience, a watershed moment in which we make a decision or commitment to turn to God. Pray a certain prayer, feel a certain feeling... and make the appropriate testimony of such. Oh and then be baptized to show it.

But this gets it wrong. We must listen closely to what Jesus says. “Be born”. It's passive language. And isn't birth always passive? What child decided to be born from his mother's womb, anyway? So too with Baptism. A gift received from God. A washing of sins that God does to you and for you. A rebirth of renewal in the Holy Spirit, that God provides and enacts and initiates. This is the “born again-ness” that we Lutherans confess, and receive. Are you born again? Yes, in baptism. The free gift of God in Christ.

How can a man do this? How can a man enter into his mother's womb and be born again? Of course he can't. Even more impossible is that he can be freed from sin and made wholly clean and perfect before God. Of course he can't, on his own. But with God all things are possible. And in baptism, that's just what he does.

And we are baptized in the name of the Trinue God. The only God. Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This is a great mystery. But like all the other mysteries of our faith, it is not to be fully understood but simply received and confessed, believed and cherished. I can't explain it to you. I can only say what Scripture says. God is three in one, and one in three. But his three-ness and his one-ness is for you. And you bear his triune name upon you – sealed by water, word, and Spirit. And in this name you have eternal life.

The Catechism explains that our Baptism is also a daily rebirth –

“It signifies that the old Adam in us should, by daily contrition and repentance, be drowned and die with all sins and evil lusts, and, again, a new man daily come forth and arise; who shall live before God in righteousness and purity forever.

Where is this written?--Answer.

St. Paul says in Romans, chapter 6: We are buried with Christ by Baptism into death, that, like as He was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.”

By the work of the Holy Spirit, who creates faith and works in Baptism, we receive the “goods” of Christ's death and resurrection. For the Son of Man, Jesus, was lifted up. He was sent so that the whoever believes would not perish but have eternal life. He is the one who comes from Heaven, the only one with the credentials to know all about salvation and to actually accomplish it for all. Yes, for all. No matter your origin or your sins along the way. No matter whether you are a teacher of Israel or a prostitute, a tax collector or pharisee. Young or old, wise or fool. There's plenty of room at the feet of the rabbai and at the font of rebirth. So live in your baptism, you sinners, reborn. And live in Christ and his Spirit, to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Sermon - Pentecost Sunday - Ezekiel 37:1-14

Ezekiel 37:1-14

Sunday of Pentecost

A blessed Pentecost Sunday to you. Today is an important day in the church calendar, perhaps the third most important. After Easter (including Holy Week), and Christmas, the Sunday of Pentecost is one of the chief festivals we observe each year.

Some have said that Good Friday and Easter, as a unit, especially correspond to the work of the Son, Jesus Christ. And that Christmas corresponds to the work of the Father, who sent his Son into the flesh. But Pentecost is certainly the day in which we highlight the work of the Holy Spirit.

It was on the first Christian Pentecost that the Spirit was poured out on the believers, empowering them to speak the Gospel in languages they never learned. And so it is also considered the birthday of the Christian Church, a major turning point in the New Testament, and in God's plan for his people.

We learn from God's Word that the Holy Spirit is a person, like the Father and Son, of the Godhead. He is associated with the forgiveness of sins, the creation of faith, and the calling and gathering of the church. He is sent by the Father and the Son as a helper, comforter, and to bring light or understanding. He is, in a way, mysterious, like the wind – you can't see him but you can see his working. But the Spirit's work is not apart from the Word and Sacraments. He doesn't simply work in us, out of the blue, apart from these promised means of grace.

And as we get toward our text from Ezekiel, we can see one more aspect of the Spirit's work: He is the Lord and Giver of Life, as we confess in the Nicene Creed. Yes, the word, “Spirit” means wind, or breath – and the same Spirit who breathed into Adam's nostrils the breath of life, the same Spirit who will breathe into our flesh the breath of eternal life on the last day, is the same Spirit here pictured in Ezekiel's vision of the dry bones.

Take a look at that valley with Ezekiel. A vast army of dead, very dead people. Not freshly slain soldiers, among whom you might find some living but injured survivors. No they are quite dead. Not merely dead, but really most sincerely dead. Dead and decayed, just bones left, and dry ones at that. They are not even close to alive.

Kind of like you, in your sins. In fact, just like you, in your sins. Sometimes visions like this paint an even truer picture of reality than our eyes do. Just like the Israelites of Ezekiel's day were a hopeless and defeated nation with no life left in them, exiled to Babylon, powerless, hopeless, as good as dead. So are you, and so is every sinner, who may look alive but is very much dead in sin.

That valley of dry bones is the human condition apart from God. Just as dead and hopeless. Just as far from life and breath as anything. Might as well be a rock or some dirt. Your everyday experience tells you you're alive and just fine. But God's word shows the true reality. Sin brings death. It clings to us. It infects every part of us. We are dead men and women walking. Because we are sinners who sin daily and sin much. And no matter how hard the skeleton tries, it can't come to life. No matter how hard, you, the sinner, try, you can't come to life. What we need is a miracle. A divine intervention.

And God is in the business of doing just that. From death he brings life. From the cross, first and foremost. There in the hopeless, helpless, death of Jesus on the cross, he brings help and hope and life to all people. There in the valley of the shadow of death, Jesus dies to bring the light that chases away death forever. And as his dead flesh would rise to life again, so does he bring life to dead sinners who die in him.

Ezekiel's vision wasn't without hope, because he had God's word. The prophet spoke, by God's command and promise, to the wind, that is, the Spirit. Who came and brought life to those lifeless bones. Just as the pastor speaks the word of God to lifeless sinners, and the Spirit works through that word to bring life to you again. The valley of dry bones is a vision of how God works in all times and places, bringing life to the dead, through word and spirit, because of the life from the dead won by his Son at the cross.

As a pastor, I could look out on you, the people in my care, and see a pile of bones – sinners who are hopeless and struggling with all their own faults and failings, grieved by the sorrows of living in a world where death reigns. You tell me your troubles, and I listen, but I usually can't do anything much about it. It's like Ezekiel looking at a femur and a skull. The troubles can be so much. And I am just a man.

But I have one thing for you, and it is enough. Not my word, but his. Now hear this, you dried up and dried out dead people: Jesus Christ has died and Jesus Christ lives and Jesus Christ promises you new life. So hear the Gospel, now, and live! Hear the life-giving word of the Spirit, who creates life where there was only death. Hear the life-renewing hope and the sin-forgiving declaration. You are not dead. You are not lost. You are forgiven. You are in Christ, and Christ is alive. So, too, do you live through him!

You are baptized. There you first rose from the death of sin to new life in Christ. And one day your flesh will die, only to rise again because of the promise of Christ. The fanciful picture of dry bones coming back together, and breathing the breath of life again – is not so fanciful compared to the promise of the last day. That at the trumpet call of God the dead in Christ will rise and meet him face to face, in a glorified body, and see him as he is, being like him. This is our hope. This is our destiny.

Son of man, can these bones live? Yes. Can Christ conquer death and live? Yes. Can he, does he, promise the same for you? Yes. So believe it, and live in him always. Amen.

Sermon - Easter 6 - John 15:9-17

John 15:9-17

Sixth Sunday of Easter

Love. Love is in the air. With wedding season upon us, there's plenty of opportunity to talk about love. But Jesus isn't talking about romantic love here in John 15, but the self-sacrificing love he has for us, and calls us to have for each other.

Perhaps Mothers' Day, too, is a good day to thing about this kind of love. For mothers often sacrifice of themselves for the good of their children. We give thanks to God for the good gift of mothers, and we honor them especially today. But even more important that our love for mom or her love for us, is the love of Christ for all.

There's lots to love about our Gospel reading this morning... as we listen to Jesus' teaching about love.

Love begins with the Father. The Father and the Son, who love each other. Indeed, John tells us in his epistles that God is love. It's such a part of who he is and is part and parcel of his nature.

The Father loves the Son, and the Son, Jesus, loves us. And he commands us to love one another. As your teenagers might say, “how's that workin' out for ya?” Not too well, I suppose.

If your daily life is anything like mine, it's incredibly difficult – no, impossible - to love as Christ loves. Loving others takes a far back seat to the real priority, which is me. Aren't you the same? Call it selfishness, or self-absorption, most of us, most of the time are metaphysical navel-gazers, concerned mostly about how life affects us, first and foremost. We're not preoccupied with what we can do for others, how we can help others, what others need, how we can serve them. No, we're looking out for #1. How I feel. What I need. What I want.

Our culture encourages this self-absorption. Whitney Houston sang that learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all. Advertisers tell us to have it your way, you deserve a break today. We are taught to seek convenience and comfort and fulfillment in all the pleasures of life. And while no one would saying love is a bad thing, all this self-centeredness is the very opposite of what love truly is: self-sacrifice.

We see that, most perfectly, of course, in Jesus. “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lays down his life for his friends”. And Jesus did just that. He wasn't the tragic victim of human injustice, if only he could have gotten away. No. He set his face toward Jerusalem. He handed himself over to his enemies. He laid down his own life. “no one takes it from me” he said, “but I lay it down of my own accord”. He is the ultimate self-sacrifice, the Lamb of God offered up on the altar of the cross. True love. Perfect love. Ultimate superlative, better-than-any-other-love – the real greatest love of all – is Jesus on the cross for you.

And it's his loving death for you that is the antidote for all your unloving-ness.

First of all, to forgive you. Yes, I am an unloving, self-absorbed sinner. What of it? Jesus died for me. Yes, I fumble and stumble and shatter his commandments every single day, but my debts are paid – Jesus died for me. Yes, you too are a poor, miserable sinner, turned in on your own sinful self, too, rebelling, wandering, resenting his law – but Christ laid down his life to forgive you. He loves you that much, even in your unlovingness.

Second, he calls you to abide in his love. To abide means to live in, to make it the center of your existence. To receive, continually, from his loving abundance. Abiding in his love means cherishing the word that he speaks to you – and gathering with others to hear it. Abiding in his love means daily repentance and faith by your baptism, living each day as a new creation in Christ. Abiding in his love means receiving his gifts of body and blood, given and shed for you – the very lifeblood of the Christian – and drawing your life from him alone. Abiding in Jesus' love doesn't mean doing good, so much as it means receiving his good gifts, and trusting in him constantly.

And yes, he calls you to love one another, as he has loved you. And remember what kind of love that is – self-sacrificing love. A love that lays down one's life for another. These disciples of Jesus would know that kind of love first hand, as they would in the coming years, lay down their lives for the sake of his Gospel, that is, for the sake of others. They knew and believed Christ's words and promises. They preached the cross, and lived it. Despite persecution and imprisonment and martyrdom, they remained rooted in his love and his self-sacrifice.

He calls you to love in the same way, with the same love that first loved you. And it's not easy. It means laying down your life for others. It means putting others ahead of yourself, your wants and desires. It means seeing the bigger picture of God's will for you and your life in the little moments and opportunities he sets before you. Love your spouse. Love your children. Love your co-workers, including that really annoying one. Love even your enemies. Speak the truth in love, even when it's a hard truth.

Hard to do, and we do it far from perfectly. We certainly don't die for others. The law convicts us all. But then we return to his forgiveness. And then we recall his promise from last week's reading earlier in this same chapter - “abide in me and you will bear much fruit”. Yes, God works through us to love people, over against our sinful, unloving nature. In spite of our self-absorption, his Spirit accomplishes his purposes.

If you want to love others, the trick isn't to first love yourself. The real way to know love is to know Christ's love. To abide in his love. To receive it constantly, to live and breathe it. Only then can we and will we truly love one another.

Sermon - John 15:1-8 - Easter 5

John 15:1-8

Fifth Sunday of Easter

  

In John's Gospel Jesus gives a number of speeches on his own identity. Sometimes these are call the great “I AM” passages of John – in fact we had one last week, in which Jesus declared, “I AM the Good Shepherd”. Today he uses another grand metaphor to illustrate who he is, and what is his relationship with us, his people.

Jesus is the true vine, and we are the branches. The Father is the gardener, and the fruit we bear is good works. Some vines, unbelievers, bear no fruit. They are condemned to the fire. Simple enough?

And yet there is much to learn from this teaching. There is great comfort in knowing Jesus the Vine, and know what it means to be a branch grafted into him.

But first a reminder – that apart from Christ, there is no fruit. Severed from the True Vine, there is no hope. These are the unbelievers, who have no connection to Christ, no faith or trust in him. Their destiny is destruction. And this would be you... if not for God's grace in Christ!

This takes faith to see. For the eyes of the world will see all sorts of “fruit” in our lives and the lives of unbelievers. You don't have to be a Christian to feed the poor, care for the sick, be a good citizen, or raise your children to be respectful. You don't have to believe in Jesus to be nice to people, or to be regarded as a “good person”. The world looks at the outward things, the surface, and sees what it considers good according to its own standard.

But don't be tempted to do the same! Jesus is quite clear. “Apart from me you can do nothing!” In other words, apart from Jesus, none of these so-called good works amount to a hill of beans. You could win all the accolades of man and affect the lives of millions of people for the better and it would still not be fruitful in the eyes of God. Your good works, even the best of them, would be filthy rags. Your towering moral achievements wouldn't stand the test of God's perfection. You are, after all, like all of us, sinful. And even your best is corrupt and wicked and stinks of death.

If I do good, am I not proud of it? Haven't I done it with some expectation of selfish gain? Am I doing it truly out of love for neighbor, or with some other motivation or agenda? Or perhaps I do it, but grudgingly, and only to avoid looking bad or some other punishment. Sinful man can appear to do all sorts of good things, when the fruit is rotten on the inside, and is really no fruit at all.

“Apart from me you can do nothing” Nothing good, that is. Nothing but sin, rebel, and make your situation with God worse.

But Jesus is the true vine. And we are not apart from him, we are in him. We are in him by the grafting in of Holy Baptism, where we are made members of his kingdom. The word he speaks to us cleanses us. That word is his Gospel – the good news of salvation that comes by the fruits of his cross. His blood shed for you and me, his life given for you and me, there, is the source of our life. And we are in him, and we have that life, as we abide in his word, believing and trusting that what he says is true – even when it doesn't look to be.

So when he says, “Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit”. We believe that too, even though it doesn't look like it. And here is great comfort. I know that, looking at myself, my good works amount to little. Against the perfect standard of the law, they don't stand up. But there is this promise of Jesus that we will bear much fruit. And so we believe it. No matter what it looks like, we know that in him, abiding in him, the fruit will come.

One commentator puts it this way, “From God's point of view the entire life of the Christian, by virtue of the fact that he is attached to Jesus, the Vine, is a good work. No wonder Jesus uses the expression "MUCH fruit" twice... It's either MUCH fruit or none.”

But he never says it's our job to assess our own fruitfulness. What branch does that anyway? That's the gardener's job. We are directed to trust in the word, to remain in Christ, and thus receive our life from the True Vine.

The fruitless branches he casts away and burns. And the fruitful branches, he makes even more fruitful – by pruning.

Here again we call on faith to trust the word where our eyes say different. The branch probably doesn't like being pruned. It's damaging. It probably feels like being cut off. Why would that crazy gardener come and cut off parts of me, the branch might think.

Martin Luther expanded the pruning metaphor, and imagined the gardener also applying manure. But it all starts with Christ himself. Here's how Luther said Christ could put it:

" (They) will throw manure at Me and will hack away at Me. They will shamefully revile and blaspheme Me, will torture, scourge, crucify, and kill Me in the most disgraceful manner, so that all the world will suppose that I must finally perish and be destroyed. But the fertilizing and pruning I suffer will yield a richer fruit: that is, through My cross and death I shall come to My glory, begin My reign, and be acknowledged and believed throughout the world.
Later on you will have the same experience. You, too, must be fertilized and cultivated in this way. The Father, who makes Me the Vine and you the branches, will not permit this Vine to lie unfertilized and unpruned."

And for Luther, the Devil is God's manure: "God takes him in hand and says: “Devil, you are indeed a murderer and an evildoer; but I will use you for My purpose. You shall be My hoe; the world and your following shall be My manure for the fertilization of My vineyard.”

So too, the believer, when God “prunes” us to make us more fruitful. He does things in our lives, allows troubles in our lives, that we don't always understand or like. He allows suffering, perhaps even sends it at times. But the purpose and end of it are his own – to make us more fruitful. Though it may be painful, though it may require endurance, God is in charge of his vineyard, and he knows better than we do. So trust. Endure. And abide in Christ.

One final comforting promise, “If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” Ah, but words that are often misunderstood and misapplied. This isn't Jesus as the wish-granting genie of the lamp, “your wish is my command”. It's not “Jesus make me rich”, “Jesus if you're real heal my disease” or even, “Jesus take my suffering away”.

He says whatever you ask, abiding in my word, it will be done for you. But what kind of prayers do we pray, abiding in his word? Prayers of faith. Prayers that trust him to do what is best. Prayers of thy will, not my will be done, Oh Lord. Prayers that know he will answer, in his way, at his time. Prayers that know and trust that in the end he will make all things new, and right, and good.

Prayers that are rooted in the true vine – the source of our life- Jesus Christ. Apart from him we can do nothing, no good works, not even pray. But in him is all hope and comfort and life. Even when we are pruned, we know it is for God's good purposes. We have the promise that more fruit will come.

Hymn - "Christ Is Alive!"

Christ Is Alive!

By Rev. Thomas Chryst

(tune, “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty”)

Christ is alive, no more suffering, for “it is finished!”

Christ is alive, love increasing, and sorrow diminished.

How great our joy!

Our highest praises employ!

Jesus our Savior is risen.

Christ is alive, his great sacrifice, God has accepted.

By his blood shed for us, we are no longer rejected.

Yes, now he lives!

And to his people he gives,

Life so renewed and perfected.

Christ is alive, he who laid in the tomb has arisen.

Hearken you foes: Sin and Satan, your kingdom is riven.

Death, you are dead!

Jesus was slain in our stead.

Now you have lost your dominion.

Christ is alive, and his people will share in his raising,

At the last trumpet, all flesh join together in praising,

Jesus our Lord,

Who has been true to his word,

His love and power displaying.

Sermon - John 10:11-18 - Easter 4

John 10:11-18

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Jesus is the Good Shepherd. And the Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. A blessed Good Shepherd Sunday to you, as it's often called. Today our lectionary sets before us this grand metaphor of shepherd and sheep - which begins in the Old Testament and culminates in Jesus.

Most of us are familiar with sheep and shepherds not first hand, but beginning in Sunday School. And while you may have been to a farm or a petting zoo here or there, sheep and shepherds aren't as much a part of our daily life as they were for people in Jesus' day. Still, it's a universal relationship that we can easily understand – caretaker and care receiver. Him, and us, respectively.

In fact Jesus contrasts himself with a mere hired hand. An employee who is only a temporary caretaker, but really doesn't care. Jesus cares. He cares for his sheep A LOT. He cares so much that he lays down his life for the sheep, as he says over and over in the passage. Who is the hired hand?

Here Jesus is speaking to both his own disciples and his opponents, including the pharisees. The “hired hand”, who doesn't sacrifice for the sheep rather sacrifices the sheep for his own sake – let the wolf have them while I run away – is the false teacher and false messiah of any age. Anyone who's not pointing you to the Good Shepherd, and speaking the words of the Good Shepherd, leads you only to danger and destruction.

And there is danger in this field. There's a wolf out there. Sometimes he comes in sheep's clothing, sometimes as a serpent, sometimes a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. He is our ancient enemy – that's what “devil” means, “adversary”. He wants to snatch the sheep and scatter the flock. He wants to destroy your faith, and isolate you from each other.

Do you feel the danger? Sheep often can't. Sheep need the guidance of the shepherd. They need the staff to direct us. We need that curbing law, but also to be shown our wandering ways. God's law judges us rightly as lost sheep. People so lost and hopeless in our sins that we have no future but death.

And sheep are needy – incapable of caring for themselves. Sinners, too, are incapable of solving our own spiritual dilemma. We will always, only wander away into danger and death – were it not for our Good Shepherd.

The Good Shepherd's way to rescue the sheep is not to simply lead the way. It's not that he simply calls us to follow, or worse, brutally herds us into a pen.

Our Good Shepherd is a good, kind, loving shepherd. He comes to rescue us. Here's how:

First, he knows us. Yes, a good shepherd knows each and every one of his sheep. He knows you. Jesus doesn't forget you or ignore you. He isn't your part-time savior, only there when you need him. Unless you realize you need him all the time! He knows you better than you know yourself. He knows the number of hairs on your head. He knows your weakness. He knows your temptation. He knows your suffering. “I know my sheep” he says. Believe it.

Second, he cares for us. It may not always seem so. It may seem he's making your life miserable, or at least allowing it to be. It may seem like words, words, words, and that he is as distant and absent as the Devil wants us to believe. But his promise stands, “I am with you always”. And if you ever doubt his love and caring you need only look to the cross. There he shows us his love in the biggest and best way.

For finally, and most importantly, the Good Shepherd rescues the sheep by laying down his life. This is so important Jesus says it three times in the passage – beginning, middle and end. He dies... for you. And what a strange and wonderful thing it is that a shepherd would die for a sheep. But greater love has no one than that he lay down his life for his friends. And greater still that he lays it down for us when we are his enemies. And as helpless and hopeless as the poor lost sheep are, dirty, injured, bleating out our woes in the ditch of our own making.... Jesus lays down his life for ours.

The Good Shepherd is also the perfect lamb. The Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. The Lamb seen in the foreshadowing of passover, a perfect male lamb, whose blood marked the doors of Israelite homes and chased away the destroyer. So too, the blood of Christ routs the enemy of his sheep, that howling wolf who would have us. Death destroyed by his death. Victimhood averted by the perfect Victim.

The blood of the Lamb covers the sins that would deny us entry into the pastures of paradise. The blood of the Lamb sustains us, along with his body given for us. The blood of the Lamb forgives our sins, gives us life, and salvation.

And then there's the flock. Comprised of many sheep from many folds. But all with one great, good shepherd. All whom he knows, and who know him. All who hear his voice, and listen to him. The church. The people who are known by Christ. The people who belong to him, claimed as his own in Holy Baptism. The people who gather around his voice, his word, and listen to it. The people for whom he has laid down his life, and who believe and trust in him. You and I are of that one flock of sheep, for whom the shepherd died. You and I are known and cared for by the Good Shepherd. In his holy name, Amen.

Sermon - Luke 24:36-49 - Easter 3

Luke 24:36-49

Third Sunday of Easter

The joy of Easter echoes today in our Gospel reading with yet another appearance of the risen Christ to his disciples. Jesus continues to give convincing proofs of his resurrection. He stands before them in the flesh. He shows his wounded hands and feet and side. He lets them see, and even touch him. And he even eats with them – something no ghost or spirit would do. He's real, and he's alive. Not a figment of their imagination, but a fulfillment of his promise to die and rise again.

Why did the disciples need to see Jesus again and again? Why wasn't it enough to see the empty tomb? Or to hear the women's report of the angels, and of the risen Christ himself? Why were they startled when he stood among them, since they'd already been “talking about these things”, that is, his appearance to the disciples on the road to Emmaus? And even as he stood there, speaking to them, he says they are troubled, and there are doubts in their hearts!

Why do you doubt? Why do you not believe, with your whole heart, his words, his promises, his resurrection? The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. We want to be faithful followers, to do his will. We want to keep the commandments. But then again, we don't, really. This is the condition of all sanctified sinners, all lost and found sheep. We are the disciples. Even when we are raised from birth to hear the word and believe it, we doubt it. Even when we are taught right and wrong, from God's clear word, we muddy it up with our own custom morality. And even when Jesus makes clear and convincing promises – well, why don't we fully and completely trust him? Do you think your problems are bigger than God's ability to handle them? Do you think your sins are too great for the blood of Jesus to cover? Do you think God's too weak to carry you through even this dark, fearful hour?

Why? Jesus gently chides them, but not so much in a scolding manner as in consolation. Their faith is weak and their minds are confused. They had been through so much, and were still wrestling with fears. But they are still his disciples. And he is still their Christ. All that he did, he has done for them and for us. But he won't just walk away, or ascend into the clouds and be forgotten. He continues to speak, to comfort, and to strengthen his frail followers. Even you, even now.

He comes in peace. He says, “peace to you!” And it's more than a feeling. It's not just a sense of peace. It's a real peace – a cessation of hostility. The warfare has ended. God's not going to smite us any more. For Jesus was stricken, smitten, and afflicted. God is not our enemy any more, for Jesus is our champion - victorious over sin and death. The peace that he brings is himself – and all that he has done, including his resurrection, for us.

But it's much more than that. These are not only his words, but they are the words of Scripture. All of which has been written for our instruction, encouragement, reproof, correction, hope and comfort. The law in all its demands and accusations, but also the Gospel in all its sweet promise. All of it, all of God's word is about Christ, and it is for us. All of the Law of Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms. And we could add the Gospels and Epistles and even Revelation. These are the words that point us to Christ. These are the things written, for us, about him.

So many today would make the Holy Bible into a rulebook for living, or a guideline for goodness. To others, it's perhaps a bunch of quaint stories that are probably myths and fables. Still others find only symbolism and metaphor. And for some it's simply outdated and useless. But these are not open, but closed minds. Closed to the truth. Jesus opens his disciples minds to see, to understand, to find in all of scripture the testimony about the Christ.

We believe, and we confess, that these written words are the very word of God, and they are life! John tells us, at the end of his Gospel, that these things are written that you may believe and, believing, have life in Jesus' name.

Then he opened their minds to see it. He showed them what they couldn't see on their own, in their confusion and doubt and fear. Jesus summarizes it all for us here. This is the point of all of God's word: “that the Christ should suffer, and on the third day rise from the dead, and that repentance and forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations...”

In other words, that Jesus died and rose for you – and that his Law and Gospel should be preached to everyone, including you.

So, sinner, repent! Turn from your sins, again, today. Confess your sins. Plan to do better. Whatever that sin is, turn away, and look to Jesus who has conquered it. Forgiveness of sins is yours, in him. Find it in his nail scarred, outstretched, but very much alive hands. Receive it in his body and blood, given and shed for you. Hear it in the words of the liturgy, the readings, the hymns, the sermon. Your sins are forgiven, in Christ, who lives!

And where there is forgiveness, there is life. They go together. Just as Jesus who rose from the dead comes to bring forgiveness, so does his forgiveness bring life to you. Death and sin go together, and they are no more. They are done. It is finished. You are made alive in baptism, renewed and reborn. You are made alive in the waters of baptism, a daily washing and regeneration. You are kept alive in the life of Christ, by his lifeblood and his living body.

The disciples were witnesses. They saw and heard. And so they were sent. We haven't seen, but we've believed. We haven't seen, but we have heard. And we too are sent, the holy apostolic church. We are sent to serve our neighbor. We are called to show mercy to the least of these. And we are called to give answer to the hope within us. And that hope is the risen Christ.

Whatever door you've locked up for fear of whomever or whatever. Whatever question you struggle with, or doubt that plagues your mind. If the cold breath of death is on your neck, or the weight of a sin is bearing down on you. Jesus says, “Peace”. For Jesus is alive. And Jesus brings forgiveness and life. Believe in him, and be blessed. Amen.

Sermon - Easter Sunrise Service

Easter Sunday (Sunrise Service)

April 8^th, 2012

John 20:1-18

“Mary”

Christ is Risen! He is risen indeed. Alleluia, Amen.

Jesus said to her, “Mary.”

I will never forget one Grace member, 93 year old Esther. Like many of our members who can’t make it to church, Pastor and I would visit Esther monthly in her home. And as is so often the case, I would get as much out of our visits as she did. She was a long time Sunday School Teacher, a life-long Lutheran, and even at this age, an avid student of the Bible.

It must have been sometime in the Easter season that we had one particular visit in which we started talking about Jesus’ resurrection. And as we did, she brought up this very passage from John 20 where the risen Jesus meets Mary Magdelene, who is weeping in the garden. Mysteriously, she didn’t even recognize him, and we aren’t told why. But then he says her name. I remember Esther saying, “I just think it’s so profound, so tender, how he calls her by name. Mary.” And as she said it, a tear came to her eyes.

It’s always stuck with me, that Esther would be so touched by this small detail of the Easter account. Jesus says Mary’s name. But it’s not just Mary that he knows by name. It’s you, and me too.

Jesus had died a horrible death that his followers were powerless to stop. Their grief was fresh and deep and bitter. They loved him. The believed in him. For these women who had cared for him during the years of his public ministry, it must have been especially heart-wrenching to have front row seats to his execution. To see his hasty burial on that Friday evening before the feast. And now, Sunday, still in great sorrow, they return to his tomb to pay final respects, and finish a proper burial. And now to rub salt into all the wounds, to find his body had been stolen! Or so it appeared…

Grief can overwhelm. It happens to us, too. We are just like Mary. We forget what God says. We forget who he is. Life's troubles pile up on us and like weeds seek to choke out God's word planted in our hearts. What about Jesus' many promises that he would rise? Why didn't they find comfort in those words?

Or, our own sins weigh us down with regret – what could I have done differently, or better? If only I had said this... If only I was stronger. And so we live in the past sins, rather than the present forgiveness and future hope that he brings. Surely Mary felt some of this, too.

But Jesus doesn't live in the past – in fact your sins are of no concern to him. They were left behind at the cross. And Jesus isn't overwhelmed by the world, he's already taken it on – even death – and now stands victorious. And Jesus doesn't forget his promises to you, but repeats them softly and faithfully. And Jesus knows who you are, even when you forget him.

“Mary.” he said. He called her by name. It's the little moments that are so poignant in the Easter account. The details that come only with a tru account like this. John beating Peter as they run to the tomb. The burial cloths being neatly folded. Mary thinking Jesus was the gardener. Like the moments in the stories we tell about our loved ones – the little memories that stick with us. “Mary.” he says.

He calls you by name, too. First, in your baptism. There you became a partaker of his resurrection. When your old sinful nature drowned and died, and the new creation was born of water and the spirit. We were buried with him, in baptism, and raised from the dead in his resurrection.

Jesus lives. He lives and stands and speaks – Mary – he says. And simply by mentioning her name, he says so much. He says, for one, that he's here, and everything is ok. I'm alive, just like I said I would be. He says, I know you. I love you. You're not dead to me, either. He says put away your sorrow, and rejoice with me in the victory that stands before you. Victory over sin. Victory over death. Eternal life that death cannot contain. And where I have gone, you too will follow.

Surely, Mary would remember that day forever. When her weeping turned to joy on a dime. And it all happened by one little word, her name. When the Lord of Life spoke it to her, from his own living lips. Now, Mary would still, one day, die. But even then she would rest secure in the care of the one who knew her name. The one who lives, and reigns to all eternity, with his Father and our Father, his God and our God.

Not long after our visit, Esther went into a nursing home. Her health was declining, but her faith never wavered. I'd see her a few more times, and after that, she too, died. I was called to the nursing home and I stood next to her husband as we watched the funeral directors respectfully take her body away. But even in death, I knew she was with Christ, her Lord. And I couldn't help but think that Jesus welcomed her with one tender, loving word – Esther.

May the risen Christ, who knows your name, keep you in his care, strengthen your faith, and bring you also at last to himself. For even death is not the end of us. And when we, too, rise from death in our bodies, we will rejoice all the more in the victory of this day. A blessed Easter to you, in Christ our Lord, Amen.