Sermon: Palm Sunday (Palmarum)

20 March 2005 at Faith Lutheran Church, Harahan, LA

Text: Matthew 21:1-9 (Historic)

In the Name of + Jesus, our King. Amen.

We Americans, living in a republic, are not used to dealing with kings. In a monarchy, when the king or queen dies, it is a monumental event for two reasons: first of all, because a death has occurred – the body is carried in a procession, lays in state, and is buried amid military pomp. And secondly, a new king or queen is enthroned, the government changes hands, and the country rallies around the new monarch. Maybe it’s a little bit like when a president dies and the vice president takes over. But in monarchies, the situation is more intense, more earth-shattering.

On Palm Sunday we are hailing our King – King Jesus. We gather around his royal entourage bearing palms. We say “God Save the King! Hosanna!” The word Hosanna literally means “save.” But of course, in the case of our Lord Jesus Christ, “hosanna” not only applies to our wish that God would save and preserve our King, but more importantly, that our King is also our Savior. When we sing: “Hosanna! Blessed is He who cometh in the name of the Lord,” we are singing both “God save the King” and “the King is God who saves us!”

When we wave our palms, dear Christians, we’re not simply engaging in a historical re-enactment. We’re not dressing up in gray uniforms and shooting blank rounds of black powder at people dressed in blue uniforms who are pretending to be Yankees soldiers. We’re not simply putting on a pageant, role-playing in a sort-of chancel drama so that the children have something fun to do. Rather, listen to our liturgy. Right before we sing the Sanctus, the “Holy Holy Holy” that includes the line from today’s Gospel: “Hosanna! Blessed is He who cometh in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest,” our liturgy tells us what we’re really doing. We’re joining in the ongoing heavenly royal greeting of the Lord of the universe. “With angels and archangels, and with all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify your glorious name, evermore praising you and saying…” Today, in this place, we are privileged to truly and physically join all the ranks of heaven, the angels, the prophets, the apostles, the martyrs, the saints of every time and place. This includes saints the church has never, and will never officially recognize.

This includes those departed saints in all of our lives: my sainted mother, your sainted husbands, wives, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. This includes your sainted pastors who baptized you as a baby, and who taught you about Jesus when you were just a little boy or girl. This includes your sainted teachers, your neighbors, your bosses, your workers, your friends. This includes the countless anonymous saints who did the Lord’s work in your life – perhaps by praying for you when you never even knew it. They are all around the Lord’s throne, singing his praises unto eternity. They are the “host arrayed in white” in the beautiful funeral hymn: “They stand with palms and sing their psalms, before the throne of light. They now serve God both day and night, they sing their songs in endless light. Their anthems ring when they all sing with angels shining bright.”

These are not mere pious words from a sentimental Norwegian hymn. These aren’t simply the words we say in the liturgy. This is reality. For immediately after our gospel text, St. Matthew tells of those who are disgruntled at Jesus’s royal reception. They tell Jesus: “Can’t you control your followers? Shut them up!” This is one of the parts of the play Jesus Christ Superstar that is done well. Caiaphas, the grumpy high priest who hatches the scheme to murder Jesus, sings: “Tell the rabble to be quiet, we anticipate a riot. This common crowd is much too loud.” To which Jesus replies: “If every tongue were still the noise would still continue – the rocks and stones themselves would start to sing!” This is not a bad paraphrase of the text. For all the universe hails her King, and if a petty tyrant along the way is able to silence one saint, there will be more to take his place. And even more so, that saint will not be silent in eternity. Evil may well snuff out the life of Terri Schiavo – the mentally-disabled Christian woman in Florida who is being starved to death by a court order. But Mrs. Schiavo’s tongue is only temporarily stilled – no matter what happens in court and in congress. Her voice will blend with our voices in praise – and no-one can stop it. Evil may even see to it that she is executed unjustly – suffering thirst and agony just like her Lord Jesus – but Satan will no more succeed in keeping her in the tomb than he did with our Lord.

And we also learn later on in the text that among those chanting “hail the King” were children. This is why we sing “All Glory Laud and Honor” – mentioning the children who sing “Hosanna!” along with the angels, the saints, the rocks and stones, and all of us. For reason tells us that to be one of Jesus’s subjects, to be part of God’s kingdom, one must have a certain level of intelligence, the ability to “make a decision” for Jesus, or “accept him” in an intellectual way. Or, worse yet, reason tells us we must achieve a certain level of holiness, or be perfect, or to have “achieved victory” over sin in our lives. Satan loves to tell all of these lies to us – for it fills us with doubt of our worthiness to sing “Hosanna! Blessed is He!” It fills us with doubt about whether or not the blood of King Jesus avails for us. And when people objected to the children singing praise to King Jesus, Jesus rebukes them with a quote from Scripture: “Have you never read: ‘out of the mouths of babes and nursing infants you have perfected praise’?”

Do not be deceived, dear brothers and sisters. When we raise our palms, we are not only hailing our King, we’re joining the entire church of all time, we’re joining together with young and old: even the unborn and those aged saints at death’s door. We join with the disabled, the despised, the poor, the oppressed, the imprisoned. We join with those who bear the cross and who have born the cross, forgiven sinners all. We join with baptized children, and even with all creation in singing “Long Live the King. Hosanna!”

But the other part of the saying is: “The King is dead.” For in worldly monarchies, a king must die for a new king to hear the wishes for a long life. But our Lord’s kingdom is not of this world. It works a little differently. For when we say “the King is dead, long live the King,” we mean that the very King who dies is the King who reigns forever!” For in our Gospel lesson, Jesus is not merely on a joyride to Bethphage, wanting to go on a donkey ride to the Mount of Olives. Rather, he is approaching Jerusalem for one reason – to die. And even in his dying days, our Lord calls the shots. He arranges for his own transportation – which was prophesied in Zechariah. He is still commanding his disciples – just as would any king. And when his entourage entered the Royal City, the followers of Jesus hailed him as King – spreading garments and branches along the Royal Highway, and hailing the Son of David with the royal greetings we continue to sing today almost two millennia later.

But again, this King, though a mighty conqueror, does not enter Jerusalem at the head of a mighty military column. No, he rides a donkey. Satan must have thought this a pathetic and silly sight. But it was to get even sillier and more pathetic – a King wearing robes in mockery, crowned with thorns, greeted with blows and spit in the face. A King who is flogged, and enthroned on a cruel cross – with a royal proclamation above his head. And what a great moment of victory for the devil when he could say “The King is dead!” But this was not to be Satan’s victory, but Jesus’s victory. For in dying, he conquered death. On the cross, he crushed the serpent’s head. And his resurrection was the vindication of that victory – that assures resurrection to all the saints who today sing imperfectly “Hosanna! Blessed is He that cometh in the name of the Lord!” For even those whose mouths have been stilled by disease or age, those whose voices are inhibited by their youth, and even those whose tongues are momentarily silent by death itself – continue to sing with rocks and stones, with saints and angels, just as we sing here.

Dear brothers and sisters – drink it in! Every Sunday we have the opportunity to blend our sorry, imperfect voices in a swelling praise with all of our Lord’s saints. Every Sunday as we sing the Sanctus, we join the angels in the victory song over sin, Satan, and the grave! As we prepare to receive the Holy Body and Blood of our Lord, we can indeed approach our Lord’s throne – no longer a bloody cross, but now a bloody altar, which contains the very flesh and blood of the one sacrifice that pleads the cause of us “poor miserable sinners” for all eternity! Drink it in! Rejoice! Dear saints, no matter that you are oppressed, belittled, or mocked. No matter that sin still assails you, that Satan still stalks you. No matter that doubts plague you, and evil wounds you. Remember the saints in the hymn: “On earth their work was not thought wise, but see them now in heaven’s eyes. Before God’s throne of precious stone they shout their vict’ry cries.” And we shout those victory cries with them today!

But it gets even better. For we not only sing with the saints, we eat with them. For our Lord, who eats with sinners, still does. He is not only the host of the feast, but he is the host that we eat. He not only invites us to sit at his table, he invites us to partake of himself. The very same physical Jesus who is adored by the saints and angels unto eternity, is miraculously present with us, at this altar, where we again participate in the knock-out blow over death and the devil. We kneel before our King, receive him as his subjects (while he receives us as royal brothers and sisters), and we rise to go back into the world to continue the fight. As we leave today, it is our Lord himself who pronounces his blessing upon us. He equips us to fight the good fight, to struggle against evil – being, like the saints of old, forgiven sinners.

And as we gear up this last, most holy week in anticipation of our Lord’s resurrection, don’t be afraid to display your palm in your home as a symbol of victory over evil! Not your victory, but our Lord’s victory. It is an affront to the devil, for this palm symbolizes the baptismal water that cleansed you, and the Blood of our Lord that washes our robes white as snow. It is a token that reminds you of who you are, who your King is, what he has done, does, and will do for you. It is a symbol of the very real throne-room of God, into which we are privileged to peek every Sunday.

The King is dead – long live the King! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” Amen.

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Wednesday of Lent 5 (Judica)

15 March 2005, Mt. Olive Lutheran Church, Metairie, LA

Text: Matt 26:31-35 (3 Year)

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Today’s text calls to mind the old saying: “The way to hell is paved with good intentions.”

At first glance, it is a curious saying – why would “good intentions” lead anyone to hell? Of course, the answer is the built-in assumption that good intentions do not lead to good actions. In fact, good intentions often serve as a convenient substitute for good actions. Although this little saying doesn’t come from Scripture, it certainly has a ring of truth to it – especially in light of the “good intentions” of the disciples. It is a demonstration of our inability to overcome sin by “will power.”

And no-one has more “good intentions” than Peter: “Even if all are made to stumble because of you” – literally “even if everyone is scandalized by you” – “I will never be made to stumble.” One has to be careful about using a word like “never.” It is known as a “universal quantifier.” One of my high school math teachers had a rule: “Never use a universal quantifier.” Which is a clever way of saying: “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Peter made a promise that he could not keep – his “good intentions” notwithstanding. And Jesus stings him with his prophecy that “never” was just around the corner.

“‘Even if I have to die with you, I will not deny you!’ And so said all the disciples.”

Very good intentions indeed. Especially uttered by the clergy. Many centuries ago, a pastor named John Chrysostom had a different twist on the way to hell: he said it was “paved with priests’ skulls.”

Of course, we all know what became of Peter’s “good intentions.” We all know what became of those of the other disciples. And we all know about our own good intentions. We really mean well, don’t we? We make resolutions for the new year, and promises at Lent. We have every intention of managing our money better, being a better husband, wife, son, or daughter. We really do intend on reading the Bible more, taking classes to learn something we should know, being more diligent about church attendance, striving to be more tolerant and forgiving, to be a better witness of Jesus and the Christian faith. We have resolved to take better care of our bodies, we are determined to overcome our addictions and weaknesses. We promise Jesus again and again that we will control our anger, we will not gossip about others, we will stop telling white lies or cheating on our taxes. We will stop putting on a pious front so that people will think better of us.

We promise “God, we will never do that again. We will live our lives for Jesus, and if necessary, we will die for Jesus. And then the rooster crows. Then God’s law is preached. Then our conscience reminds us that we look as foolish as the disciples, relying on our own willpower and “good intentions.” And keep in mind where the disciples had just come from when they made their quickly-broken promises: they had just come from the Lord’s Supper! Only moments after being absolved of all their sins, after having just received the Lord’s Body and Blood, they are sinning by relying on their own willpower and making promises they cannot keep.

But the good news is that for all of our broken promises, there is One who keeps his promises. For our broken promises are covered by our Lord’s broken body, the Bread of Life broken for us, for the forgiveness of all our sins. Where we are unfaithful, he is faithful. Where we lie, he is true. Where we make promises with all good intentions, he makes the promise that is backed up by deeds.

And even though our Lord was “made to stumble” on our behalf, even though he was made to fall to his knees on our account, and even though he was put to death for our good intentions and wicked deeds, he is the one who can make good where Peter could not. For it is our Lord who can truly say: “Even if I have to die… I will not deny you.”

Though the road to hell is paved with good intentions (and priests’ skulls), the way to heaven is covered with the blood of Jesus, and the gate to that road is the body of our High Priest, our Lord Jesus Christ. And no matter how good our intentions are (and how badly we stumble in carrying them out), Jesus continues to give us his Body and Blood. He continues to allow his unworthy pastors (who like the first pastors also fall into the trap of “good intentions”) to forgive our sins and preach the Gospel.

While we are right to struggle against sin, to make it our intention to do good and shun evil, we can rest in the fact that the only one whose “good intentions” always translate to “good deeds” – even when ours don’t. And our Lord’s deeds translate into eternal life for us. And that is indeed Good News. Amen!

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Wednesday of Lent 5 (Judica)

15 March 2005, Mt. Olive Lutheran Church, Metairie, LA

Text: Matt 26:31-35

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Today’s text calls to mind the old saying: “The way to hell is paved with good intentions.”

At first glance, it is a curious saying – why would “good intentions” lead anyone to hell? Of course, the answer is the built-in assumption that good intentions do not lead to good actions. In fact, good intentions often serve as a convenient substitute for good actions. Although this little saying doesn’t come from Scripture, it certainly has a ring of truth to it – especially in light of the “good intentions” of the disciples. It is a demonstration of our inability to overcome sin by “will power.”

And no-one has more “good intentions” than Peter: “Even if all are made to stumble because of you” – literally “even if everyone is scandalized by you” – “I will never be made to stumble.” One has to be careful about using a word like “never.” It is known as a “universal quantifier.” One of my high school math teachers had a rule: “Never use a universal quantifier.” Which is a clever way of saying: “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Peter made a promise that he could not keep – his “good intentions” notwithstanding. And Jesus stings him with his prophecy that “never” was just around the corner.

“‘Even if I have to die with you, I will not deny you!’ And so said all the disciples.”

Very good intentions indeed. Especially uttered by the clergy. Many centuries ago, a pastor named John Chrysostom had a different twist on the way to hell: he said it was “paved with priests’ skulls.”

Of course, we all know what became of Peter’s “good intentions.” We all know what became of those of the other disciples. And we all know about our own good intentions. We really mean well, don’t we? We make resolutions for the new year, and promises at Lent. We have every intention of managing our money better, being a better husband, wife, son, or daughter. We really do intend on reading the Bible more, taking classes to learn something we should know, being more diligent about church attendance, striving to be more tolerant and forgiving, to be a better witness of Jesus and the Christian faith. We have resolved to take better care of our bodies, we are determined to overcome our addictions and weaknesses. We promise Jesus again and again that we will control our anger, we will not gossip about others, we will stop telling white lies or cheating on our taxes. We will stop putting on a pious front so that people will think better of us.

We promise “God, we will never do that again. We will live our lives for Jesus, and if necessary, we will die for Jesus. And then the rooster crows. Then God’s law is preached. Then our conscience reminds us that we look as foolish as the disciples, relying on our own willpower and “good intentions.” And keep in mind where the disciples had just come from when they made their quickly-broken promises: they had just come from the Lord’s Supper! Only moments after being absolved of all their sins, after having just received the Lord’s Body and Blood, they are sinning by relying on their own willpower and making promises they cannot keep.

But the good news is that for all of our broken promises, there is One who keeps his promises. For our broken promises are covered by our Lord’s broken body, the Bread of Life broken for us, for the forgiveness of all our sins. Where we are unfaithful, he is faithful. Where we lie, he is true. Where we make promises with all good intentions, he makes the promise that is backed up by deeds.

And even though our Lord was “made to stumble” on our behalf, even though he was made to fall to his knees on our account, and even though he was put to death for our good intentions and wicked deeds, he is the one who can make good where Peter could not. For it is our Lord who can truly say: “Even if I have to die… I will not deny you.”

Though the road to hell is paved with good intentions (and priests’ skulls), the way to heaven is covered with the blood of Jesus, and the gate to that road is the body of our High Priest, our Lord Jesus Christ. And no matter how good our intentions are (and how badly we stumble in carrying them out), Jesus continues to give us his Body and Blood. He continues to allow his unworthy pastors (who like the first pastors also fall into the trap of “good intentions”) to forgive our sins and preach the Gospel.

While we are right to struggle against sin, to make it our intention to do good and shun evil, we can rest in the fact that the only one whose “good intentions” always translate to “good deeds” – even when ours don’t. And our Lord’s deeds translate into eternal life for us. And that is indeed Good News. Amen!

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Lent 5 (Judica)

13 March 2005 at Mt. Olive Lutheran Church, Metairie, LA

Text: John 11:47-53 (and Ezek 37:1-14, and Rom 8:11-19) (3 Year)

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

The fifth Sunday in lent is traditionally known as “Judica.” It comes from the Latin from today’s Introit from Psalm 43: “Judge me, O God: and plead my cause against an ungodly nation.”

King David seems a little confused. First of all, who would pray for God to “judge” him. In most cases, being in front of a judge is not a good thing. Seeing the sirens in the rear view mirror is not something we typically welcome. Being sent to the principal’s office usually means something bad is about to happen. So why does David ask for God to be his judge? And furthermore, why does David ask for God to be not only his judge, but also to “plead my cause.” Doesn’t David know the difference between the judge and the defense attorney? Even without access to Court TV and Judge Judy, one would expect a political leader of the caliber of King David to understand how a courtroom operates.

And what does any of this have to do with today’s readings? In our Old Testament lesson, we have God breathing life into dead bones, putting flesh on them, and making them awaken from the dead and become an army. In our Epistle text, St. Paul promises that just as Jesus was raised in the flesh, so shall he “give life to our mortal bodies.” And in our Gospel text, Jesus has just raised Lazarus from the dead, and as a result, the chief priests and the Pharisees have determined to kill him.

So what is the connection between death and judgment? Why do we join David’s 3,000 year old prayer this morning: “Judge me, O God”? But more importantly, what is the connection between judgment and resurrection?

Dear Christian brothers and sisters – this link between judgment, death, and resurrection is what ties Lent (a time of repentance for our sins) with Easter (a time of joy for the forgiveness of our sins). This connection binds Ash Wednesday’s somber “You are dust, and to dust you shall return” to Easter’s triumphant: “I know that my Redeemer lives.” But even more importantly, this judgment that David, and we, ask of our Lord – which connected to physical death and physical resurrection – is the central teaching of Christianity, and the most important thing in the universe.

Holy Scripture opens with Paradise. Genesis chapters 1 and 2 know nothing of sadness, sorrow, pain, mourning, disease, worry, war, natural disasters, nor even death itself. According to God’s original creation, death is an unnatural and repugnant thing. It is no normal part of the “circle of life” – but is rather the “wages of sin.” And likewise the Bible ends with this Paradise restored. Revelation 21 and 22 know only joy, happiness, blessing, health, wholeness, harmony, and everlasting life. Death doesn’t even exist anymore.

And yet, we find ourselves right now, this morning, in this time and place, trapped between the Paradise of the past and the Paradise yet to come. We are stuck in a dying, polluted world, filled with violent, sinful, rebellious people (including ourselves). We are like the rotting bones in Ezekiel. We are like Paul (speaking only a chapter before today’s lesson), “wretched” men stuck in a “body of death.” Since the time of Genesis 3, and right up to the yet-to-come Revelation 20, we are an infected universe made up of broken people, leprous, and dying with sin. Man and animal hate and harm each other. Housefires destroy families, criminals shoot up courtrooms, tsunamis and hurricanes rage, bringing the judgment of death upon thousands. And even if medicine and technology can forestall death (and these are indeed great blessings of God) – they can only forestall the inevitable. Like all men, from Adam right up to the children around the world being born this very second – we are all mortal, we are all afflicted, we will all die.

But in spite of this universal condition of man, this terminal illness from which we all suffer, called “sin,” this is not the end of the story. Many people look around at the hopelessness of this world, of their own struggles with temptation, with pain, with addiction, with illness – and conclude life is meaningless. Since there is no God, no rhyme or reason to life, since we all have evolved from blobs of protein and will cease to exist once our bodies fail, what is the point? One is either led to depression and despair, or to a thrill-seeking life that never finds contentment.

But what does the Word of God teach us? The bones Ezekiel saw were not left to rot in a purgatory between Genesis and Revelation. God told Ezekiel to “prophesy” to them, to preach to them. To tell these lifeless corpses to “hear the Word of the Lord!” God doesn’t tell Ezekiel to leave the bones a tract, or give them a Gideon’s Bible to read, or try to convince them to walk around through reason. He doesn’t tell Ezekiel to give them a motivational speech or entertain them. He does not tell Ezekiel to give the bones a drug, or clone them. Rather, it is the faithful preaching of the Word of God that gives life! As a result of this proclamation, the “breath” of God, that is, his Holy Spirit entered into what had been without life, and the bones were transformed into flesh-and-blood soldiers in a resurrected and born-again army! And then God tells Ezekiel to preach to all of us: “I will open your graves and cause you to come up from your graves… I will put my Spirit in you, and you shall live.”

St. Paul repeats this promise in our Epistle. Notice that Christianity does not teach (as do Pagan religions) that the body is bad, and must be discarded, while the soul is good and immortal. For this is a double lie. First, the entire man is corrupted with sin – not merely the body. And second, the entire man – body and spirit alike – will be judged and the physical body will be resurrected. And those who have been restored by the Word of God will be raised to eternal life on the ultimate Day of Judica.

But notice how the world reacts to such good news. Our culture sees death not as an enemy to overcome, a judgment given to us for our rebellion against God. It does not see Jesus as the one who conquered death by dying. No, our culture embraces death. Death is natural, and even worse, death is a solution! Death is the answer to inconvenient pregnancy. In some countries (the ones considered the most “humane” and “progressive”) death is the solution to end a person’s suffering – with or without the person’s consent – even if the person is a newborn child. Death is the solution to expensive treatments and a lack of “quality of life.” And even many Christians (who every Sunday confess the creed: “I believe in the… resurrection of the body and life everlasting) actually believe that when the Christian dies, he is some disembodied spirit floating around the clouds, or coming back to earth as a ghost to help people. Some even believe the dead saints become angels. A well-meaning educator in the LCMS recently told her children that when we die, our bodies become like a candy wrapper to be thrown in the trash. We do not stress the physical resurrection the way we should. We preachers don’t emphasize it enough. We preachers and hearers alike need to repent of this watering down of the Gospel.

Such a view of death and of the body is to deny God’s power, that he can indeed restore our bodies to life as he has promised. It is to forget that God made all of creation and declared it “good.” It is to overlook that there is a Revelation 21 and 22 in which fleshly people eat and drink and enjoy physical delights unto eternity.

Why is it so important to Satan to deny the fleshly, literal, physical resurrection? In our Gospel reading, why do the chief priests and Pharisees seek to kill Jesus? It is because, as they say in our text: “If we let him alone like this, everyone will believe in him.” Indeed, the fleshly, physical Jesus who goes around raising people from the dead causes belief, that is “faith.” Satan knows that if he can destroy the physical Jesus, he can destroy faith. If he can get “Christian” scholars to deny the historical resurrection, he can destroy faith. If he can get Christians to deny their own literal bodily resurrection, he can destroy faith. If he can get Christians to deny the Lord’s physical Flesh and Blood in the Lord’s Supper, he can destroy faith. If he can cause people to see physical baptism as a mere symbolic act (since water is only physical matter, and can’t save people), he can destroy faith. If he can get people to deny that a physical flesh and blood minister can forgive sins, he can destroy faith. If he can convince people that preaching cannot call dead bones to life, that instead sermons are either Christian-based entertainment, or information seminars, or a means of getting prospects in the door, or appeals for money, or pep-talks designed to excite people about purpose-filled living – well, you know what I’m going to say. Preaching exists for one reason – to proclaim the Word of God, that is Christ himself, to dead bones to make them come to life.

Dear brothers and sisters, in a few moments, our Lord’s resurrected and living Body and Blood will be placed in our mouths for the forgiveness of our sins, to bring our sinful dead bones to life, just as the body of Jesus was raised and made glorious. The judgment for which we pray this Judica Sunday is not for condemnation – as Jesus did not come into he world to condemn it, but to save it. Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world! The Judge who has mercy on us! The Judge who grants us his peace! The Judge who also serves as our advocate! The Judge who not only declares us “not guilty,” but who also recreates us to be innocent!

Another way to translate our Introit’s first word: “Judge” – is the word “vindicate” (as does the New King James Version). For a judgment in our favor is a vindication. When our Lord was resurrected, his claim to be God was vindicated, proven true. And when our Lord calls us forth from our graves, we too will be vindicated – not by our own deeds (which surely condemn us), not by temporary medical breakthroughs or self-delusional appeals to see death as natural or beneficial. But rather we will be vindicated by him of whom the corrupt high priest correctly prophesied that “one man should die for the people” and as a result would “gather together in one the children of God who were scattered abroad” – scattered like dry bones in a valley.

We too have been enfleshed by God’s Word and raised by God’s Spirit, called forth to stand by God’s preachers, taking to our feet as an army of the redeemed and resurrected. Let us look forward to our own resurrection, our own vindication with as much joy and hope as we await the celebration of our Lord’s resurrection and vindication on Easter. Let us pray confidently with King David: “Judge me, O God: and plead my cause against an ungodly nation.”

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Amen.

Sermon: Thursday of Lent 2 (Oculi)

3 March 2005 at Chapel of Lutheran High School, Metairie, LA

Text: Ephesians 5:1-9

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

St. Paul’s words seem like all law, and no gospel.

Paul tells us “do this, don’t do that.” And furthermore, “if you do this and not that, you will have no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ.” Paul speaks of God’s wrath to those of us who are the “sons of disobedience.”

Of course, that doesn’t apply to anyone here, right? We’re all obedient, pious, holy, and loving – all the time. We don’t engage in “foolish talking,” or “uncleanness.” None of us here engages in course language, or sexual sins, or of the idolatry of putting worldly things ahead of God. Nobody here in our Lutheran High community – neither students nor parents, neither faculty nor staff – have sins like covetousness and filthiness, right?

So none of us need to worry about the wrath of God, his “temporal and eternal punishment.” Don’t we wish?

Let’s be honest with ourselves. Even the most pious among us, the ones whom everyone thinks are the most righteous, harbors hidden and secret sins. Even those of us who can curb our actions and control our tongues know very well that our minds are full of selfishness, conceit, greed, lust, envy, courseness, rebellion against authority, lying, cheating, gossiping, violence, hatred, and self-righteousness. We do not love God with our whole hearts. We do not love our neighbors as ourselves. And we don’t even love ourselves: poisoning our bodies with the abuse of things that are unhealthy – be they drugs, alcohol, tobacco, or junk food. How many of us really exercise as we should? But, of course, we congratulate ourselves that we don’t smoke crack as we reach for the second, or third, slice of pie.

We fritter away our valuable time on mindless entertainments while our responsibilities go unfulfilled. We shun reading the scriptures, we make other things more important than worship on Sundays. And even when we go to church, our minds wander, we have evil thoughts about those around us, and we complain about everything.

“We are by nature sinful and unclean” as we often say mindlessly on Sunday. We all do the things Paul tells us not to do in today’s reading, and we all refuse to do the things Paul tells us we need to be doing.

So what awaits the person who commits such acts? Scripture is very clear about it, dear friends. Death, both temporal and eternal – both in this life and for eternity – awaits those who rebel against God’s law. This means, quite simply, we all deserve nothing but hell. We “poor miserable sinners” have brought death upon ourselves. We cannot blame Adam. We cannot blame God. We cannot blame others. We have done it to ourselves – and we do it every day of our lives. St. Paul’s unpleasant words are not merely for serial killers and terrorists – they are for all of us who, in the words of St. Paul, “have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

So is there any gospel at all in today’s reading? Absolutely! First of all, Paul’s words, inspired by the Holy Spirit himself, are a warning. They are a yellow road sign telling us to slow down because we are heading toward a cliff. But we have not yet fallen over the side. Our Lord, in his mercy, allows us to repent. His law, for all its harshness, is a call to return to him, to return to his loving care. It is an invitation to step away from the edge of the bottomless pit, to be rescued by our Savior, Jesus Christ.

And look at how Paul describes our blessed Savior in this passage: “Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma.” Paul doesn’t leave us hanging – in spite of his sobering words and his demands that we do the impossible. For we are not left alone. Christ has loved us, and continues to love us – but even more importantly, he gave himself for us – not merely as a friend, a homeboy, a bobble-headed trinket, or a comic-book superhero. Jesus is not a t-shirt slogan. Rather, he offered himself as a sacrifice, beaten and nailed to a cross for us. Jesus is the Lamb, the victim, whose Blood was poured on the ground (blood that should have been ours). Jesus is the Lamb whose flesh was burned on the altar of God, producing the pleasant smell of meat cooking on a grill – an aroma that pleases God, rising to the highest of the heavens like sweet incense, pleading with the Father to spare us, all of us “poor miserable sinners” who deserve what Jesus got. This, dear friends, is no “homeboy” – this is our Savior, our atonement, our suffering servant, our substitute. His wounds should have been my wounds. And if that were not enough – this is God himself. Jesus is to be worshipped.

And because Jesus died, our sinful flesh has also been offered to God on the cross. And because Jesus lives, we too can live and walk as children of light. We are not alone. We are not left to wage this battle against sin, Satan, and our own flesh on our own. As St. Paul prays later on in this passage: “Awake, you who sleep, arise from the dead, and Christ will give you light.”

For our Lord provides us with lifelines to his saving cross: Holy Baptism – in which we die and rise with him; Confession and Absolution – in which our Lord’s ministers forgive us in his name; the Holy Supper – in which we are united body and soul with our dear Lord and God; and in the preaching of the Gospel – in which our blessed Savior bespeaks his life and love into us again and again.

And so, dear brothers and sisters, let us praise and thank God for giving his holy apostle Paul the words he gives us, calling us to repentance and newness of life. For we know that on our own we are lost and condemned persons – but in his mercy and grace, we are forgiven and are sanctified to “serve him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness.” This is most certainly true.

Let us heed the apostle’s warning, and flee the darkness of sin, running toward the light of the cross. For no matter what our past sins have been, they are all absolved – not because I say so, but because Jesus says so. For Jesus paid the ultimate price, and furthermore, has authorized me to speak these magnificent and universe-altering words to you, right here and right now: “I forgive you all your sins...

in the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.” Amen.