27 October 2019
Text: Matt 11:12-19 (Rev 14:6-7, Rom 3:19-28)
In the name of +
Jesus. Amen.
Doesn’t
this sound familiar?
“John
came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, ‘He has a demon.’ The Son of Man came eating and drinking, and
they say, ‘Look at Him! A glutton and a
drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!”
The
people that hate Jesus have their ‘talking points.’ No matter what He does, it is evidence that He
is a scoundrel. This is called a “narrative”
– which is in a way sad, because a “narrative” really just means a “story” or
an “account.” But today, you never get
the facts – you get a “narrative” to advance someone’s agenda. It may be true. It may be false. It may be a mixture. But in the world of the narrative, what
matters is making people hate what you hate at all costs.
Jesus
pointed out their hypocrisy, and He continually left them with egg on their
faces. They hated Him enough to send Him
to the cross.
Sadly,
over the course of centuries, the church had become corrupt. Its leaders were more interested in politics
than preaching, in the wealth that is measured in gold coins than the wealth of
God’s grace. Sometimes the church told
the truth. Sometimes it lied. And sometimes it was a mixture. But all that mattered was to keep the vast
majority of Christians giving money and obeying their leaders. If they believed in Jesus, fine. If not, well, that was okay too. But if they could be kept frightened and
confused, all the better!
This
went on for centuries, dear friends. Great
men and women of the church complained and agitated for reforms. Some were burned at the stake. Most were simply ignored or silenced. By the sixteenth century, the church was a
cesspool of corruption and false doctrine. Even faithful Roman Catholics knew it, and
were ashamed.
And
so a group of professors who started a department of biblical studies began to
call out the narrative. They saw that
what the church was teaching was not true. And they took to their pens and their pulpits
and their classrooms. And the Gutenberg
press put their writings in the hands of ordinary people. One of their leaders was a monk, priest, and
doctor of theology named Martin Luther. He
was a scholar, but often wrote in the common manner of ordinary people. He was rude, sometimes crude, often very
funny, and he could be downright mean. He
published articles so fast that it could be said that he was the father of
social media. And if he were around today,
he would, no doubt, be in Facebook jail.
He even published memes that would make a sailor blush.
But
for all of his bluster, Luther was a pastor. He loved his flock of believers, and he hated
how they were being fleeced by wolves in sheep’s clothing. On October 31, 1517, he became a
theses-poster, nailing a world-changing document to the church door. However, Luther thought this was going to be
an obscure Latin text for intellectuals to debate – until his students
translated it into common German and it went viral among the common people.
His
opponents learned quickly that this was no mere troublemaker, but a deeply
intelligent theologian. And so, unable
to beat him man to man, the Roman theologians did what the enemies of the cross
always do: they spun a false narrative. They
called Luther a “heretic” and anyone who agreed with him was a “Lutheran” they
said. Not a Christian. Not a Catholic. A heretic. When Luther asked to be shown by Scripture and
plain reason why they thought he was wrong, they cited contradictory witnesses from
outside of Scripture. They attributed
beliefs to him that belonged to others. They
also threatened to burn him at the stake if he didn’t recant.
And
that, dear friends, is how you can sniff out a false narrative like a chicken
farm in North Georgia: instead of a reasoned argument, you get called names and
threatened with violence. And they shut
down your ability to speak and write.
“From
the days of John the Baptist until now,” says our Lord, “the kingdom of heaven
has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.”
And
what was the church’s false narrative, dear brothers and sisters? It was that you must earn your salvation, by
good works. And those good works include
giving money to the church. For to them,
the Gospel was a commodity to be bought and sold – a form of false love prostituted
for filthy lucre. The church was selling
what Christ gives away for free by virtue of His blood shed on the cross. And when the narrative was exposed, people
were very angry. For centuries they had
been scammed. And those days were over. The German princes – many of whom may not have
cared about religion – certainly understood the flow of money from German
princedoms to a Roman bishop. And it
also must be said that many of the German princes really were faithful Christians,
and they risked life and limb to protect Luther and the other reformers – as well
as the little flocks of faithful who were being threatened with physical harm
for nothing other than confessing what we heard read from the Epistle to the Romans:
“For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law.”
Our
reformation forbears confessed the pure Gospel because they were once more studying
the Bible. They learned Hebrew and Greek
so as to read it in the original languages. They went back to the sources, and they saw
the blazing light of truth that exposed the darkness around them. They were filled with joy, and they were
filled with rage. They were motivated by
zeal, and they were motivated by love. Once
more, churches would resonate with the Word of God in the language of the
people. Pastors would once more preach
sermons. Choirs and congregations would
once more sing hymns proclaiming the Good News of forgiveness, life, and
salvation. The sacraments were once more
administered out of love, not out of threats.
The
false narrative was destroyed in our churches, dear friends, and the people of Wittenberg,
of Germany, of Europe, and even to the ends of the earth sang, even as we do
today, “A Mighty Fortress is our God.” They
taught their children the catechism. They
took part in Masses in their own languages.
They studied the Scriptures with their pastors, and even began reading
the Bible at home. The Reformation was
electric. It was so extraordinary, and
instilled such a reinvigorated faith that it was like the prophecy in Revelation:
“Then I saw another angel flying directly overhead, with an eternal Gospel to
proclaim to those who dwell on earth, to every nation and tribe and language
and people.”
The
glorious Gospel stands in stark contrast to the narrative that sought to bilk
the people of God out of their coins. The
church’s narrative was not just a filthy lie, it led people away from our Lord Jesus
Christ. There will be hell to pay for
what the leaders of the church did, dear friends. Even the Roman Catholic writer Dante, in his satirical
story about Hell, pictured certain popes by name burning face down in their own
filth. This kind of writing may be
shocking, but when people realize that they have been lied to by fat-cats and
hypocrites, it makes them mad.
But
rather than wallow in our anger, dear friends, let us wallow in the love of Christ.
Let us honor our reformation heritage by
continuing to confess the clear words of Scripture with all due humility and
joy: “For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the
glory of God, and are justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that
is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by His blood, to be
received by faith.”
There
it is, dear friends. From St. Paul and
from the Holy Spirit. This is what the
narrative was designed to hide. But it
is hidden no more! This Gospel is for
all of us: “every nation and tribe and language and people.” And if they want to call us “Lutherans,” so
be it. Add it to the list of what we are
called in the Bible and the confessions: Evangelicals, Catholics, Orthodox, and
Christians. We are those washed clean in
the blood of the Lamb, forgiven, and given the free gift of eternal life. We know this from Scripture, and no narrative and
no threat from church or state can take that away from us. Here we stand.
God help us. Amen.
In the name of the Father
and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
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