Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Tuesday of Lent 1

28 Feb 2023

Text: Mark 3:20-35

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Jesus is swamped by people to the point where He can hardly move.  His own family cannot understand what is happening, and some are even concerned for our Lord’s mental health.  And to top it all off, the scribes, the partners-in-crime of the Pharisees, are now accusing Jesus of being “possessed by Beelzubul” and that He “casts out demons” by being in league with demons.  Of course, our Lord points out the obvious illogic of their assertion.  They hate Jesus so much that they don’t even make sense in their denunciations of Him.

We certainly see this same thing today, as Christians are accused of being evil for upholding the Word of God.  We are called bigots and hypocrites and – to dust off an old epithet from the first century – we are referred to as “haters.” 

But the accusations against Christians make no more sense than the equivalent accusations against Christ.  Jesus said that we would be treated the same way, for as He warned us: “A disciple is not above his teacher (Luke 6:40), and, “You will be hated by all for my name’s sake” (Matt 10:22).

And those who treat the church this way should beware, for it is one thing to lie and to mistreat people.  It is another thing to commit an “eternal sin” of blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.  For calling that which is holy, that which bears the Holy Spirit, and to call this Holy Spirit an evil spirit, is nothing more than a lack of belief.  It is a stubborn, willful, and hardened lack of faith.  And given that faith is required for salvation, those who blaspheme the Holy Spirit, those who describe Christ and His followers as evil, those who push away the very one who can save them – they are teetering on the edge of permanent irredemption and condemnation.  They need to repent before it becomes “an eternal sin.”

Our Lord takes the situation of His family members seeking after Him, apparently hindered by the crowds, to teach us something about the kingdom and the church.  Jesus looks at His disciples around Himself, and He says: “Whoever does the will of God, he is My brother and sisters and mother.” 

And so when we pray “Our Father,” we are confessing that we share our Lord’s status as a child of God: Him by eternal begottenness, and we by adoption and the new birth of water and the Spirit.  And when we pray “Thy will be done,” we are asking for the very thing that Jesus says is a sign that we are His family.  And when we pray, “Deliver us from evil,” we are petitioning that we may not fall into the great sin of unbelief, to be taken over by the one who truly is Beelzubul: the “prince of demons.”  We pray for deliverance from this evil one, which is to say, we pray for faith.

So dear friends, let us follow Jesus.  Let us pray the Lord’s prayer, again and again.  Let us strive to do the will of God, and pray that His will be done.  Let us not allow hatred and insults to move us from our Lord, our brother according to our flesh, and our Savior according to His blood.  Let us pray for deliverance from evil.  And let us praise the Father with Jesus: “Thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory, forever and ever.”

Amen.

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

Sermon: Invocabit (Lent 1) – 2023

26 February 2023

Text: Matt 4:1-11 (Gen 3:1-21, 2 Cor 6:1-10)

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

We began this season of Lent, as we always do, with Ash Wednesday.  At the beginning of that liturgy, even before Confession and Absolution, we began with the imposition of ashes, and with the words: “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”

And today, half a week later, the first Sunday in Lent, we remember yet again what this is all about.  Once again, we are called upon to remember – remember our past, remember our mortality, remember why we die.  We remember how we got here. 

We need to remember because we are forgetful.  There are so many other things competing for our attention.  For because of the Fall in Eden, we are cursed to work.  And because we have to work, we have to have transportation and tools and time invested in our work.  And so we need to work even more.  Because of the Fall, goods are scarce.  And so we have to eke out a living.  And because we work so hard, we need down time and vacations – and they are sometimes even more work.

None of these things are bad, dear friends.  God calls us to different kinds of work to love and serve our neighbor, as well as to support our families.  God gives us little breaks in the routine for our mental and physical health.  But today’s readings are a warning not to forget what is really important, what Jesus told Martha was the “one thing [that is] necessary” in the midst of her work and service to Him and His disciples: to hear the Word of the Lord.  For God’s Word reminds us of what we too often forget: that we are in this mess because of sin.

Our forgetting of God’s Word is not simply a matter of bad memories or of too many irons in the fire, dear friends.  Eve turned away from the Word of God because she was tempted by the devil.  “Did God actually say…?”  “You will not surely die.”  “God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God.”  The tempter distracts us and then lies to us.  He slithers up to our ears and whispers temptations to us to abandon the Word of God.

“So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband who was with her, and he ate.”

Remember, O man.

And indeed, their eyes were opened.  They realized that something had changed.  They had left God’s protection.  They brought death upon themselves, the Garden, the world, and their descendants to come.  This is where it all started, lest we forget.

God told the man that the ground was cursed, and he would have to work for a miserly share of scarce food, and at the end of it all, he (and all people) would die.  God told the woman that bearing children would be painful, and the harmonious relationship between men and women would be poisoned by a desire to rule and not be ruled.  God told the serpent that a man would be born of a woman who would come into the world as a champion to redeem mankind.  And though the serpent would bruise His heel, this Messiah would bruise the head of the serpent.  This Christ would be mankind’s hope of vindication even in the midst of death.  And as we will learn, this Savior will defeat death by dying.  He will overcome the sin of the tree of knowledge of good and evil by dying as a result of sin on the tree of the cross.  He will redeem the woman who was the mother of all humanity by being born to a woman.  He will heal our breach of God’s Word by fulfilling God’s Word.  He uses God’s Word as a weapon against the devil.  For He is God’s Word made flesh.

And so when our Lord does come, fulfilling the prophecy of the human champion who will smash the head of the devil, we see their combat in our Gospel reading.  Right after His baptism, “Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.”  This is their first direct confrontation, at least as recorded in Scripture. 

This text is also a reminder.  Lest we forget that God promised a Savior, and that God fulfilled that promise in Jesus the Christ, lest we forget that we cannot defeat the devil by our own strategy and righteousness, we are reminded that “for us fights the valiant one whom God himself elected.”  We are reminded that “God, the Son of God should take our mortal form for mortals’ sake.”

We are reminded of the power of the Word of God.  For even in His suffering and temptation, our Lord Jesus Christ beats back the serpent by means of the Word.  Three times, the Serpent asks Jesus “Did God really say…?” by offering Him a deal that is contrary to God’s Word, and three times Jesus responds with “It is written.”  For things are written, dear friends, so that we will not forget.  So that we will remember.  The Scriptures are written so that we will call them to mind when we are tempted.  And they are “written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.”

And with the third and final “it is written” in our Lord’s battle with the devil, Jesus says to him, “Be gone, Satan!”  They will meet again in combat at the cross, where Jesus will indeed deliver a mortal blow to the serpent’s head, not just ordering him, “Be gone,” but making him be gone.

Before this encounter between Jesus and the devil took place in the wilderness, Jesus was baptized.  This is important, dear friends.  For it points us to our own baptism as the basis of our own battles with Satan.  For in Holy Baptism, the powerful name of the Triune God was placed on you by command and invitation of the Messiah, the Christ, the Champion and Vindicator of mankind. 

And the fact that “You are dust, and to dust you shall return” was not the first thing you were called to remember on Ash Wednesday.  For before the imposition of ashes, there was the invocation of the Trinity: “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”  This is the name into which we are baptized.  It is our remembrance of baptism. 

Remember, O man.

It is our baptism and the Word that strengthens us for battle against the devil, as well as against his allies of the world and our own sinful nature.  We cross ourselves in remembrance of baptism, and in remembrance of the cross, where Jesus was bruised in His heel, but where Jesus bruised the head of the serpent.

And so, lest we forget, our victory over the devil is in Christ.  He is the Victor.  And by means of Word and Sacrament, He gives this victory to us.  He teaches us how to do combat with the serpent: by calling to mind the Word of God.  By living in your baptism.  By strengthening yourself and breaking the fast of this world’s scarcity by eating and drinking that which strengthens both body and soul: the very body and blood of the Christ who defeated the devil and rescued us.

On this day, we remember the fall into sin, and the rising up of Jesus against the devil.  We remember being tempted to set aside the Word of God, and we remember the Word of God being weaponized against the devil.  We remember the cross, upon which Jesus crushes the head of the devil on our behalf. 

So let us remember how to fight, dear friends.  Let us remember not to grow weary or give up.  Let us remember our baptism and the defeat of Satan by the Word of God. 

Remember, O man.

Amen.

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

Sermon: Ash Wednesday – 2023

22 January 2023

Text: Matt 6:1-6, 16-21

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

To many tourists in our area, today is Wednesday of Mardi Gras week: a continuation of the celebration of Carnival.  But to us Christians, today is Ash Wednesday.  We have put the feasting behind us, and now is the time for fasting.  For life in this fallen world goes back and forth between the feast and the fast.  “To everything there is a season,” says King Solomon, “and a time for every purpose under heaven.”

Contrary to what many think, Carnival and Mardi Gras are Christian festivals.  It is a period of godly rejoicing in anticipation of godly fasting.  And now is the time in which we fast, we mourn for our sins and plead for God’s mercy in preparation for Good Friday and Easter.  We symbolically spend forty days in the desert with Jesus in self-denial, waging war against the world, the devil, and our sinful flesh.  Lent is a reminder of the very real combat in which we are engaged against the forces of evil.

Our Gospel today comes from our Lord’s Sermon on the Mount.  Jesus says, “When you give to the needy,” “when you pray,” and “when you fast.”  He doesn’t command us to do these things.  Rather, He just assumes that this is what Christians do.  And when we do these things, we are not to do them “in order to be seen by others.”  For that motivation will be rewarded with a temporary good feeling that we have impressed someone.  And that is a shallow and short-lived reward compared to eternal rewards from our heavenly Father, who knows our hearts.

“And when you fast,” says our Lord, “do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward. But when you fast, anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you.” 

Some people refuse to participate in the rite of ashes for fear that it is showing off and doing just what our Lord says not to do.  Rather, we should wash our faces and keep our piety hidden.  But, dear friends, the ashes don’t represent fasting.  For what did I say to you when I imposed the ashes on your forehead?  “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  The ashes are not a sign that you are fasting, dear brothers and sisters.  Rather they are a sign that you are dying.

Every year, I put ashes on the foreheads of my beloved parishioners, and every year, some of them die.  The ashes remind us of what we often try to forget.  And the ashes are applied to the newborns, the elderly, and everyone in between.  For we all suffer the mortal ailment known as sin.  We have been returning to dust since the days of Adam.

Remember, O man.

It is a sobering thing for a pastor to impose ashes and pronounce this remembrance upon everyone, especially the blissfully ignorant children.  And to look out at all of you and see a visible manifestation of your mortality staring me in the face is sobering and jarring – even after nineteen years of marking you with ashes. 

The ashes, which symbolize both sin and repentance, are placed on you in the shape of a cross: an ancient symbol not only of death, but of suffering and shame.  This torture was invented by the Romans.  And although they understood it differently than we, the Romans did connect death with sin, as the cross was used as capital punishment for crimes.  St. Paul would later write to the Christians in Rome that “the wages of sin is death.”  

Remember, O man.

But when Jesus was crucified, dear brothers and sisters, this symbol of death became a symbol of life.  For out of love for His creation, God took on our mortal flesh, He suffered, He shed His blood as a sacrifice, and He died for us upon the cross.  And because His death atones for our sins, curing us of death, and because He rose from the dead – we now see the cross as a symbol of life!

What’s more, the ashes are mixed with oil – a symbol of baptism.  For it is an ancient custom to trace oil in the sign of the cross on the newly baptized person’s forehead.  Christ, the anointed one, is put on by the baptized person.  This is why some people call baptism a “christening.”

And because Jesus exchanged our sinfulness for His righteousness, and because we have been baptized into the name of the Most Holy Trinity, and because He has promised us everlasting life – St. Paul can complete his sentence to the Roman Christians: “The wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. 

The sign of the cross is also made over the elements of Holy Communion.  And we often cross ourselves upon receiving the body and blood of Christ.  We also make the sign of the cross when we are forgiven in the name of the same Triune God into whose name we are baptized.  What a dear and beloved symbol this cross has become.  And what a joy that the ashes are applied in the shape of this symbol of life!

And so, dear friends, being forgiven, being drawn into our Lord’s cross, we can now truly give alms to the needy – not trying to earn salvation from God or the praise of men, but rather because we have been made rich by grace.  We can share our abundance – material and otherwise – with others.

And also, whether we are in a time of feasting or fasting, we have the privilege to pray, to call God our Father, to present our petitions before Him as His dear children, to pray, praise, and give thanks, not to impress God with our piety to earn His favor, nor to be seen by others, as the hypocrites do, who pray for show on the street-corners.  It is not just our duty to pray, but our joy. 

And also, we can fast, as a means of self-discipline, to help us better appreciate what we have been blessed with, to offer our bounty to others in need.  We take up our cross, deny ourselves, and follow Jesus.  We do not fast to try to impress God with our works, nor do we put on the face of a person who is suffering for want of food, in order to be seen and praised by men, like the hypocrites.  No indeed. 

We give to the needy, we pray, and we fast because that’s just what Christians do, always in gratitude to God for what He has first given us in Christ Jesus.  For in this ashen remembrance of death, we also remember His death.  We remember His cross.  We remember that we are baptized into His name.

For when the Lord bids us to remember, we also call to mind the entire span of history, of how He comes to His people, in love, in sacrifice, in service, rescuing us, restoring us, recreating us. 

And He is doing that to you, dear brother, dear sister, right here and right now, by the mighty power of His Word.  That remembrance continues in the present.  He is recreating you in the midst of whatever crosses He calls you to bear – even the cross of our mortality.

Remember, O man.

Calling to mind our mortality – which to the Christian is not destruction, but rather the portal to eternal life – also calls to mind the promise of the resurrection, that we are moving toward a new heaven and a new earth, and toward living in flesh that will never return to dust. 

And this dust we bear now in this life is also a reminder of the futility of storing up treasures here on earth, dear friends, “where moth and rust destroy, where thieves break in and steal.”  Rather the ashes in the shape of the cross remind us to lay up for ourselves “treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal.”

In remembering that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, we are also reminded that “where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”  Our hearts are not fixed on the dust and ashes of this dying and decaying world, but rather our hearts are fixed upon the crucified one, whose blood forgives our sins, whose baptism renews us, who gives us the free gift of eternal life, and whose grace and mercy endure forever. 

So, dear friends, let us begin this journey with Jesus, this fast, this time to repent and look forward not only to the feast of the Easter Season, but also the never-ending feast to come in eternity, where fasting will be no more.

Remember, O man.

Amen.

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

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Feb 21, 2023, Mardi Gras

21 Feb 2023

Text: John 7:1-13

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

At this point in John’s Gospel, Jesus is carrying out His ministry in Galilee.  For “He would not go about in Judea,” explains John the Evangelist, “because the Jews were seeking to kill Him.”  This made for a decision for Jesus to make, since the Feast of Booths “was at hand.”  This festival involves Jews making a pilgrimage to Jerusalem and living in a tent (also known as a booth).  So on the one hand, if our Lord attends the feast, those who seek to kill Him may attempt to have Him assassinated before His time.  On the other hand, if He does not attend, He will not have access to the children of Israel, for whom He has been sent first (Matt 15:24).

And so publicly, our Lord says, “My time has not yet come.”  His assassins will indeed get their wish, which is why our Lord took flesh in the first place – but only when it is time according to the Father’s will.  At any rate, Jesus sends His “brothers” – who did not believe in Him – to the feast.  He is going to remain in Galilee.

But He does not remain long.  He goes to the feast “not publicly but in private.”  Rather than announce His arrival and give His opponents a chance to organize, our Lord engages in a kind of sneak attack – much like His coming in human flesh thirty years before.  For the Incarnation is a kind of invasion, even as the Crucifixion will be a cunning military operation to crush the head of the enemy (Gen 3:15). 

And when the Jews who “were seeking to kill Him” could not find Him at the feast, they said, “Where is He?”  This is a profound question.  Where is Jesus?  For many sought Him for many reasons.  Some were oppressed by sin and its effects: in need of forgiveness, in need of healing, in need of exorcism, and even in need of resurrection.  Where is Jesus?  Some were curiosity seekers looking for a show, wanting to see signs and wonders.  Where is Jesus?  Some were malignant and wanted to murder Him.  Where is Jesus?

This question still applies today.  Where is Jesus?  Some seek Him for forgiveness, life and salvation.  Where is Jesus?  Some are seeking signs and wonders in entertainment worship and revivals and charismatic gifts.  Where is Jesus?  Some are unbelievers who wish only to mock and destroy the church.  Where is Jesus?  The answer, dear friends, is that Jesus is found in His Word and promises.  Apart from the Word we cannot apprehend God.  We find Him in the signs and wonders of the Sacraments: physical elements empowered by the Word of the Word Made Flesh to give us His gifts. 

And even as in that day, “there was much muttering about Him among the people,” so there is today.  People seek to make Jesus in their own image, reducing Him to a symbol of their own skin color, ethnicity, and political viewpoint – as malleable as a comic book character recreated in a “universe” of the author’s own imagination.  But along with the question, “Where is Jesus?” is the question of “Who is Jesus?”  And we objectively confess Him to be God in the flesh, the Son of the Father, who is also fully man.  He lived in time, He died, He rose again, and He lives and reigns in eternity.  We find Him on the cross.  We find Him in the proclamation of the Gospel.  We find Him in the Word.  We find Him in the Sacraments.  We find Him in our neighbor who is to be served.  We find Him when our neighbors serve us.  And we will find Him when He returns in Glory.  For He will return just as He departed, and we would do well not to be surprised, and not to be asking “Where is He?” 

Amen.

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

Sermon: Quinquagesima – 2023

19 February 2023

Text: Luke 18:31-43

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

St. Luke tells us something that Jesus said, and something that Jesus did – in that order. 

Our Lord tells “the twelve” what is going to happen.  But not what is going to happen right away.  He tells them how the kingdom of heaven is going to come to earth.  He begins with a little word that’s easy to miss in the text.  He says, “See.”  It could also be translated as “behold” or “look.”  But Jesus isn’t showing them something to look at with their eyes.  He is not asking them if they see the magnificent sunset, or telling them to look at a beautiful flower.  Instead, He is telling them, “Look, this is what is going to happen.”

He is, in a sense, asking them to see it in their mind’s eye.  He is asking them to see something unexpected, and unpleasant, something different from their expectations, as they are headed to Jerusalem.  He tells them to see, “Everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished.”  He tells them to see His betrayal to the Gentiles, His being mocked, shamefully treated, and spat upon.  He tells them to see His flogging and murder, and that “on the third day He will rise.” 

We can see all of these things in hindsight, dear friends.  For these events have happened.  They changed the world.  They changed us.  We have read and we have heard and we know the story, but Jesus is asking the Twelve to “see” something unexpected in their future.

For they probably see themselves through a lens of worldly glory.  They probably see Jesus going to Jerusalem to be crowned with gold instead of with thorns.  They probably see Jesus using His miraculous powers to kill the Romans rather than to be killed by them.  They probably see themselves as the new ruling council instead of as being scattered after their Master is declared a criminal by the old ruling council, and put to death. 

And they can’t even begin to see the resurrection, let alone what that means for us.

And “they understood none of these things,” says St. Luke.  “This saying was hidden from them, and they did not grasp what was said.”  He asked them to see, but they could not.  At this time, their eyes have not yet been opened. 

But as they “drew near to Jericho,” they ran across a beggar.  And this is the part of the text where Jesus does something.  The beggar is a blind man.  He hears a ruckus, and finds out that it is Jesus of Nazareth.  He has never seen Jesus.  He has never seen Jesus perform a miracle.  He has only heard this good news with his ears.  He has only heard eyewitness reports.  But based on his belief that what he has heard is true, he calls out, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”  Some people tell him to “be silent,” but instead, he repeats his prayer that the Lord Jesus would have mercy upon him – which we do at the beginning of the liturgy: “Lord, have mercy upon us.  Christ, have mercy upon us.  Lord, have mercy upon us.” 

He hears with his ears the Word of Jesus: “What do you want Me to do for you?”  And so He answers our Lord’s question with a prayer: “Lord, let me recover my sight.”  And “Jesus said to him, ‘Recover your sight; your faith has made you well.’”  And St. Luke says that without hesitation, “immediately,” in fact, the man “recovered his sight and followed [Jesus], glorifying God.”  And those who saw this miracle, “gave praise to God.”

This is remarkable, dear friends! 

For the Twelve, our Lord’s closest disciples, who have seen Him perform miracle after miracle, sign after sign, for three years, cannot “see” what Jesus asks them to see.  Their lack of faith in His Word and in His Father’s will, their own pride and preconceived notions, all conspire to blind them.  “See,” Jesus said to them.  But they cannot.  And so they do not understand.

But compare this to the blind beggar, dear friends.  He cannot see, but he can hear.  And St. Paul told us in Romans, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ.”  He heard the good news of Jesus Christ, and he believed what he heard.  And this Word, and his belief in it, dared him to “see” in his mind’s eye that Jesus would hear his prayer, and that Jesus would restore his sight.  Maybe he even “saw” that he would become a disciple himself.  He was blind, but could “see,” unlike the Twelve, who could see, but could not “see.”  The blind man’s faith was kindled by the good news of Jesus being proclaimed to him, though he saw nothing with his eyes.

But in God’s kingdom, dear friends, we don’t see with our eyes, but rather we see by faith, we live by faith, and we receive God’s gifts by faith.  For with our eyes, we see water.  But we hear the good news attached to it.  And we believe Jesus when He promises to work mightily through His Word and promise, combined with the water.  We hear this good news, and we “see” salvation and redemption with the eyes of faith.  And with our eyes, we see bread and wine.  But we hear the good news attached to them.  And we believe Jesus when He promises to work mightily through His Word and promise, combined with the bread and wine.  We hear this good news, and we “see” salvation and redemption with the eyes of faith. 

And as our Lord told the blind beggar, “Your faith has made you well,” so too is this message for us, dear friends.  The beggar’s belief in the Word of God allowed him to see that Jesus could heal him.  And by God’s grace and by our Lord’s mercy, this beggar would no longer have to beg – for he received his sight.  He would “see,” and now he can see.

We do not see Jesus at work with our eyes.  He has ascended to the Father.  Like the blind beggar, we hear the eyewitness reports.  We hear the Word of God.  We hear of His going to Jerusalem to fulfill the prophets.  We hear of His arrest, passion, and crucifixion “also for us under Pontius Pilate.”  We hear that “He suffered and was buried.”  We hear that “on the third day, He rose again, according to the Scriptures.”  We hear that He “ascended into heaven, and sits at the right hand of the Father.”

We hear this, but cannot see it.  But we do “see” it, dear friends, with the eyes of faith.  For “faith comes from hearing.”

And so the kingdom comes to us.  Our blindness that we suffer at the hands of the devil, the world, and our sinful flesh is taken away, as we “recover [our] sight.”  Our sins are forgiven.  Our separation from God is no more.  Our hope is no longer in this fallen world and its empty promises of wealth and glory, but rather in Jesus, in His Word, in His promise, in His blood, in His resurrection, and in “the life of the world to come.”  As Dr. Luther said as he neared death: “We are beggars.  This is true.”  Lord, have mercy upon us.  Christ, have mercy upon us.  Lord, have mercy upon us.

Let us hear the Good News.  Let us believe the Word.  And let us see the kingdom. 

Amen.

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

Sermon: Sexagesima, 2023

12 February 2023

Text: Luke 8:4-15

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

In our fallen world, we understand how things work.  The biggest and most violent person typically gets his way.  Might makes right.  Truth is judged based on convenient narratives.  To advance in this world, you must take other people down.  Lying and ruthlessness are rewarded.  What you see is what you get.

But in God’s kingdom, you can’t always trust your eyes.  Looks are deceiving. 

And so when Jesus comes proclaiming the kingdom, He has to teach us what that means and how it works.  For even the religious leaders operated based on the Law and their ability to lord over others.  They also had no sense of morality, as we will see them lie and deceive and plot to kill Jesus, even as they knew that He was innocent.

Jesus comes to show us a more excellent way – the way, the truth, and the life, the path that leads us back to the Garden of Eden, providing us a trail that takes us to a restored paradise, though it leads first to the cross.  Our Lord turns the world upside down and replaces it with the “kingdom of God” over which He reigns as our Lord and Master.  The kingdom does not work like the world.  There is more than meets the eye.

But there are little glimpses of the kingdom in the world.  For example, in creation itself.  We know that God created trees and “plants bearing seed,” and that seed, in turn, reproduced and spread life around the world.  We know that everything that a tiny seed needs to do is programmed into its DNA by God.  Given the right conditions, a tiny seed, seemingly weak and insignificant in the eyes of the world, germinates, puts down roots, puts forth branches, bears fruit, and then produces more seed – and the process of life multiplies.

Jesus teaches us that this creative imprint of God, from the beginning, is how the kingdom works as well. 

So Jesus tells us a story about a farmer who sows seeds.  But in this story, not every seed grows to be a tree.  For this isn’t taking place in the perfect Garden of Eden, but rather in our fallen world – a world of incompleteness and death.  So most of the seed meets a premature end, and never comes to fruition.

In our Lord’s story, the first batch of seeds “fell along the path” and “was trampled underfoot,” only to be eaten by the birds. The second batch “fell on the rock,” in rocky soil, where it sprouted, grew quickly, but without moisture, it too died fruitless.  The third batch “fell among thorns” and the little plant grew up, but was choked out.  The fourth batch “fell into good soil,” and it does exactly what God created it to do, according to the embedded instructions, the logic, the words coded into the DNA.  It sprouts, puts down roots, sends up a stem, shoots off branches, grows, and eventually bears fruit, even “a hundredfold.”

After telling this story, our Lord “called out, ‘He who has ears to hear, let him hear.’”

Do you have ears to hear, dear friends?  Do you understand this parable as it relates to God’s kingdom?  Well, even if you don’t understand the story, Jesus explains what it means.  We call this story the Parable of the Sower, but most of the story isn’t about the sower, but rather about the various kinds of soil.

Jesus explains: “The seed is the Word of God.”  And so the sower is the preacher.  The seeds of the preacher’s words go into the ears and hearts of his hearers, like seeds falling on four different types of soil.

And so the first person hears the Word of God preached, but his heart is hard, the seed remains on the path, and the devil snatches it up before it can even begin to take root.  Such a person may hate God, may be so enamored by sin that he wants nothing to do with the Word of God.  Maybe he just doesn’t care.  But at any rate, he doesn’t believe.  And he resists the seed of the Word so that faith will never germinate in his heart.

Another person hears the Word of God preached, and he receives it “with joy.”  But the shallowness of his life means that the Word can’t take root in him.  He will believe “for a while,” but “in time of testing” will “fall away.” 

A third person hears the preaching of the Word of God, but is busy: busy with cares, busy with riches, busy with pleasure.  He hears the Word, and even believes it.  But his belief gives way to other priorities.  He may even bear some fruit of the Christian life, but his fruit “does not mature.” 

And I have seen and ministered to each of these three people over the years.  I’ve seen Satan rob people of their faith.  I’ve seen people come to faith with eagerness, but burn out quickly, not able to handle their faith being tested.  I’ve seen people who just have too many other things going on, and the church and worship and the Word decrease in importance, little by little, bit by bit – until their faith dies, like the very end of a flame in a fireplace.  “Cares and riches and pleasures.”

But Jesus tells us about a fourth person sitting in the pew.  He hears the Word.  It penetrates into his heart.  The Word, like the DNA in the seed, guides the believer in his life of faith.  He continues to hear the Word, takes in water and nourishment, grows up and grows stronger.  He holds his faith fast, “in an honest and good heart,” and in time, he bears fruit, even a hundredfold.

And yes, dear friends, I have seen this fourth person many times as well.  The beauty of it is that God does it all.  We will grow and bear fruit if we simply get out of the way.  Don’t give Satan a toehold.  Don’t be shallow and don’t fall away in a time of testing.  Don’t allow your faith to be just one more box to check in the course of life.  If you hear the Word of God preached, holding the Word fast, if you allow the Word to have its way with you, if you receive it honestly – both the Law that convicts you of sin, and the Gospel that forgives you and builds you up – you will bear fruit in the kingdom. 

It is all about the Word.  So come to the Divine Service, every week.  Commit to it as if your life depended on it – because it does.  Your eternal life depends on you hearing the preached Word, and believing it.  Jesus is not lying to us.  Do you have ears to hear?  And the more you read and study God’s Word at home, in Bible class, listening when you’re driving – the more the Word will take root in you.

You might be skeptical, like you perhaps were the first time someone handed you a seed as a child and told you to put it in dirt.  It just doesn’t look like this is going to work.  A little seed, some dirt, water, and sunshine?  But yes, dear friends, it works.  The tiny seeds, programmed by God thousands of years ago, are enough to feed every person and animal that has ever lived.  This is how it is designed to work.

And Jesus tells us the kingdom of heaven works like seeds.  Jesus even teaches us how to avoid the pitfalls and how to bear fruit.  And the good news is that the power does not lie within the farmer, nor within the soil.  The power is in the little seed, in instructions so tiny that they cannot be seen by the eye.  Maybe this is why our Lord doesn’t call out, “He who has eyes to see, let him see,” but rather, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”  For as St. Paul teaches us in Romans, “Faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the Word of Christ.” 

So dear friends, let us receive the seed of God’s Word with joy, knowing that He is embedding into us, in the words of St. Peter, “The words of eternal life.”

Indeed, “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”

Amen.

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

Sermon: Wittenberg Academy – Feb 7, 2023

7 Feb 2023

Text: John 2:1-12

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Water, wine, and a wedding.  This is what we see in “this, the first of His signs” which “Jesus did at Cana in Galilee.”

And this is part of an eternal pattern.  For “In the beginning was the Word.”  And “the earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep.  And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters” (Gen 1:1-2).  On the third day, “God said, ‘Let the earth sprout vegetation’” (Gen 1:11).  And God “planted a garden in Eden” (Gen 2:8) and placed the man in a lush garden.  And finally, He provided the man with a wife, “Bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh” (Gen 2:23), said the man.

Jesus has come to recreate the world anew – to undo the damage to the world by this first married couple in their sin.  For the curse descended upon us that there would be scarcity of things in this world (Gen 3:17-19), and strife between husbands and wives (Gen 3:16).  Jesus comes to bring peace – between God and man, and between men, and between husbands and wives. 

And this is His first sign.

And so, “on the third day there was a wedding.”  We see the water in the “six stone water jars” for the “Jewish rites of purification.”  We see wine at this celebration, but the “wine ran out.”  The scarcity that plagues fallen man appears yet again to impose misery upon the joy of married life.  Of course, our Lord transforms the water into wine, and He has “kept the good wine until now.”  He transforms sinners into saints by means of His Word and the wine of His blood.  He cleanses us, His bride, “that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish” (Eph 5:26-27).

And we will see water, wine, and a wedding appear again: at the cross, and in eternity.  Water and blood will pour from the side of Jesus at the cross (John 19:34).  He will rise again “on the third day” (Acts 10:40). He will drink the new wine with us in eternity (Matt 26:29).  And eternity will be a wedding banquet for the church and her Bridegroom (Rev 19:7). 

Water, wine, and a wedding.  This is what we see in “this, the first of His signs” which “Jesus did at Cana in Galilee.”

Amen.

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

Sermon: Septuagesima – 2023

5 February 2023

Text: Matt 20:1-16

In the name of + Jesus.  Amen.

Our Lord Jesus has to tell parables to describe the kingdom of God.  The kingdom doesn’t work like our sinful, fallen world that we take for granted.  So in order to get the message across, Jesus has to tell stories that compare the way the world works over and against how God’s kingdom works.

This parable is called “The Laborers in the Vineyard.”  It’s a story that most people can relate to.  Almost everybody has a job, or had one at some point.  Even our children in the congregation have likely done chores or some kind of work, and have gotten paid.

Well, what if you are working for someone who is unfair?  Would you get angry?  What if parents paid their children to do some work around the house, and the hardest working child, and the lazy one that didn’t do any work, both got paid the same?  What if you are working for a company, and your coworker gets paid more than you do for doing the same job?   Would you bring it up to the boss?  If you had a union, would you file a complaint?  Would you complain to the Labor Relations Board?

It is not a bad thing that we have a sense of fairness.  But in God’s kingdom, fairness is the last thing that we should want.  For God created us, gave us life, and made us to be perfect and eternal – but our ancestors ruined it – and we also continue to ruin it by means of our sins.  So if God is going to treat us fairly, if he is going to rule us with justice and equity – we would be cast into hell.  For according to the rules and regulations, according to the Law of God and the natural law of morality, we deserve to be paid accordingly, as St. Paul says: “For the wages of sin is death.”

And so when a man is on death row, his lawyer doesn’t file paperwork asking for justice.  Rather, he petitions the judge for clemency, for mercy, for justice to be overlooked in this case.  The lawyer writes a request for a pardon from the governor.  Because in a just world, the guilty man dies. 

Well, we are all guilty.

And so in order to explain all of this in a way that people can understand, Jesus spins a magnificent tale.  He tells a story.  And it can be summed up like this:

A boss hires workers early in the morning and promises to pay them a denarius – the standard wage for a day’s work.  He hires other groups later in the day and promises to pay them “whatever is right.”  The last group only works one hour before the sun goes down and the workday is done.  The boss pays the workers in reverse order, the last first.  And they receive a denarius: a full day’s pay for one hour’s work.  The men who worked all day under a contract for a denarius thought it only fair that they receive more.  But the boss pays them the same amount of pay for twelve hours as he does for those who worked one hour.

These men who worked all day “grumbled at the master of the house,” because they saw it as unfair.  But the master replied, “Friend, I am doing you no wrong.  Did you not agree for a denarius?  Take what belongs to you and go.  I choose to give to this worker as I give to you.  Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me?  Or do you begrudge my generosity?”

In God’s kingdom, we work.  But we do not work for a payment.  Rather, we receive from the Master based on grace and mercy.  We are not paid what we deserve, but we are paid according to His generosity.  If we had to earn our way into the kingdom, if we had to work off the debt of our sins, our situation would be hopeless.  And so God does something unfair: He gives us that which we don’t deserve.

And so none of us can boast about our “riches” based on the belief that we have earned our salvation, whether by buying it or by earning it with good works.  God chooses to give more to some and less to others – and it is unrelated with how hard you work.  St. Paul put it in a way that sounds shocking to our ears: “And to the one who does not work but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness.”  Or as in Jesus’ story, the ones who worked only one hour have been made the equal of those who bore the burden of the day and the scorching heat. 

God’s kingdom is unfair, and there is no Labor Relations Board or union rep to complain to.  Why would we?  We are given  much more than we deserve: “the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  And when one “believes in Him who justifies the ungodly,” it is his faith, not his labor, that brings in the denarius – the symbolic amount of a ticket to heaven.

We do not work to earn the denarius, but rather Jesus has performed the labor.  Jesus has “borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat” on the cross.  We do not deserve the denarius, but we receive it anyway.  Even we who are last, who are the least worthy, we who maybe even received the free gift of salvation on our deathbeds, or in the execution chamber, we who believe are permitted to go to the front of the line and be first.

And nobody has the right to begrudge the Master’s generosity, or to grumble that we deserve more – when all the while it is Jesus who has done all the work.

Indeed, instead of grumbling, we ought to be grateful.  Instead of complaining, we ought to be rejoicing.  Instead of bemoaning the unfairness of the world, we should praise God for His own unfairness – the unfairness that brings us to the table of honor  as if we were a member of the royal family! 

For that is exactly what is happening, dear friends!  We, who are unworthy, we who have rebelled against our King, are being invited to dine with the King at the table.  And there is no-one who has a right to complain about our presence.  For the King has spoken!

The King has spoken, and bespeaks you righteous, forgiven, and one of the household of the King’s beloved – by means of His Word and promise.  And He has given this same undeserved gift, this denarius, to me and to countless others across time and space, men and women of every tribe and tongue, the good and the bad, the ones whose labor we admire, and the ones who did not labor at all.  All of us walk away with a shiny denarius, a token that bears not the image of Caesar, but rather of Christ. 

For indeed, the kingdom does not work like the fallen world, marred by sin, turning us all into jealous grumblers who are always looking for something to be offended about.  Instead, the kingdom is comprised of people bearing coins that they did not earn and do not deserve, whose response to the generosity of the Master is gratitude and joy. 

“So the last will be first, and the first last.”  And thanks be to God for it!  Praise be to Him for His generosity, and with what He has chosen to do with what belongs to Him!”

Amen.

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