Sermon: Wednesday of Holy Trinity

25 May 2005, Salem L.C., Gretna, LA

Text: John 3:1-17

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Today’s Gospel text is a favorite among Christians – as it should well be. In her collective wisdom, Mother Church has for centuries used this passage as the Gospel reading for the Feast of the Holy Trinity. And this passage is likewise the source of much of what is beloved (and also wrong) in our modern American religious culture.

Jesus tells Nicodemus that in order to be a part of the Kingdom of God, we must be “born again.” To our 21^st century American ears, a certain image jumps immediately to mind. We must have a so-called “born again experience.” We must come to an “hour of decision” in our lives, we must ask the Lord Jesus to “come into our hearts,” and we must live a new life. Notice how many times I used the word “must.” “We must…” “We must…” We must…”

The media speaks of certain kinds of Christians as “born again” – as though one can be a Christian and not be “born again.” In our religious culture – fueled by a media that knows nothing about the true, ancient, apostolic, orthodox, catholic faith – “born again” means something very different than what our Lord speaks of. To them, a “born again” Christian is one who favors “deeds not creeds” (and would hardly be expected to recite the Athanasian Creed as we will do shortly). To them being “born again” means being emotional, raising one’s hands in the air, singing expressive, simple ditties, having no liturgy, and a pastor that likes to call attention to himself. To them, being “born again” typically means being “holier than thou” and often means being a hypocrite.

We Americans thrive on emotionalism. We love nothing more than when someone cries on Oprah, when a basketball player pumps his fist in triumph, or when a politician speaks to us “from the heart.” We love preachers that prance around and make faces and tell us how much they love Jesus. We love the rush of adrenaline that comes with an emotional high, and we confuse this short and passing feeling with the working of the Holy Spirit. Many Christians even go so far as to place this feeling over and above what Scripture teaches and what the Church confesses. After all, shouldn’t we always trust our heart? Shouldn’t we follow what our feelings tell us? Isn’t the warm emotional tingle a better guide to the working of the Spirit than an old, dusty book of Christian doctrine written by Germans 500 years ago?

And so, dear friends, thanks to this misunderstanding, many of those for whom our Lord suffered and died never hear the Gospel. They presume the Christian faith is all about being a nice, caring, touchy-feely person. And why do I need to go to church to be a nice person? We all know what we must do in order to be nice. “We must…” “We must…” “We must…”

Now, to be sure, we must be a kind and caring person. This is the Law. We must love our neighbor as ourselves. We must love God with all our heart and mind. But we don’t. And no amount of singing “And they’ll Know We Are Christians By Our Love” and waving our hands in the air with tears in our eyes will make it so.

And please, dear brothers and sisters, don’t misunderstand me. I am not against emotion. Why shouldn’t we get choked up when we again witness the miracle of our Lord coming to us in his Body and Blood, opening the gates of Heaven, and giving us eternal life? How else can a Christian respond to the unmerited gift, the infinite grace, of our Lord who suffered and died in our place? Of course, there is nothing un-Lutheran about reacting emotionally to the Gospel and to the Sacraments. But the emotion is only a reaction. It is not evidence of the Spirit any more than the rush of adrenaline that comes when our team wins in the final seconds, or when we emotionally enjoy committing a sin that so grieves our Lord. The problem is when the emotion becomes the “means of grace” and displaces the pulpit, the font, and the altar. And this is what most people think of when they hear “born again.”

It is also what comes to mind when people think about our Lord’s words at the end of our text in John 3:16: “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.” Only a stone couldn’t react with emotion in the face of our Lord’s sacrifice, the Gospel, the eternal life given to us by grace. But the emotion is not where the rubber meets the road. The emotion is after the fact. Emotion doesn’t save us, but rather the sacrifice of the Son by the Father, which is grasped by faith given to us by the Spirit. The Holy Trinity’s action in redeeming us is what saves us – not our own tears, raised hands, and music designed to manipulate our emotions. Nor is God’s emotion what saves us. We often misunderstand the “so” in this verse to be a matter of quantity, often expressed emotionally. “God loved the world so, so, very much, that he sent his Son.” But this isn’t how the original text reads. The English word “so” used here really means “thus” or “in this way.” The love of God is demonstrated “in this way,” that God sent his only begotten Son to die for us.

The love manifested “in this way” is true love, self-sacrificing love, love that is eternal and unconditional – not a love based on warm, fuzzy feelings and an emotional high. So what does it mean to be “born again” if it does not mean singing “praise songs” and swaying back and forth?

Fortunately for us, Nicodemus was confused, and our dear Lord, who is called “Rabbi” or “Teacher” explains his choice of words for us. And we do well to heed our Master’s instruction.

Jesus explains the entry into the Christian life not as a choice, not as an emotional act of will power, but rather as a second birth. Being born of the Spirit is similar to being born in the flesh. We are born weak, helpless, and dependent (something our Lord Jesus knows about himself). We are born without any will or decision on our part. We make no choice to be born. We don’t ask to be made alive – rather it just happens to us. And this is just like the Christian life. We are born spiritually with no decision on our part, without any strength of our own, totally dependent on our spiritual parents: the Church our Mother, who brings us to God our Father through Jesus Christ his Son, and the breath of the Holy Spirit gives us eternal life. And while the birth of a child is a deeply emotional experience, emotion does not bring a child into this world. It is rather a miracle, a divine act by our Triune Creator. The second birth is likewise an act of divine creation, a miracle wrought by Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

And just as we are birthed from our fleshly mother’s womb, nourished by blood through a cord, surrounded by a bag of water, we receive our second birth, our spiritual birth, in a similar way. “Unless one is born by water and the Spirit…” says our Lord. We are born again in the womb of the baptismal font, nourished by water, and given new life by the shed blood of our Lord, given to us by our mother the Church. And what could be a better illustration of our Lord’s words than the baptism of an infant? He has no will of his own. He has no ability to decide for himself to be alive. He is completely dependent on mother, father, pastor, and fellow believers to bring him to the font, to birth him a second time.

And, dear Christian friends, look at how the “we musts” dissolve into nothing. To be born again, one need not do anything. The “wind (that is, the Spirit) blows where he wishes.” He gives a second birth to those whom he chooses. And instead of “we must,” we now have freedom. Instead of doing good works out of compulsion, trying to appease God, struggling to climb our way up to him, we are freed from the law. We are thus liberated and empowered to do good works out of love, out of gratitude, out of our new life that comes from the Spirit and water. It is no longer us, but Christ in us, who does good works. The good works, like emotion, come afterwards. They are a reaction, not a cause. And just as there is nothing wrong with good works (God forbid that we Lutherans should fall into that trap!), there is nothing wrong with emotion. The only problem with good works and emotion are when we begin to depend on them instead depending on our Lord.

There is no need ever to use the phrase “born again Christian,” for all Christians are born again. And in case your emotions let you down (as they often do), in case Satan ever manipulates your emotions to attack your faith (as the wicked old serpent so often does), we can do like Martin Luther and shake our fists at the devil, cross ourselves, and proclaim “I am baptized.” For as many of us as have been baptized have put on Christ, are a new creation, and have been born again, of water and Spirit. And whether we respond emotionally or not, this is reality. It is as real as the water that came streaming from the side of our Lord, the water that poured from your mother at your first birth, and the water that was applied to you at the baptismal font…

…in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the + Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon: Pentecost

15 May 2005 at Mt. Olive L.C., Metairie, LA

Text: John 16:5-11 (Joel 2:28-29; Acts 2:1-21) (3 Year)

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Jesus sometimes says things that are hard to understand. And you can imagine how much harder it was for the disciples without having the advantage of hindsight! Jesus, the Messiah who has been promised and expected since God Himself told the devil that a descendant of Eve would crush the serpent’s head, is now telling his followers that he is going to leave them – and this is to their “advantage.”

For thousands of years, the prophets have foretold the savior of Israel and the whole world whose kingdom would have no end. And finally, after so much misery – captivity in Babylon, the destruction and rebuilding of the Temple, occupation by the Persians, the Greeks, and now the Romans, at last, he is here! He was worshipped by the magi, he was declared to be the Messiah by John the Prophet, he did extraordinary miracles – including raising the dead. And now, as the time comes for him to take his throne, he tells everyone: “Well, I’m going away now. And this is to your advantage.” It is no wonder that everyone is too intimidated or afraid to ask him “where are you going?” Just as whenever Jesus started talking about his upcoming death on a cross, the room suddenly got quiet with everyone looking down at their sandals.

This is where faith comes in. This is the really hard part about the Christian life. When our reason tells us one thing, and when Jesus tells us something else, how do we override our reason? This is what it means to have faith – it is belief even when belief seems ridiculous. Such a faith cannot be cultivated by will power, by using reason against itself, nor by making some kind of “decision” to have faith. No, this kind of faith is purely a gift from God, completely by grace, and entirely the work of the Holy Spirit. It is a childlike trust that Father knows best – even when our rebellious egos think otherwise.

So Jesus really puts his hearers’ faith to the test. They don’t want to hear about him going away. Remember when Peter, James, and John witnessed our Lord in his transfiguration glory? Remember how Peter said: “Let’s stay here, build tents, and never leave this glorious place!” But Jesus said “No.” That may have been Peter’s selfish desire, but it was not God’s plan. There’s work to be done, and God has a plan to get it done.

This work is the salvation of mankind, the re-creation of the fallen universe, the reparation of what we have broken. God’s glorious plan is not only to save us from Hell (that alone would be sufficient), but also to re-make all of creation without the stain of sin and the misery of death. He “goes to prepare a place for us,” he said. But to do that, he has to go. Part of the plan of Jesus’ coming is for Jesus to return to his Father for the next phase of the battle plan. Satan is mortally wounded, and now we are in the endgame of the war that will see our final and complete liberation.

So, while Jesus returns to his Father, he needs his ministry to continue on earth. But how can this be done? How can Jesus leave the salvation of the world and the reclamation of the universe in the hands of eleven sinful men – all of whom abandoned him when he was arrested. How could the likes of Thomas the doubter, Peter the coward, and James and John who wanted to be considered better than the other disciples – carry out this work? Clearly, they needed some help – some divine help. They needed God himself.

So Jesus empowers his Church by sending the Holy Spirit to them. Our reading from Acts spells out in great detail how the tiny band of confused men in a very short time became the New Israel that today includes some one forth of the people on the planet. God the Father (the first person of the Trinity) and Jesus (the second person of the Trinity), sent the Holy Spirit (the third person of the Trinity) to continue the work and ministry of Jesus.

And like Jesus, the Spirit is humble. He doesn’t call attention to himself, but quietly carries out the will of the Father and the ministry of the Son. For Jesus tells us in our text that He, the Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Truth, doesn’t speak “on his own authority,” and that he “will glorify me” – that is, he glorifies Jesus, not himself. He takes what the Father has given to the Son, and what the Son has given to the Spirit, and the Spirit showers the Church with these gifts. His job is to guide the Church to truth. Like a rudder, the Holy Spirit keeps the Ark we call the Church pointing in the right direction. Through the work of the Holy Spirit, Jesus is able to steer the ship.

How does this work?

We see in our Epistle text that when the Spirit came, the apostles were given the gift of boldness, the ability to communicate with preaching in such a way that the language barrier was overcome, and the Gospel might go forth unto all the world. In response, the apostles were mocked. They were accused of being drunks – the same thing Jesus was accused of. But they were not drunk with wine, but rather they were filled with the Holy Spirit, which gave them abilities that others did not have.

The language barrier – which came about at the Tower of Babel because of man’s sinfulness – had been overcome, as people of many different nationalities heard the Gospel proclaimed in their native tongues. The fear that once crippled these first pastors was gone. Jesus’ prophecy that it would be “an advantage” for Jesus to go away was being proven true. For instead of only having one Christ to contend with, one preacher of the Gospel, one mouth out of which flowed the Word of God, now the Devil must contend with an army of preachers – all empowered by the Holy Spirit himself, all bearing the Word of God himself, all baptizing, all handing out the Body and Blood of Christ himself – all at the same time, in every nation, and flooding the world with the Gospel in every tongue.

And it was meant to be this way all along. For in our Old Testament reading, the prophet Joel gives us a glimpse into Acts 2 at least six centuries Before Christ. This was the master-plan. The Father would sacrifice his only begotten Son, who would rise from the dead and ascend to the right hand of the Father, and then the Work of salvation would be carried out by the Church with the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. This work will continue until our Lord returns to bring history to a close.

And this is why Paul can say the Church is “the pillar and ground of the truth.” She is guided by the Holy Spirit – whom Jesus calls the “Spirit of Truth.” The Lord himself promised that not even the gates of Hell would overcome the Church – and this is because of the work of the Spirit.

The work of the Spirit is often misunderstood. In the last 100 years – and especially in the last 40 years or so, people in many church bodies have tried to redefine the work of the Holy Spirit. Rather than seeing the Spirit as supporting the ministry of Jesus by empowering the Church to preach the Gospel, they set the work of the Spirit over and above Jesus’ ministry. Some Churches have replaced the cross with the dove. Some churches have turned the Trinity on its head by making the Holy Spirit into a false god to be worshipped apart from the other persons of the Trinity. Some Christians insist that baptism is incomplete without an additional “laying on of hands” that makes you jump up and down and jabber in baby talk. Such teachings don’t glorify Jesus, but rather call attention to oneself. “Look at me! I speak in tongues. I have ‘spiritual gifts,’ and you don’t. All you have is a pastor absolving you. You need more!” Such teachings are false, because they denigrate Holy Baptism and the simple preaching of the Gospel in search of bombastic signs, prophecies, and miraculous “healings.” Such teachings of the Holy Spirit are all about the sizzle and not about the steak, and are alarmingly close to those that are professed in various cults.

This is why the church fathers devoted so much time agonizing about the Trinity. This is why we confess the creeds. In fact, some of the exact wordings in the Nicene Creed were in direct response to a group of heretics called the Montanists – who stressed such a distorted view of the Holy Spirit and championed enthusiastic worship, babbling in nonsense, the claim to the gift of prophecy, and women’s ordination. As Solomon so wisely noted: “There is nothing new under the sun.”

The real work of the Holy Spirit may not be as extravagant as the televangelists and phony faith healers promote – but it is even more miraculous. In the laying on of hands by pastors, the Holy Spirit is given to men to preach, baptize, forgive sins, and feed God’s people with the very Body and Blood of Christ. That sinful men can do such mighty acts for the Kingdom is proof that the Spirit is at work, and Jesus is physically present. That’s the real miracle. In Mark 2, when Jesus forgives the sins of the paralytic, the Pharisees were outraged. Jesus cured him of his paralysis and told him to walk as a sign, as proof of the real miracle – the forgiveness of sins. While thousands of people pack stadiums to watch celebrity preachers strut and make a show of false miracles, the Holy Spirit works genuine miracles every day, in churches around the world like this one, as ordinary men, filled with the Holy Spirit, pronounce the forgiveness of sins in the Name of the Trinity before a handful of people – opening the gates of heaven to those who believe. That belief is indeed a miracle and a sign of the Holy Spirit’s work in the believer’s life.

Similar to when a pastor is ordained by the laying on of hands, when a Christian is baptized in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, he is likewise given the gift of the Holy Spirit, who hovers over the waters as he did “in the beginning” and who guides the Christian into all truth. He is our helper, comforter, and advocate, the one who points us to Jesus and leads us where he may be found: the Church. It is this Holy Spirit that dwells in the temple of the Christian’s body, leads him to the Holy Sacraments, and draws him to where the Scriptures are read, where the Gospel is proclaimed, and where the Body and Blood of Jesus are distributed. He beckons us, woos us, calls us, and broods over us. He is the “Lord and giver of life.” And it is this Spirit’s work in our lives that attracts us to the faith, keeps us in the faith, and sanctifies us as we live out the faith.

And while the Holy Spirit is fully God, and while it is fitting that we pray to him, praise him, confess his divinity in the creed, acknowledge his miraculous works in our midst, and worship him - let us truly honor the Holy Spirit by honoring Jesus. For what pleases the Spirit is when we follow his lead – and that lead takes us to the crucified Jesus, where our sins are forgiven, where our bodies are made fitting temples of the Holy Spirit, and where we pray that the good and gracious will of our Father may be done.

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

Sermon: Thursday of Easter 6 (Exaudi)

12 May 2005 at Lutheran High School Chapel, Metairie, LA

Text: Luke 20:1-8

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Sometimes a question really isn’t a question. The enemies of Jesus – the chief priests, scribes, and elders – “ask” him a question: “Tell us by what authority you do these things, or who is it that gave you this authority?”

At first, it might seem rude that Jesus doesn’t answer their question. That is, until we realize the question is really not a question at all. It is a carefully crafted insult of our Lord, a denial of who he really is. The “question” is really a statement of unbelief in Jesus – which after all, is the unpardonable sin. Jesus could have answered their “question” – but it would have made no difference at all. Sometimes when people “ask” us a question, they already have the “answer.” This is certainly the case with Jesus in our text today.

His enemies ask him by what authority he “does such things.” What things? Jesus has just “cleansed the Temple” – that is, he has just run off the moneychangers and overturned their tables. Jesus had no permission from Herod, nor the priests, nor Pilate, nor the soldiers, nor anyone in charge. But Jesus is God, the Temple belongs to him, he needs no permission. Jesus has authority in himself to create the world, to destroy the world, to save us, to condemn us, to destroy the Temple and to raise it up again in three days – if he chooses. Jesus has authority to lay down his life and take it up again. Jesus is God, he is the Lord, he is Yahweh of the Old Testament. He is the Alpha and the Omega.

But his enemies don’t believe this. This is why they would like to see a note from somebody “in charge” – denying as they do that Jesus is “in charge.”

This is quite an illustration. These people know perfectly well who Jesus is. They know where he gets his authority. They know, but they don’t believe. We modern folks like to turn the word “know” and “believe” into the same thing. “Know Jesus, know peace” says the bumper sticker. But the chief priests, scribes, and elders knew all too well who Jesus was. They watched him perform miracles and preach with authority as they had never seen for three years. They saw him cure lepers before their eyes. And their response? They complained that he did it on the Sabbath.

Yes, these people knew who Jesus was, but they did not believe in him. The demons likewise knew Jesus, just as they know him today. They know, yet they don’t believe. They know Jesus is both God and man, they know he is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. They know who his Father is, and from where he gets his authority. They know, and yet they remain condemned because they do not believe.

Knowledge and belief are two different things. This is why Jesus can refer to infants in Matthew 18 as “those who believe in me.” Infants do not “know” Jesus. They have no intellectual knowledge of him. And yet, unless Jesus is a liar, infants can indeed believe in him. They can indeed have faith. And yet grown men who watched Jesus raise people from the dead and multiply loaves and fishes, and cure the sick by the thousands, men whose lives were spent studying the Law and the Prophets, many of whom knew Jesus personally and intimately – did not believe.

Faith is indeed a great mystery. And Jesus exposes his enemies’ lack of faith by raising the issue they have raised to begin with: authority. Now, Jesus links “authority” to baptism. He asks them: “Is John’s baptism a divine sacrament from heaven, or is it only a symbolic human action?” The elders know perfectly well what John’s baptism is, but they do not believe in it. Instead of simply confessing what they believe, they manipulate an answer based on how their answer will be taken by the people. In other words, they don’t care for what is true, but rather only for what is popular. So they avoid all controversy by refusing to answer the question. Jesus cleverly responds by refusing to answer their question. They already know the answer, they just don’t believe.

But what does Jesus say about authority? First of all, what is “authority”? It’s different than “power.” Authority is delegated, that is, it is passed down the line. The President’s authority flows down from himself, through the generals, through the officers, through the non-coms, right down to the lowest-ranking private soldiers. Nobody gives orders by his own authority – everybody has a boss. If the police search a person’s home, they must have the authority to do so – granted by a judge via a warrant. If you leave the country, when you return, you must establish your authority as a citizen by producing some kind of proof. Even driving a car requires a license of authority.

Jesus has every right to claim ultimate authority – and yet he chooses to act on his Father’s authority. He tells us before his ascension that “all authority” has been given him by the Father. This is precisely what Jesus’s enemies know, but don’t believe. Satan himself knows this, yet doesn’t believe. Jesus humbles himself to submit to the Father. And he passes this authority on to the Eleven disciples when he gives them the commission to baptize and preach. The apostles have passed that authority on through the centuries to bishops of the church today. A pastor doesn’t baptize or preach by his own authority, but only under the authority granted him by Jesus via his ordination.

Authority is the mechanism by which God gets things done. He delegates healing authority to doctors, he delegates teaching authority to educators, he delegates artistic authority to musicians, and grants police authority to secular governments. All authority ultimately flows from God.

As I told you juniors in the ring ceremony – you have authority as student leaders of Lutheran High. But this authority is for the purpose of God using you to get his work done. The purpose of authority is not to lord over people, not to wield authority just for its own sake. Authority is entrusted to us in order to use it wisely, to carry out the Lord’s will with it.

Jesus demonstrated the ultimate authority by laying down his life to take away our sins, and the taking up of his life again in order to become the “firstborn” of those who have conquered death. Jesus explained the true meaning of authority: for the greatest to become the lowliest, for the master to become the servant, for him who has been given much to do much. And he is precisely describing his own ministry here! Jesus, the King of the universe becomes the slave of all mankind. He who is perfect and exalted by angels becomes the carrier of all sin and is spat upon by criminals. He who is the author of all life himself tastes the most bitter death ever experienced. Authority is not about rights, privileges, and power, but rather about service, love, and sacrifice.

And this is precisely what the chief priests, scribes, and elders just don’t get. These are men with authority who abuse their authority to serve themselves. They are so blinded by their selfishness that they cannot see what is obvious: that Jesus has all authority – including the authority to forgive sins and free us from the tyranny of the devil.

They are asking a question that they already know the answer to. They know, but they do not believe.

May our Lord Jesus grant us all the grace to believe and the wisdom to use our God-granted authority to carry out the works the Lord gives us to do.

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

Sermon: LHS Ring Ceremony

7 May 2005 at Mt. Olive L.C., Metairie, LA

Text: Genesis 41: 39-43

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

For as long as history records, rings have been symbols of power. They are worn by those who have authority over others. In our text, taken from the Book of Genesis, we find the patriarch Joseph, about 4,000 years ago, being involved of a ring ceremony of his own. The ring symbolized his status, his authority, his position. It also symbolized his loyalty to the Pharaoh, and his devotion to the people over which he had authority.

There is a rich symbolism in the ring. Rings are circles – no beginning and no end. Thus there is the symbolism of God. Rings are often used at weddings – symbolizing the lifelong unity of married couple. Rings are worn by kings, knights, judges, bishops, soldiers, and graduates of schools. Rings symbolize membership in a brotherhood. Rings are traditionally made of precious metals, and inlaid with rare gems – but often today they are made of less-costly substances. The real value in the ring is in the authority it represents.

In The Lord of the Rings, the ring was a symbol of ultimate power – a power that corrupted sinful men. A power that manifested itself as evil. And so a Fellowship of the Ring was forged, which united warriors from different backgrounds, whose aim was to destroy the ring and rid the world of the destructive power it represents.

You are today being inducted into a similar Fellowship of the Ring. You will wear the ring of Lutheran High School – and you will be united forever into a brotherhood and sisterhood with all of those who came before you, and all of those who will come after you – people from many backgrounds and from all walks of life. Like Joseph, you are being entrusted with authority. No, you may not ride in a chariot and order frightened freshmen to bow the knee to you. No, you won’t be able to bark orders to underclassmen and cut off their heads if they don’t obey. But you are being entrusted with authority.

Today, you become the leaders of the school. You become the examples for the younger ones to follow. Today, you take your place in the history of Lutheran High School in the position of prominence among the student body. Next fall, you will become seniors, and will soon add your name to the ever-increasing list of those who will forever claim Lutheran High School as their Alma Mater, their “nourishing mother.” You are quickly moving from childhood to adulthood. You are being entrusted with this ring as a symbol of your responsibility, your ability to be trusted, your desire to serve your fellow students, and to be a man or woman – no longer a boy or girl.

Today, I’m wearing my own high school ring that was given to me 25 years ago. It’s still a powerful reminder of everything that my school did for me, to shape me into a man, to give me confidence, to challenge me to succeed, and most importantly, to teach me the Christian faith. I still wear my high school ring from time to time because it indeed represents a fellowship that unites me not only to my brothers from my student days, but also to my teachers – some of whom are no longer on this side of the grave. It is an awesome thing to wear this very same ring I wore as a high school student a quarter century ago. It is my prayer that you will put your class ring on in the year 2030 and have it mean the same to you.

For a ring is not only a symbol of power and prestige, it is more importantly a symbol of service, a reminder that authority is to be used for good, it is to be wielded with mercy, it is to be put to service for the benefit of your fellow students. When you wear your ring in public, you will reflect not only yourself, but also Lutheran High School, as well as your classmates. You will also reflect the underclassmen, as well as those who have graduated. Just as your behavior reflects upon your parents, how you carry yourself with this ring on your finger will reflect upon everyone else who likewise wear this ring, every other member of this fellowship. Use your authority wisely.

Perhaps it is for this reason that we bless these rings. It’s an ancient custom to have a pastor give a priestly blessing over rings before entrusting them to the wearer. I am not a wizard – I have no magical powers. But I am a Christian pastor – and I stand in an unbroken succession to Christ and the Apostles. Our Lord has placed me into a fellowship of sorts as well, and I have the authority to bless, sanctify, and set apart these rings for his use.

A blessed ring can’t magically make you score straight A’s on your exams, but your blessed ring can remind you that not only the ring, but the wearer of the ring, is set apart and holy. Let the hands who wear these rings wear them honorably – not for cheating, not for fighting, not for bringing destruction – but rather for honor and for duty. For you too have been blessed, sanctified, and set apart - by water combined with God’s Word – when you were baptized. You became a member of another fellowship – the fellowship of the forgiven sinner in the Holy Church. And this ring will remind you not only of your connection to Lutheran High, but your connection to Christ, the

Most High!

As far as we know, Jesus never wore a school ring. As a king, Jesus had symbols of his office – a throne (made of wood and shaped into a cross). He had a scepter (which was used to beat him). He had a purple robe (placed on him in mockery). The only ring scripture records our Lord ever wearing was a ring of thorns that was pressed upon his innocent head – his “sacred head now wounded” for all of us, bearing the ring of shame that was rightfully our own. Rings carry responsibility – and often indicate the need for us to sacrifice for those under our authority – just as our Lord gave himself for us.

In our text, Joseph was entrusted with his ring only after years of being treated unjustly. He served his masters well – no matter how poorly he was treated in return. He knew who his true master was, and his faith never wavered. He persevered, trusted in God’s plan, and eventually, by the grace of the Triune God, a ring was placed on his finger, and he was entrusted with authority. But even after his triumph, his authority did not exist to glorify himself – but rather to serve the people, to bring the Lord’s salvation to them.

And this, dear Christian friends, is the true meaning of authority. Not long before our Lord was crucified, the disciples got into a fight about who was the greatest. Jesus said: “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them and those in authority are called benefactors. But not so with you. Rather let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves.”

Our Lord’s authority over us was best expressed when he took up his cross and laid down his life for us. He did not lord over us, gloat about his divinity, or treat us as inferior. Our Lord demonstrated his authority by becoming our slave. And by doing so, our Lord takes upon himself our own pride, our own selfishness, our own desire to wear gold rings and boss others around. In taking away our sins, our Lord has empowered us to take up our cross (even as we put on our rings) and follow him.

May this ring always be a reminder of the sacrifices made for you by your parents, your brothers and sisters, your classmates, your friends, your teachers, and most importantly, your Lord Jesus Christ. In this coming year, and forevermore, may the peace of God which passes all understanding keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord. Amen.

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

Sermon: Easter 3 (Jubilate)

17 April 2005, at Mt. Zion L.C. New Orleans

Text: John 10:1-10 (3 Year)

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

When it comes to people who hang around a sheep pen, there are only two kinds: good ones, and bad ones. There are the people who are supposed to be there, and there are people who are not. The ones who are supposed to be there are “shepherds” – the caretakers of the sheep. The ones who are not supposed to be there are there for evil reasons – they are thieves.

If a thief breaks into the sheep’s pen, he will kidnap the sheep. Those who are stolen will be under the care of a person who is not sworn to protect the sheep, but rather one who uses the sheep for his own gain. Such a sheep may find himself at the mercy of a wolf (since the thief is hardly going to lay down his life for his stolen sheep), or on the thief’s dinner table.

Part of the shepherd’s job is to keep the thieves away, to protect the sheep from those who would bring harm. We sheep like to trust everyone, to think the best of people. As a result, we sheep can be swindled or tricked, we can be conned, we can become victims of crime because of our own foolishness or greed. There is always a thief trying to leap the fence and sweet talk us into wandering away from the fold. And no matter how good the thief’s offer may sound, we sheep need to know it’s a lie – a great lie that began in the Garden of Eden. For we know who is pulling the thief’s strings, and filling his mouth with beautiful temptations for us to hear.

But we sheep really know, deep down inside, the voice of our Shepherd. He is not a thief, but our caretaker. He does not hop the fence to our pen and make us all kinds of offers that sound too good to be true. Rather, the Good Shepherd enters by the gate (he has no reason to sneak) and he tells us the truth – all the while he feeds us, waters us, calls us each by name, and stands in the gate ready to lay down his life should a thief or a wolf attempt to bring us to harm.

We know his voice – it is his Word. We hear his voice when we hear: “I forgive you all your sins.” We hear his voice when we hear “I baptize you in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” We hear his voice when he says “Take, eat. Take drink. This is my body. This is my blood. For the forgiveness of sins.” And we sheep rejoice in our shepherd’s voice, for we know that his Word is truth! We know that he, unlike the thief, will stop at nothing, even death, to protect us from the roaring lion “seeking whom he may devour.”

By heeding the voice of our Shepherd, we can come and go in our lives, always finding green pastures and still waters, that we may have life, and have it to the full. In fact, when the stranger comes into the pen, whose voice sounds strange, whose gospel is not the same as that of the Good Shepherd and his apostles, we need to run away. Such strangers are thieves. They may even wear sheep’s clothes, or wear a shepherd’s vestments – but if their voice is not that of Jesus – dear Christian people, run for your eternal lives! No matter how many promises of prosperity and success are promised by smiling people on TV who bear the title “Reverend” (and who also bear Rolexes and Rolls Royces), beware that such people are robbers and thieves. They do not work for the Good Shepherd, but rather work for the Enemy. They preach a gospel that tickles our ears, but is a lie. Their gospel is no gospel, not good news, at all, but bad news. Listen to the voice of the preacher. If you hear the words of our sinful, greedy flesh instead of the words of Jesus – who gave us his very flesh and blood – run away from that preacher.

But where do we run when we are assaulted by liars, thieves, and false preachers?

Our Lord provides us with an army of his assistants. The word “minister” means “servant.” The ministers of the church are in the service of the Good Shepherd. When they speak, they speak only for Jesus. The Latin word for “shepherd” is “pastor.” Before Jesus ascended into Heaven, he called and ordained the first eleven pastors, even as he told Peter “feed my sheep.” Jesus shepherds us by use of his minister-pastors, who speak only his words, and carry out only his orders. They are to only preach his Gospel, and speak only his Word. Jesus told them “when they hear you, they hear me.”

In our first lesson, we are told that our Lord’s sheep in the early church “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and to the fellowship, to the breaking of bread, and to prayer.” This is what we do every Sunday in church. We pray, we join one another in fellowship, we break bread, and we listen to the teachings of the apostles, the teachings of our pastors, the teachings of the Holy Church throughout the ages. We hear the same Gospel every Sunday as did the church in today’s lesson – and this is the very voice of the Good Shepherd himself.

We trust the Word of the Good Shepherd as proclaimed by the church. We know who Jesus is by what he does. As our epistle lesson words it: “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in his mouth.” He suffered for us. “When they hurled insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats.” He “bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live to righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. For you were like sheep going astray, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.” Just as Jesus bore his cross, so does the church. Just as Jesus was hardly successful in the eyes of the world, so goes it with the church. “Do not despair, O little flock,” as the hymn says. As his flock, we must strive to be faithful to him, not striving for numbers and “success” in the eyes of the world. The Christian life is a life of cross-bearing and struggle. It is not what the world considers desirable or worthy.

So when you are assailed by thieves, liars, preachers of the “prosperity gospel,” workers of false miracles, those who prey on the desperate, those who do a high-pressure shakedown for money over the TV – run from these false shepherds. They are wolves in shepherds’ vestments. And run to the shepherd the Lord himself, the Good Shepherd himself, has provided for you, to feed you and to take care of you – your own shepherd, Pastor Nare.

He knows your voice, and he cares about each one of you. And likewise, you know the voice with which he speaks, it is not his own voice, but the voice of Jesus: the Word of God proclaimed in the Holy Gospel, and given out to you in the Holy Sacraments. And Jesus promises something more wonderful and amazing than anything a slick TV preacher can promise: Jesus promises us life, that we may have it to the full – that is to say life eternal, life as it was meant to be before the thieves and robbers and serpents tricked us into abandoning the voice of our Good Shepherd. This is the life that knows no sorrow, no pain, no loss, and no death. This is what our Good Shepherd brings us, and he is the only gate through which we can enter. There is no other name by which we can be saved, but by Jesus alone.

So let us joyfully heed the voice of our Shepherd who loves us, and has proven that love by dying for us. Let us joyfully receive pardon for all of our sins from Jesus’ minister-pastors. Let us joyfully feast on the life-giving Body and Blood of our Lord. Let us joyfully recall our baptism every day, and every moment when we doubt, every time we make the sign of the cross, and every time we have something to be thankful for. We know the voice of our shepherd, and we know where we hear that voice. And let us praise our Good Shepherd now, and for all eternity. Amen.

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

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.