Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Sixteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 18B)

September 8, 2024

Text: Mark 7:24-37

            Lord God, heavenly Father, hear now our prayer, and free us from bondage to the devil.  Open our ears that we may hear Your saving Word, and our lips that we may praise You, and confess Your Word aright.

            In our Holy Gospel this day, God answers our prayer in the Person of His Son, Jesus Christ.  And that, bodily, in the flesh.  He invades all the places where demons haunt.  He meets us right we are broken, in all the vital parts that must be healed if we are to be His own, if we are to be Christians. 

            This is evident in our Holy Gospel.  It is astonishing… and you should be astonished!... He goes to the last place we would expect the Jewish Messiah to go…  Gentile territory.  Pagan territory.  Tyre and Sidon.  The Decapolis.  North of the Sea of Galilee.  And He interacts with the last people we would expect the Jewish Messiah to interact with… Gentiles!  A woman.  A Syrophoenician (dogs, we Jews call them!).  A deaf and mute man. 

            And He doesn’t just interact with them.  He cares for them.  He has compassion on them.  Even touches them.  And the results are: Answered prayer, release from bondage to demons, the opening of the ears, and the ability (the freedom!) to speak clearly. 

            This is what Jesus has come to do.  To invade and take possession.  To release what is bound, and to heal what is broken.  And what He does in our Gospel for the woman and her daughter, and for the deaf and dumb man, He does for us in the reading and proclamation of this Scripture.  That is, He is doing it for you at this very moment.

            It is hard for us to admit… In fact, we resist confessing it… we hate to acknowledge it…  We are born, every last one of us, in bondage to the devil.  Well, our first parents sold us for a bite of forbidden fruit, and that would be enough, yet we’ve been selling our own selves ever since.  And we’re deaf.  Some of us physically, to one degree or another, like the man in our text.  But here we are speaking of a deafness to God, to His Word, to His Voice.  We are born without ears to hear.  And we are dumb.  That doesn’t mean stupid, as it has come to mean in common parlance, but unable to speak.  There are people who are physically unable to speak, like the man in our text.  That often goes along with congenital deafness.  The ear and the mouth work together, and we must not underestimate the bondage of these physical afflictions, nor the miracle of the physical healing bestowed upon the man in our text.  But note this: You must be able to hear if you are to speak clearly.  We learn to speak from hearing, and saying back the things we hear.  And so, if we cannot hear the Word of God… if we are deaf to Him… neither can we make a faithful and true confession.  Confession of faith comes from hearing the Word. 

            Well, what is God to do with us, born as we are in demonic bondage, deaf and dumb?  He comes to us.  That is what He does.  The Father sends His Son.  Jesus.  God in our flesh.  To deliver us.  To rescue us.  To heal us.  To make us whole.

            Now, He doesn’t do it the way we would have Him do it.  We have our ways, but He has His ways.  And, to be honest, it’s a bit of an embarrassment how He goes about the whole business.  Sometimes He plays with us.  He tests us.  As with the woman in our text.  She comes, begging Him, falling down at His feet.  She’s heard about Him.  She’s heard the Word.  Please, Lord, cast out the demon from my precious daughter.  I’ve heard about You, and I know You can do it.  What is His answer?  A seeming refusal.  And a belittling racial slur.  “Let the children be fed first,” that is, the Israelites, “for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” (Mark 7:27; ESV).  The dogs!  To be sure, the word is a diminutive form, probably indicating a pet dog, but note the implication.  The Israelites are humans, the Gentiles are not.  The Israelites are entitled to the Lord’s help.   The Gentiles are not.

            Now, you know the rest of the story.  The woman, on the basis of the Lord’s own character, which she knows by what she’s heard of Him, grabs hold of the Promise inherent in Jesus’ response.  “Yes, Lord,” it is true, I am an unworthy dog, but I am at the feet of my Master, where I belong, and “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs” (v. 28).  It is a tremendous statement of faith, and we should emulate it.  The Lord commends it, and gives the woman what she asks.  Faith receives.  The little girl is freed from the demon’s possession. 

            But isn’t it true that God often plays with you in this way?  You pray.  You beg.  You fall on your face before Him.  And He seems as though He doesn’t care.  Callous.  Aloof.  Perhaps even annoyed at your petitions.  What does He want from you when He does this?  He wants you to grab hold of His Promises.  Take your place as a dog at your Master’s feet.  Acknowledge your unworthiness.  Agree with Him, and confess it.  Gratefully licking up the crumbs from the Table.  That is enough, Lord.  That is enough. 

            It’s embarrassing how He delivers the man, too.  Fingers in his ears?  Spitting and touching His tongue?  But then, how else are you supposed to communicate with a man who is deaf and dumb?  It’s all so earthy, so fleshy.  The physical nature of it offends our spiritualistic sensibilities.  But there must be no spiritualistic barrier between the man of dust and the Lord’s touch.  This is an act of re-creation.  Looking up to heaven, a prayer.  A sigh.  God’s Son breathing forth His Spirit, the Spirit of life.  Now the ears are open to hear, and the tongue loosed to speak.

            Is this not what He does for us?  He pokes Himself into our ears, in Scripture, in preaching, that we may hear Him.  The spittle of His mouth, His Word, looses our tongues, that we may speak clearly, confessing Him, and all that He says.  His touch… the Sacraments.  Baptism.  The Supper.  His real, substantial, bodily presence.  No barrier.  The real touch of the real Lord for real release and real healing. 

            The bodily Jesus is God’s answer to our prayer.  We pray for deliverance, and God sends a Man from Nazareth.  And it seems like He must be playing with us.  But, in fact, this Man from Nazareth is God’s invasion of creation, to overthrow the old wicked tyrant.  He gives Himself over to the devil’s hordes, bodily, to be tortured and killed.  But the serpent bites off more than he can chew.  The Man from Nazareth is risen from the dead.  And it is He who rescues you, He who touches you, He who heals you, and infuses you with His resurrection life.

            And so, you do now have ears to hear, and lips open to confess.

            And to pray.  Don’t miss that about this Gospel.  The woman prays to Jesus for her little daughter.  Jesus hears and answers her prayer.  Those from the crowd beg Jesus to help the deaf and dumb man.  Jesus hears and answers their prayer.  So now… what do you know He will do for you?  When you pray for your children?  When you pray for your friends?  When you place a need… your own, or that of another… before Him, begging Him to help?  He may test you.  He may play with you.  He will drive you to cling to His Promises.  But so also, He will come down to you.  He will get down into the gutters with you, all the way down into flesh and blood with you, even into pagan territory with you, to hear you, and answer you… to answer your prayers.  To be the answer to your prayers.

            Even you, a Gentile sinner.  He has come to deliver you.  He has come to heal you.  He invades all the dark places in your life, your mind, your heart, your soul.  With His presence.  To touch you.  To create you anew.  To make you whole.

            O God, deliver us from demonic bondage.  Open our ears and our lips to your Word.  His answer is yes.  He is doing it now.  His answer is Jesus fulfilling this Gospel in your hearing.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                     

 

 

Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Fourteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 16B)

August 25, 2024

Text: Mark 7:1-13

            The problem isn’t tradition.  The fact is, you have many traditions you hold sacred and inviolable.  Family traditions.  Holiday traditions.  Traditions that unite you with others, and fill your time together with meaning.  A tradition is simply a thing which has been handed on, or perhaps handed down from a previous generation, from the Latin tradere, which means to hand over.  I’ll bet you have one tradition which isn’t all that different from the Pharisees and Scribes.  Your mother handed it over to you.  That is, wash your hands before you eat.  If that isn’t your tradition, it should be.  Gross!  But not because “Thus saith the LORD.”  Not as a matter of merit before God.  Not for the reason the Pharisees observe the custom.  Not as a matter of protecting yourself against the uncleanness of Gentiles and sinners.  Rather, because that is how you protect yourself and your neighbor against the spread of germs.  Or, at the very least, because in this way, you honor your mother, which is your Fourth Commandment duty.

            But we Lutherans often make a false distinction between Scripture and tradition.  It is true, not all traditions are scriptural.  Rome and the East add human traditions (as well as the magisterium) to Scripture as a rule and norm for their doctrine and life.  We should not do this.  Some traditions may be sinful, in which case we ought not participate.  But other traditions may be fine and good, but neither commanded nor forbidden in Scripture.  In that case, they are a matter of Christian freedom.  We call the adiaphora. 

            But strictly speaking, beloved, by definition, Scripture itself is a tradition.  The Bible has been handed down to us.  And all within the Bible is the handing down to us of God’s self-revelation.  God hands it down through previous generations of the faithful.  It is literally tradition.  St. Paul, for example, uses the word in any number of places.  Here are just two examples from First Corinthians.  First, with regard to the Lord’s Supper, 1 Corinthians 11, “For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you,” handed on, παρέδωκα in Greek, tradidi (tradition!) in the Latin Vulgate, namely, “that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread,” etc. (v. 23; ESV), whereupon follow the Words of Institution for the Lord’s Supper.  The Words of Jesus, recorded in the Gospels, and the Supper itself, are traditions handed down. 

            Okay, second, from the great resurrection chapter, First Corinthians 15 (v. 3 ff): “For I delivered to you,” handed on, παρέδωκα, tradidi, tradition-ed to you, “as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that he was buried, that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas,” etc.  Sounds like the Creed, doesn’t it?  The Creed, whether we’re talking Apostles’, or Nicene, or Athanasian, our creedal faith is a tradition, handed down to us, from previous generations, yes, and from the Scriptures themselves. 

            And here is the point: These are divine traditions, not over against the Scriptures or the Commandments of God, but they are the Scriptures and Commandments of God.  It is important to keep this in mind in light of our American Lutheran inclination toward anti-traditionalism.  Some traditions are from the Bible, and it is a sin not to keep them.  Jesus isn’t preaching against these in our Holy Gospel.  The Ten Commandments, including the Fourth Commandment, are traditions handed down to us in Scripture.  The Lord’s Prayer is a tradition handed down to us in Scripture.  Much of our liturgy is just the singing of Scripture as it has been handed down to us.  Don’t hear in this Gospel that you should never keep traditions.  That is just the rebelliousness of your sinful flesh. 

            Then, as we said, there are helpful and godly traditions not handed down in Scripture, but propagated by the wisdom of previous generations.  We already mentioned family traditions.  Perhaps we could have mentioned civic traditions, like singing the national anthem.  For our purposes, we can think also of religious and Church traditions: the folding our hands and bowing our heads for prayer, kneeling, making the sign of the cross.  The furnishings of the Church.  The robes on the pastor.  And so on.  These are matters of Christian freedom, to be sure.  We adopt some, and forego others without sin.  We dare not insist on these things as a matter of merit before God, or the test of orthodoxy.  But here G. K. Chesterton’s warning is apropos: If you don’t see the use of something… in his analogy, it is a fence… don’t just tear it down.  Go away and think about what the use might be.  Ask.  Investigate.  Then, if you know the use, you have the freedom to tear it down.  But you just might agree, once you know the use of it, that the fence, the tradition, is a very good thing.

            But if the problem isn’t tradition, then what is Jesus preaching against in our Holy Gospel?  Two things: First, the hypocrisy of honoring God with the lips, while the heart is far from Him.  And second, preferring the traditions of men over the commandments of God, thus making void the Word of God by those very traditions.

            The Pharisees and Scribes honored God with their lips.  “We observe these traditions, like washing our hands, our pots and kettles, our dining couches, because of our great piety.  In this way, we display our righteousness, especially over against the common people, and these ignorant disciples of Jesus, who dive right into the meal before the ceremonial washing.”  What is the issue?  Not the washing.  Go ahead, wash your hands.  Again, I encourage it.  But the thinking that such washing makes you righteous before God, and the comparison of your show of righteousness over against others.  Self-righteousness is the issue, self-justification, rather than justification by Jesus Christ alone.  And the tearing down of others to make yourself look good in your own eyes, in the eyes of others, and in the eyes of God.  How do we do that?  Maybe not with washing our hands (although maybe that, especially in recent years).  How about, “I make the sign of the cross, and that guy doesn’t, therefore I am a better Christian than he is!”  Or, “That guy makes the sign of the cross, the show off!  The Pharisee!”  “I do what I do because I am more righteous than that guy, who does what he does.”  Repent of that, beloved.  Repent of that.  Mark this: Any shred of self-justification, as opposed to justification received as a free gift in Christ, by His righteousness, betrays a heart far from God.

            Second, the Pharisees taught their own man-made traditions as doctrine, even over and above the Commandments of God.  So Jesus gives the example of Corban, saying to one’s parents, “Sorry, Mom and Dad, I can’t help you in your old age, because whatever money I would use to do that, I’ve given to the Church.”  Now, giving money to the Church is a good and noble thing.  But not over and above our Fourth Commandment duty to care for our mother and father.  That makes void the Word of God in favor of a man-made tradition.  How do we do similar things?  How about (just for example), “I know what the Bible says about sexuality and marriage, but I have to support my sister living together with her boyfriend, or my son’s homosexual relationship, because, you know… love!”  That is making void the Word of God by a rather popular social tradition.  “I know what the Bible says about God’s gift of life, but I have to support my daughter in procuring an abortion, because she’s too young to be saddled with a kid.”  That is making void the Word of God by the tradition of conventional wisdom, which is anything but.  Where have such deceptions taken root in your heart, beloved?  Repent of that.  Repent.

            Hold fast to what God has handed down to you in Holy Scripture.  Not traditions over and above the Word of God, but the Word of God itself handed down to you.  Christ died for you, for the forgiveness of your sins.  Christ is risen for you, for your justification and life.  He alone is your righteousness.  He restores you to the Father.  He pours out His Spirit upon you.  His Words are Spirit and Life (John 6:63).  Keep them.  Guard them.  Observe them.  Do them.  Treasure them.  And then, yes, keep the best traditions of men in service to what is handed down from God.  The robes.  The furnishings.  The folding of the hands.  Find out the use of the thing.  Keep whatever is good.  Discard the rest. 

            And honor your mother by washing your hands, because that is what she told you to do, and it is good.  But above all, rejoice, that whether you washed before the meal or not, you and your neighbor are clean, because you’ve been washed in Jesus.  Baptism.  And having been washed in Jesus, it’s time to eat.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                             

Household & Heritage Conference

Household & Heritage Conference Vespers

Shepherd of the Hills Lutheran Church, Rathdrum, Idaho

August 24, 2024

Text: Luke 18:15-17

            We dare not come between Jesus and the babies.  Luke uses the word infants in our text, βρέφη, the word for newborns, or even babies in utero.  We dare not come between Jesus and the βρέφη.  What does that teach us about the sanctity of life inside the womb?  What does it teach us about the sanctity of newborn life entrusted to our care?  Then, Jesus uses the general word for children in our text, παιδία.  So, unborn and newborn, infants, and children of all ages.  What is our responsibility toward them?  What is our privilege?

            We should be like those bringing the infants to Jesus, that He might touch them… and not like the disciples, who rebuked them.  The poor disciples, they just didn’t understand.  Their fallen minds had been shaped by the culture, to regard infants and children, born or unborn, as somehow less human, of lesser dignity, less worthy of Jesus’ time and attention, than were adults.  And so, in rebuking them, the disciples excluded them from Jesus’ saving presence and Gospel gifts.

            Do we do that?  How have our fallen minds been shaped by our culture, to regard infants and children, born or unborn, as somehow less human, of lesser dignity, less worthy of Jesus’ time and attention, than we adults?  How have we rebuked them and excluded them from Jesus’ saving presence and Gospel gifts?  

            Of course, abortion, by its very nature, does this, robbing Jesus’ precious little ones of life, and opportunity to know Him, and receive His saving touch.  We commend these helpless victims to His mercy (it’s a great tragedy, and it is possible that they are lost), and we must speak clearly to the world, and to our fellow Christians (to one another), on this issue.  Abortion is not healthcare.  It is not a right.  Abortion is murder.  We must work and pray for its abolition.  And we must love and care for those who have fallen prey to the demonic deception that they had no other choice.  We must speak Christ’s forgiveness and mercy to them, and care for their emotional, spiritual, and bodily needs.

            But it hits closer to home.  What about unduly delaying Baptism for weeks, months, or years on end, for sentimental reasons (we want Aunt Freda to be there, and she can only come next year), or because we simply despise the gift, failing to recognize that Baptism is the saving touch of Jesus that gives to babies His Spirit and faith, and brings them into His Kingdom, His Family?  (Incidentally, I’ve heard ad nauseum during the course of my ministry, parents say they want to wait until their child gets older, and can choose for him or herself, whether they want to be baptized.  Well, the answer to that is, you’ve already made the choice for them.  You either choose to raise them in the faith, or you choose to raise them outside the faith.  There is no third, in-between, option.) 

            How else do we hinder the children from coming to Jesus?  How about keeping them out of the Divine Service?  After all, they don’t understand what is happening, what is being said, and they distract the rest of us, so… children’s church!  Stuff them off in another room where they’re neither seen, nor heard.  No.  No, beloved.  That robs them of hearing the living voice of the Savior… of simply being with Him in His House, in His presence, not to mention learning the liturgy by heart before they even understand the words, growing up into mature Christians who participate in the life of worship, the sacramental life of the Church.  It teaches our children that the Divine Service is not for them.  And then we wonder why they grow up and stop coming to Church!

            What about Sunday School?  Or, whatever you call it.  I like Blessed Sacrament’s “Augsburg Academy.”  Catechism?  Other congregational activities?  Do we bring our children, encourage our children, show our children the importance of these things by our own example and full participation?

            What about catechesis in the home?  From the beginning, even when they are too small to comprehend, teaching our children the Scriptures.  That their whole life be molded by the Scriptures.  Bible stories.  Daily readings.  Catechism.  Prayer for and with them.  Teaching them the Psalms, prayers, and hymns of the Church.  Morning and evening prayers, and prayers at mealtime.  Daily contact with Jesus in the home. 

            This matters.  It makes all the difference between the parents who faithfully bring their babies to Jesus, that He might touch them… and the disciples who hinder and rebuke them.  Jesus says, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:16; ESV).  How do you let the children come to Jesus, and make sure you don’t hinder them?  Baptism.  Divine Service.  Catechesis.  Home devotions.  Constant prayer.  Teaching, teaching, teaching.  And, when the time comes, and the child has been instructed and examined, the Supper.  Every week.  As often as possible.  And you, too!  Because you need it.  And because you are leading by example. 

            Where have you failed?  Confess it.  Don’t deny it, but confess it.  Confess it to Jesus, who forgives your sins.  And do not lose heart.  Because the Promise in this text for the infants and children, is the Promise for you, too.  You receive the Kingdom of God and enter it like a child (v. 17).  And that is to say, as pure gift, by the saving and healing and sin-forgiving touch of Jesus, by His Words of Spirit and Life addressed to you, not by your own merits or works, but by His grace alone.  Like the precious babies who delighted in the Savior’s touch (and I have to imagine, He took them up into His arms, and held His precious little lambs close)… who believed in Him, implicitly trusted Him, because that is the gift He gives in His touch, the blessing He imparts.  That is what He does for you in your Baptism.  That is what He does as His Words enter your ears, so that He takes up residence in your mind and heart and soul and body.  That is what He does when He touches you, feeds you, with His true body and blood in the Holy Supper.  Jesus, who became a βρέφo~ of the Virgin Mary, for you.  Jesus, who died for you.  Jesus, who is risen and lives for you.  Now in you, and you in Him. 

            You want your children to have that.  You want other people’s children to have that.  Are you a parent, or grandparent, aunt, uncle, or sibling?  You want the children in your life to have that.  Bring them to Jesus, that He may touch them, and by His bodily presence impart His life and salvation.  Are you a Godparent, a baptismal or catechetical sponsor?  This is especially your duty.  And what if you don’t have children in your life, at least not directly?  You still know those who do.  Especially the children and parents of the Church.  Pray.  Pray for them.  And as opportunity presents itself, be involved in bringing the little ones to Jesus.

            And each one of you, always, be a little one before Jesus.  One in His arms.  One who receives.  Grace alone.  Faith alone.  Christ alone.  The gift is yours, dear βρέφo~.  The very Kingdom of God.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.        

Video: Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost

Thirteenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 15B)

August 18, 2024

Text: John 6:51-69

            Even Jesus has people leave when He preaches about eating His flesh and drinking His blood.  It isn’t just a peculiar Lutheran teaching.  It is Jesus’ teaching.  “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.  Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (John 6:53-54; ESV).  This offends the Jews who are following Him.  “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” (v. 60).  And they all desert Him.  All but the Twelve.  It’s not so different today.  The world rules this teaching archaic and foolish.  Christians… even Lutherans… even you… find the saying hard.  Next to justification by grace alone, through faith alone, in Christ alone, it is this very issue that divides so much of Christianity since the Reformation.  It is not just a question of the Lord’s Supper, but of the very incarnation of Christ, His taking on human flesh in the womb of the Virgin Mary, so that we can say our God is a Man, Jesus of Nazareth.  So what Jesus says in our text about His flesh and blood is an offense both to human reason and pious Christian sensibility.  Our God is a flesh and blood God.  He is a Man.  And we eat Him.  Really.  With our mouths, we eat His body, and with our mouths, we drink His blood.  And in this way, by this eating, He gives us eternal life and marks us for bodily resurrection on the Last Day. 

            Do you find that teaching offensive and hard to hear?  Join the club.  Everybody leaves but the Twelve, and I suspect the Twelve thought it was a hard saying, too.  But, as Peter says on behalf of them all when Jesus asks whether they also want to leave, and as we sing with him in the holy liturgy, “Lord, to whom shall we go?”  We really don’t know what else to do.  For “You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (vv. 68-69).  And here’s the thing about believing in Jesus.  When you believe in Jesus, you believe His Word, no matter how hard it is to hear or accept.  Because this Man is God.  He cannot lie.  So when He says He is flesh and blood, and you are given to eat His flesh and drink His blood, you believe it, whether you like it or not.  Because He says so. 

            This text, John 6, has been an endless source of contention in the Church, really since Jesus said it.  Is it about the Lord’s Supper?  Is it not about the Lord’s Supper?  Pick your team.  Well, of course it’s about the Lord’s Supper.  John preached this text and wrote it down for the congregation of believers gathered around the altar to eat Jesus’ body under the bread and drink His blood under the wine for their forgiveness and life.  It doesn’t take a whole lot of imagination to figure out what Jesus is talking about.  But it’s not only about the Lord’s Supper.  As we discussed last week, according to our Confessions (FC SD VII), there are two ways of eating Jesus’ flesh.  The first is by faith when we hear the Gospel in all its forms, and the second is orally, with the mouth, when we receive the Holy Supper.  So it’s not an either/or, it’s a both/and.  And when our Lord says you have no life in you if you don’t eat His flesh and drink His blood, no, that doesn’t mean we should commune infants on the day they are baptized.  He doesn’t exclude infants or catechumens who don’t commune from eternal life.  They receive Him by faith in their Baptism and as they hear and learn His Word.  We Lutherans are really good at talking about the real presence of Jesus in the Supper, but we aren’t very good at talking about His real presence in the Word and in the water of Holy Baptism.  Jesus is really in the font when you are baptized, the flesh and blood Jesus, in the water because His Word is in the water, washing you clean and forgiving your sins, giving you new life by virtue of His death and resurrection.  And it is really Jesus speaking to you in His Word, in Holy Scripture and Absolution and preaching.  That is why the Word is so powerful.  It does what it says, because it’s not mere sounds out there in the air and vibrating off the walls, but the speech of Jesus Himself, the Word of God made flesh.  And we don’t mean He’s here in these gifts just in some sort of spiritual, non-literal way.  We mean the Man, who is God, the very Son of the Father, Jesus Christ is present in all His fullness.  Flesh and blood Jesus is here.

            And since that is the case, it really shouldn’t surprise us that it is true of the Supper.  We know Jesus is bodily present in the Supper, His flesh under the bread, His blood under the wine, actually not from this text, but from the Words of Institution.  That is where we get our doctrine.  There Jesus clearly says of the bread, “This is my body,” and of the wine, “This is my blood” (Matt. 26:26-28; Mark 14:22-24; Luke 22:19-20; 1 Cor. 11:24-25).  He’s not being cute.  He gives no indication that He is speaking figuratively.  Surely we can agree that Jesus knows what He is saying and He knows how to speak clearly.  And why does He give it, this flesh and blood?  “For you” (Lk. 22:19), and “for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matt. 26:28).  And this goes very nicely with what Jesus says in our text this morning from John 6: “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life” (v. 54), for as Dr. Luther reminds us in the Small Catechism, “where there is forgiveness of sins, there is also life and salvation.”^[1] The Words of Jesus are what make the Sacrament so powerful so that it forgives sins and gives life and salvation, because the Words make Jesus Himself present, flesh and blood, orally received, in your mouth, down your throat, because that is what He promises. 

            And you receive Him orally, by the way, whether you believe it or not.  It’s just that if you receive His body and blood without believing it, you receive it to your harm, as St. Paul teaches us, “Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of profaning the body and blood of the Lord… For anyone who eats and drinks without discerning the body eats and drinks judgment on himself” (1 Cor. 11:27, 29).  This is why we practice closed Communion, out of love for our brothers and sisters who have not been fully catechized concerning the Supper, or have a different theology of the Supper.  Because there are serious consequences for eating and drinking without discerning the body.  Again, St. Paul: “That is why many of you are weak and ill, and some have died” (v. 30).  I know you don’t like it, and I know it doesn’t sound nice, but you have understand that the practice of closed Communion is from the Bible and it is done out of love.  And it never, ever means that we don’t want someone at the altar with us, nor is it to say the person isn’t a Christian and saved (they may even be a better Christian than I am, which isn’t saying much).  It is simply to say that there is a process by which they can join us for the Supper, and that process is catechesis, teaching, confession of faith, and pastoral care.  And we say this not just to guests, but even to our own children.  You have to wait until you are catechized, taught.  If the Supper were just bread and wine, it wouldn’t matter.  Who cares who receives it?!  But because it really is Jesus’ true body and blood, and because of what the Spirit teaches us in the words of St. Paul, this is powerful stuff.  We don’t get to play around with it.  It can be deadly.  That’s not just me saying it.  It’s Jesus, and St. Paul.  If you have issues, you’ll have to take it up with them.   

            But for those who believe what Jesus says of the Supper, it is a meal that imparts forgiveness and life and every grace and blessing, because it imparts Jesus Himself.  There are two sides to this coin.  There are the Words of Jesus, which put Jesus, flesh and blood, in, with, and under the bread and wine.  And then there is the faith that receives these benefits.  Dr. Luther reminds us just how bodily eating and drinking can do such great things: “Certainly not just eating and drinking do these things, but the words written here: ‘Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins.’  These words, along with the bodily eating and drinking, are the main thing in the Sacrament.  Whoever believes these words has exactly what they say: ‘forgiveness of sins.’” 

            So there you have it, a real, flesh and blood Jesus for real, flesh and blood sinners.  Which is to say, for you.  It is a real, flesh and blood death.  “And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (John 6:51).  It is the flesh of God that hangs upon the cross.  It is the blood of God that pours out of His head, His hands, His feet, His side, and every pit of flesh ripped off by Roman scourge.  It is flesh and blood that is crucified, dead, and buried.  And it is a real, flesh and blood resurrection.  Touch, see, my hands and my side.  It is I (Cf. Luke 24:39; John 21:27).  Or better, I AM.  Our God must be a flesh and blood God to die the flesh and blood death of flesh and blood sinners.  And He must rise from the dead flesh and blood for this very reason, to raise you flesh and blood on the Last Day.  And that is the very Promise of our text.  Beloved, Jesus says to you this morning: Eat my flesh.  Drink my blood.  In this way I forgive you all your sins and give you eternal life.  And I will raise you up on the Last Day.  For real.  In the flesh.  Don’t be offended.  Don’t leave.  These are the Words of eternal life.  Alleluia.  Come and eat.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.         

 

 

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[1] Catechism quotes from Luther’s Small Catechism (St. Louis: Concordia, 1986).

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost

Twelfth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 14B)

August 11, 2024

Text: John 6:35-51

            Jesus is the Bread of Life (John 6:35).  He is the Living Bread that came down from heaven, that, if anyone eat of this Bread, he shall live forever (v. 51).  Now, there is more than one way to feast on the Bread of Life.  Our Confessions are very helpful here (and I’m quoting, now, from the Solid Declaration of the Formula of Concord, Article VII, and this is worth quoting at some length): “There is a twofold eating of Christ’s flesh.  One is spiritual…  This spiritual eating is nothing other than faith.  It means to hear God’s Word (in which Christ, true God and man, is presented to us, together with all benefits that He has purchased by His flesh given into death for us, and by His blood shed for us, namely, God’s grace, the forgiveness of sins, righteousness, and eternal life).  It means to receive it with faith and keep it for ourselves.  It means that in all troubles and temptations we firmly rely—with sure confidence and trust—and abide in this consolation: we have a gracious God and eternal salvation because of the Lord Jesus Christ.

            “The other eating of Christ’s body is oral or sacramental, when Christ’s true, essential body and blood are orally received and partaken of in the Holy Supper by all who eat and drink the consecrated bread and wine in the Supper.  This is done by the believing as a certain pledge and assurance that their sins are surely forgiven them and that Christ dwells in them and is at work in them.  This supper is received by the unbelieving for their judgment and condemnation” (FC SD VII:61-63).[1]  Thus far the Formula of Concord.   In other words, you eat the Bread of Life by faith in all the Means of Grace.  You eat the Bread of Life orally in the Supper whether you believe or not; if you believe, to your eternal benefit and life, if you do not believe, to your judgment and spiritual and bodily harm.  We’ll address this second eating more thoroughly next week in our continued mediation on John 6.

            For today, spiritual eating by faith.  But what is faith?  Have you ever asked that question?  Perhaps we’re too quick to take for granted that we know what we’re talking about.  As a result, we may find ourselves captive to some misconceptions.  So, first of all, what faith is not: Faith is not sight.  Not in the ordinary sense, in any case.  That is clear from our Holy Gospel.  So says the Lord Jesus: “But I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe” (John 6:36; ESV).  We sometimes wish we could just see Jesus.  Then we’d have no problem believing, we think.  Like Thomas.  “Just let me poke around in the wounds a bit.”  But the Jews in our text saw Him, and what did they say?  “Is not this Jesus, the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know?  How does he now say, ‘I have come down from heaven?’” (v. 42).  So sight can, as often as not, be a hindrance to faith, more than a help, and assuredly sight doesn’t equal faith. 

            Nor does historical knowledge.  That is, believing that Jesus existed, and that He died on the cross.  Even believing that He died for sins.  Even believing that He rose again.  Those are all, of course, things we should believe.  But such knowledge is not yet faith, for, as St. James reminds us, the demons also believe these things, and shudder (James 2:19). 

            In our day (as with probably every other day), we must also say that faith is not a general confidence that everything will turn out well in the end.  Or, that we have what it takes to make it through, to muscle our way through the challenges of life.  Or, that other people are basically good.  Or, that we ourselves are basically good.  We should not believe in our own heart, our own instincts, our own inclinations.  Etc., etc.  You know, of course, because you’ve been well-catechized, that faith directed toward any other person or thing than the one true God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, is idolatry.  Repent of that.  You’ve seen the posters, though.  Hopefully you don’t have any hanging in your house.  “Believe!”  In what?, the question is begged.  Or, in whom.  The object of faith must never be ambiguous.  If the object of faith in not clearly the one true God, Satan will happily substitute an idol.

            Okay, that’s what faith is not.  What is faith, then?  Faith is trust in the one true God for salvation, and every good, through Jesus Christ alone.  Apart from your worthiness.  Apart from your works.  In fact, in spite of your unworthiness and evil works.  By His worthiness.  By His works.  By His sin-atoning death and life-bestowing resurrection.  We don’t see it with our eyes.  In fact, the writer to the Hebrews says, in his great chapter on faith, “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1).  Faith, really, is its own kind of sight.  It is spiritual sight, the ability to see what cannot be seen by the naked and fallen eye.  Thus Jesus, in our Gospel, speaks of the one who “looks on the Son and believes in him” (John 6:40).  That’s faith.  It is looking upon the Son, expecting help and salvation from Him, and from Him alone. 

            And it’s not simply a matter that we know these things recorded by the Gospels happened in the past.  It is knowing that these things, written for our learning, are our present reality.  That they happened for us, for you, and they are being bestowed upon you at this very moment in the Means of Grace, the preaching of God’s Word, and His holy Sacraments.  All that the Lord Jesus accomplished for you in His life, death, and resurrection, He gives to you, here and now, by His real, bodily presence with you, in Word and Sacrament.  Faith receives what He is here doing. 

            In fact, in addition to simply understanding faith as trust, two things may be most helpful in defining faith.  The first is, faith is the receiving hands into which God places His gifts.  Now, that necessarily means that faith is not your work for God.  Lutherans love to do that.  “There is one thing I get to do, and that is believe!”  No, no.  Faith is not your work.  It’s not something you came up with yourself.  It’s not a decision you made, or a gift you’ve given God.  Faith is God’s gift to you.  Just like your hands.  You didn’t decide to have hands.  You didn’t come up with hands by some movement deep down in your heart.  You were given hands, by God.  You were born with them.  So that you can receive other gifts from God.  So it is with faith.  You were given faith, by God.  Not from birth, but from your New Birth from above, by water and the Word, by the Holy Spirit, in Baptism.  So Jesus says in our Gospel, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him” (John 6:44).  The Father draws a person to Christ in Baptism and by the preaching of His Word.  That is the giving of faith.  So, faith… the hands that receive forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation, and every other gift besides.

            The second is this: It’s helpful to just equate faith with Christ Himself.  Otherwise, you’ll be tempted to have faith in faith, as so many Christians, including many Lutherans, do.  No, if you have faith, you have Christ.  And it is Christ alone who saves you.  To say that you are saved by faith alone, is to say that you are saved by Christ alone.  Many Lutherans get this wrong.  When asked, “how do you know you’re saved,” too many Lutherans answer, “because I believe in Jesus.”  Close, beloved, but no cigar.  That answer directs faith back in on itself.  The devil loves that, because then you start to ask devastating questions, like, “do I believe enough?  Do I believe exactly right?  I think I believe, but do I really?”  The minute you direct your faith back to yourself, or anything within you, you’re sunk.  The answer to the question, “how do you know you are saved,” is “Christ!”  That’s it.  Christ died for me.  Christ is risen and lives for me.  Christ covers all my sins with His blood and death.  God forgives me for Christ’s sake.  I’ve been bathed in Jesus and clothed with Him in Baptism.  He speaks His Spirit and life into me by His Word.  He puts His very flesh and blood, crucified and risen, into me in the Supper.  How do I know I’m saved?  Christ!  Only Christ!  That’s all I know…  Christ!  Christ for me.  And see, all those answers are, by definition, faith.

            Faith feasting on Jesus, the Bread of Life.  His flesh given for the life of the world.  That’s pretty scandalous.  And, as we’ll see, it only gets more scandalous from here on out, when Jesus talks about eating the flesh and drinking the blood of the Son of Man.  From the beginning, from the Lord’s own mouth, the Lord’s Supper has been the dividing line in Christian theology.  More on that next week.  In the meantime, rest in what the Lord says to you here: “I am the living bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (v. 51).  To rest in that is faith.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                           

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[1] McCain, pp. 572-73.

White/Ney Wedding

 

The Holy Marriage of Isaac White and Shaynah Ney

August 10, 2024

Paradise Ridge, Moscow, Idaho

Text: Eph. 5:22-33

            “Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her” (Eph. 5:25; ESV).  A Christian husband is to die for the sake of his wife.  This business of “Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord” (v. 22) gets all the press, and it’s true enough, and we’ll talk about that in a minute.  But the really scandalous thing in this text is the admonition to you, this evening, Isaac.  Give yourself up.  Completely.  Sacrifice yourself.  Die to yourself.  Die physically, if necessary, if that’s what it takes to protect Poppet, provide for Poppet, lead Poppet in the way of Christ, along with any children God may give you as a result of your union.  It’s a happy day for you.  I don’t want to take away from that.  But that’s the long and the short of it tonight.  Get over yourself.  Get ready to die.  That’s what you’re promising here in your vows. 

            And then, yeah, back to this politically incorrect bit, “Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord.”  “Wow, Paul.  Patriarchal much?  Get with the program, man!”  No, it doesn’t mean what your 21^st Century American ears think it means.  This has nothing to do with the battle of the sexes.  It’s not about women being inferior, or some such nonsense.  It’s not about who’s the boss.  No.  No.  The Christian wife is to submit to her Christian husband’s divine call to love her, and give himself up for her, as the embodied icon of Christ for her.  She is to receive his self-giving, his self-sacrifice, to protect her, to provide for her, to lead her in the way of Christ, along with any children God may give as a result of the marital union.  That’s your divine call, Poppet.  Again, happy day, but this is what it comes down to.  Get over your own self-sufficiency.  Get ready to receive Isaac’s self-giving sacrifice, and order your life in that.  That’s what you are promising here in your vows. 

            And it is all this beautiful picture of the Lord Jesus Christ and His holy Bride, the Church.  That is what we’re given to be as Christian husbands and wives.  The living icon of Christ and the Church.  Christ, the Bridegroom, loving His Bride, the Church, unto the shedding of His own blood, unto His death for her on the cross.  The Church, receiving that sacrifice, submitting now in love and thanksgiving to the One who has given His all for her, His life, His very self, the Crucified, the Risen and Living One.  Receiving His protection.  Receiving His provision.  Following in the way that He leads.  Bathed in His righteousness.  Wrapped up in Him, thus clothed in radiant splendor, without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing, holy, and without blemish.

            What does that look like, concretely, in your marriage?  Isaac, at the very least, it means sacrificing your own preferences, your own safety, pleasure, and comfort for the sake of Poppet.  It means putting her first.  Good old-fashioned chivalry may be a fine place to start.  Open the door for her.  Offer her a chair.  Give her your jacket.  You know the drill.  It means making sure there is food on the table, and a roof over her head.  It also means taking the bullet for her, literally, if it comes to it.  That is one of the reasons you’re joining the military.  You hear a strange noise in the middle of the night, you don’t send her down to check it out.  You go.  If someone needs to defend your home, that’s you.  You do it.  And above all, you lead your wife and family to Christ.  You take them to Church.  You lead the charge in worship.  You don’t let them miss.  You lead them in prayer.  You lead them in devotions.  You teach them the Scriptures.  It isn’t easy.  It’s a sacrifice.  But that is how you serve as the living picture of Christ to your wife and family, and to the world.

            Poppet, at the very least this means supporting Isaac and building him up in his God-given role.  It means trusting him, receiving his sacrifice with grace and humility, and using his gifts to you wisely.  Sometimes it means encouraging him to remember his role.  It means providing a place for him, a home beside you, and in your arms.  It means providing a place for the nurture of a family in the fear and admonition of the Lord.  Follow Isaac in the way of Christ.  If he leads the charge to Church, you’re right there with him.  Pray with him, and for him.  Hear the Word of the Lord with him.  You, also, teach your children the Scriptures.  What I’m describing is not the world’s idea of a powerful woman.  What I’m describing is a better way, and a womanhood more powerful than anything the world could ever imagine.  You’re the living picture of Lady Church to your husband and family, and to the world.

            Both of you, this means forgiving each other constantly, covering up one another’s weaknesses and faults, bearing with one another in patience and longsuffering.  It means caring for one another, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health; sticking it out together, struggling always to cleave to each other in love and fidelity.  Never letting go.  Just as Christ will never let go of His Church.  Just as the Church clings to her Jesus for dear life.  You are the picture of that.   

            What a tremendous privilege!  None of us does it all that well.  That is why we need the Lord’s cleansing and mercy.  We have it, thank God.  And that is why you can confidently make  your vows today, and take upon yourselves this role, this divine calling.  Christ gave Himself up for you.  Now you are giving yourselves up for and to one another.  And what God has joined together, let no one put asunder.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.