Fourth Sunday in Lent

 Video of Service

Fourth Sunday in Lent (A)

March 15, 2026

Text: John 9:1-41

            “Some of the Pharisees… said to him, ‘Are we also blind?’  Jesus said to them, ‘If you were blind, you would have no guilt; but now that you say, “We see,” your guilt remains.’” (John 9:40-41; ESV).

            I’ve always been struck by the irony of this truth.  If you know you are blind, you see clearly.  If you think you can see, you are in utter darkness.  It reminds me of something C. S. Lewis said in Mere Christianity, about the Great Sin (pride): “If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step.  The first step is to realize that one is proud…  If you think you are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed.”[1]

            If you think you are not blind, it means you are very blind indeed.  That is the lesson the Pharisees had to learn.  And us, too.  It’s striking, isn’t it?  And it bugs me.  Because, how do I know whether, at any particular moment, I’m blind, or I’m seeing?  If I think I’m seeing, I’m blind.  If I know I’m blind, I can see.  But if I think I know that I’m blind, and therefore see, I’m really blind, am I not?  Now, I realize this gets silly rather fast.  But it's good that I’m bugged about this.  And you should be, too.  Because here’s the point: As long as my eyes are on me (curved in on the self), whether thinking about how relatively righteous I am as compared to others (the Pharisees), or despairing that I can ever be righteous… as long as my eyes are on me, I am totally blind.  Ah, but what happens when the Lord Jesus lifts my gaze from off of myself, and onto Him?  Yes.  Now I see.  My eyes have been refashioned.  My blindness is healed in His light.  And so, I see that He is my righteousness.  He is my salvation, my health, my life, my all.  Now, that reminds me of a quote often attributed to Martin Luther.  I don’t think he actually said it… at least not in these words (I can’t find the citation, anyway), but it makes for a good internet meme, and it is beautiful, nonetheless: “When I look at myself, I don't see how I can be saved.  When I look at Christ, I don't see how I can be lost.”

            What does Jesus do for us in our Holy Gospel?  That, by the way, is a clue for how to read the Bible profitably every time.  Always be on the lookout, always be asking, what is Jesus doing for me in this text?  Well, He does one kind of thing for me in His Law, holding before me His righteous Commandments, His holy will, like a mirror, showing me what to do and not to do, and how far I fall short of that, and so how hopeless is my condition.  And He does another kind of thing for me in His Gospel (Gospel, not as in the Gospel of John, or Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but in the narrow sense, Gospel as opposed to Law), where He shows me what He does to rescue me from death and hell, pay my debt, forgive my sins, credit me with His own righteousness, and give me health, life, wholeness, and every blessing besides. 

            What is the Law in this text?  You are blind.  And you don’t even know it.  Not unless Jesus opens your eyes to it.  That is what He does for the blind man.  The man is physically blind, but in this way, he is a picture of the spiritual condition of every one of us…  As a side note to the Law of this text, the disciples are blind to the fact that, when a person is physically blind, that isn't because they committed some horrendous sin, or their parents committed some horrendous sin, and now God is punishing them for it.  As it happens, quite the contrary in this case.  And look how blind the disciples are to their own pride when they ask this question (“Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” [John 9:2]).  The implication is, “We weren’t born blind, so we haven’t sinned as bad as this guy must have!”  Lord, have mercy!...  But the Pharisees think that, too.  And we are tempted to think it, and often do think it, even if not out loud.  About our own suffering, or that of others.  Must be because of some sin.  And so, what does Jesus do for the Pharisees, and for us, by His Law preaching?  He kills that self-righteous, judgmental attitude in us.  He kills our pride.  If you think this man is physically blind, because he is a sinner, but you have your physical sight intact, because you are more righteous than he… or more to the point, if you think that this man must be spiritually blind, on account of his sins, but you can see just fine, as evidenced by your righteous life… it is clear that you can’t see a thing.  Utter darkness.  You are utterly blind.  That is a jarring surprise to Pharisees and good Christian folk alike, who are ever eager to remove specks from the eyes of their neighbors, but have no clue about the beam protruding from their own pupil.  That is a description of every last one of us.  And Jesus graciously kills that here in this text.  Let Him.  Thank Him for that.  And repent.  The Pharisees don’t repent.  They hang on to their blind self-righteousness all the way to death and hell.  Let that not be you.  Lose yourself in the Word of Jesus.  Die to yourself.  That you may find yourself in Christ, and live. 

            What does Jesus do for us, though, in the Gospel of this text?  What He does for the blind man, physically and spiritually, He also does for us…, first spiritually, already now (born spiritually blind… original sin… now baptized into Christ, created anew, eyes opened)… and then physically, and perfectly, and completely on the Day of Resurrection.  So, what does He do? 

            First of all, let it not be lost on you that, as the Light of the world, He dawns on the man.  He approaches the man in his blindness and need.  And what do we have, but this very strange thing where Jesus spits on the ground, making mud with His saliva, and smearing it on the man’s eyes.  In fact, the text says, He anoints the man’s eyes.  He Christens them.  Two things about that.  First, see how our Lord uses means to do His gracious work.  That which proceeds from His mouth, His saliva, which calls to mind His Word.  And then also earthly elements, the mud, which calls to mind His use of water, bread, wine, parents, pastors, and other Christians… the means He uses for His gracious work on us.  And secondly, what is this dirt work, applied to the eyes, but a re-creation of what sin has deformed?  He is redoing Adam, here.  Just as the healing and restoration He performs on us is really His work of New Creation.

            Then, He sends the man to a pool named Siloam.  There is a play on words, here.  He sends the man to Siloam, which means sent.  And there, the man is to wash, and be cleansed, and so see.  And it is a Baptism, isn’t it?  That is where Jesus brings us to rebirth and regeneration.  At the pool.  At the font.  That is where He pours out His enlightening Spirit upon us, so that we see. 

            And then, the catechesis.  Not just Catechism class, but the whole life of the baptized Christian, pictured in the things that happen to this man.  That is, he grows in faith, and in the knowledge of what has happened to him.  At first, he doesn’t even know who Jesus is, really.  A prophet.  Okay.  He just knows the facts of what happened.  The Man, Jesus.  The mud.  The sending.  And behold, he who was blind, now sees.  But then, as he meditates on what happened… particularly as he suffers some really terrible things: The skepticism of the crowds, the questioning and abuse from the Pharisees, and his own parents distancing themselves from his newfound healing and faith (not to mention his expulsion from the synagogue, his home congregation)… he grows to understand, and confess with his own lips, this Man is from God.  That faith and confession is a gift to him.  And that is the gift we receive from Jesus, as we grow in the Word, and in understanding, and in suffering.  We confess Him.  And we endure in our Christian faith.

            And then, in the lowest moment, cast out, rejected… there is Jesus.  With the man.  Speaking to the man.  “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” (v. 35)… “You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking to you” (v. 37).  Yes… “Lord, I believe” (v. 38).  And so, the gift of clear sight.  A firm faith.  A true confession.  A new home with Jesus and the people of God.  And worship… “he worshiped him.”

            What does Jesus do for you in this Holy Gospel of the man born blind?  He gives you to see your own blindness (the Law).  And confess it.  And repent of it.  And He opens your eyes to focus on Him (the Gospel).  His love for you.  His mercy upon you.  His death for you.  His resurrection and life for you.  His continual coming to you in His Words, united to earthly things.  His washing you.  His feeding you.  His re-creating you.  His pouring out His Spirit upon you.  His bringing you before His Father, righteous and pure, healed and whole.  Loved and belonging.  As God’s own child.  If your eyes are anywhere but on Jesus, you are utterly blind.  But here, Jesus lifts your gaze to Himself.  And you see!  It’s a miracle.  That is what He does for you in this text.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.             

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[1] C. S. Lewis: Mere Christianity (New York: Macmillan, 1977) p. 114.

Lenten Midweek III

Video of Service 

Lenten Midweek III

Adventures with Elijah: Elijah Despairs, but the LORD Refreshes

March 11, 2026

Text: 1 Kings 19; Luke 9:28-36

            From the monumental high of victory over the prophets of Baal, to death threats from Jezebel, running for his life into the wilderness, and the descent into despair. 

            Why this sudden faltering of courage?  For one thing, here is an indication that even the mightiest of saints can succumb to fear.  Even after witnessing the great works of God.  Enjoying glimpses of His victory.  Impotent Ahab is one thing.  But Jezebel is out for blood.  Hers is the real seat of ruthlessness in that marriage.  Extermination of prophets is her specialty.  She means to have her revenge on this man of God.

            Add to that, this feeling of futility.  Elijah has given his whole life to the LORD’s work.  He’s preached.  He’s suffered.  He’s put his life on the line.  He’s been faithful.  And for what?  Ahab and Jezebel are still on their throne, and the people are still running off after idols.  They’ve forsaken the Covenant.  Thrown down the LORD’s altars.  Joined in on the prophetic killing spree.  What’s the point of going on?  Enough!  I’ve had enough of it!  I’ve been jealous for the LORD of Hosts, but every man has his breaking point.

            And then, simply, this: “I, even I only, am left” (1 Kings 19:10; ESV).  Elijah believes he is utterly alone.  The last Christian on earth.  (And Elijah is a Christan.  An Old Testament one, looking forward to the Christ who is to come.)  Better to just let me die.  Take me home, LORD.  This world is done for.  Israel, too.  Let them go to hell.  There is nothing I can do about it now.

            So, the prophet sits under his broom tree in the desert.  Exhausted.  Alone.  Afraid.  And in utter despair.

            What does the LORD do for him?  He does not forsake him.  He does not leave him desolate.  What does He do?  He sends His holy angel, to minister to His man.  The angel feeds him, to strengthen him.  Here is a cake baked on hot stones, and a jar of water.  He gives the prophet sleep.  Rest.  It is like the Psalm says: “he gives to his beloved sleep” (Ps. 127:2).  And then the angel comes a second time, again with food and drink, and bids Elijah arise.  And behold, he is strengthened.  Strengthened such that he can go on the strength of that food, forty days and forty nights, to Horeb… that is, Sinai… the mount of God.

            But God isn’t done, and Elijah isn’t out of the woods.  What else does the LORD do for him?  The LORD, Himself, shows up.  “And behold, the word of the Lord came to him,” the text says (1 Kings 19:9).  And who is that?  The Second Person of the Holy Trinity, God the Son.  And He asks him a profound question: “What are you doing here, Elijah?”  It’s not unlike the question He asked Adam in the Garden.  “Where are you?” (Gen. 3:9).  There is more to the question than meets the eye.  The LORD is giving Elijah a self-examination tool.  What are you doing here?  This is not where you belong.  This is not where I’ve sent you, called you to work.  And, as with Adam, the question leads to confession.  Again, “I have been very jealous for the Lord, the God of hosts. For the people of Israel have forsaken your covenant, thrown down your altars, and killed your prophets with the sword, and I, even I only, am left, and they seek my life, to take it away” (v. 10).  What am I doing here?  I’m a failure.  I’m a marked man.  And I’m utterly alone.

            Now, what does Elijah need from God?  Does he need God to show up in a blaze of glory and awesome show of divine might?  We may be tempted to think so.  But the LORD will make clear to the prophet (and to us) that that is precisely what he does not need.  The LORD passes by, and what?  A great and strong wind, tearing the mountains to pieces.  But how does that help Elijah?  It’s about as helpful as an EF-5 tornado ripping through Moscow would be helpful to us.  The LORD was not in the wind.  Then an earthquake.  Was that helpful?  Would it be helpful to you?  No, the LORD was not in the earthquake.  Then, a fire.  We know about those around here.  Is it helpful when the world around us is ablaze?  No, it drives us to further fear and despair.  The LORD was not in the fire.  See, when we are in fear and despair, the last thing we need is the LORD to show up in irresistible power and might.  We think that’s what we need, but that would actually kill us.  No, what do we need?

            What does He do for Elijah?  What is it that actually helps?  A low whisper.  The LORD is in the whisper.  The soothing Voice of the God who loves His servant.  The Gospel.  The LORD is in the Gospel for Elijah.  Mercy.  Promise.  Encouragement.  Help is on the way.  You are not alone.  Two kings and a prophet to anoint, Elijah.  They will accomplish the LORD’s purposes.  In particular, Elisha, Elijah’s successor and son in the faith.  And as for the dismal appearance of things as you see them now?  It’s not how it looks.  I have reserved “seven thousand in Israel, all the knees that have not bowed to Baal, and every mouth that has not kissed him” (v. 18).  Elijah is comforted, and strengthened to go on.

            Now, things didn’t suddenly become easy for him.  That is not the Promise.  Dear Christian, you were never promised an easy life.  Get over that.  But things did become bearable.  How?  Elijah received the LORD’s provision, and trusted in His Promise.  God has His purpose.  He is still in control.  He is working all things for the good.  He has not forsaken you, Elijah.  Here, receive food and drink.  Receive rest.  He hasn’t forsaken His people, Israel, either, His 7,000.  God will bring them through.  By the Promises.  So Elijah is strengthened.  “Keep going.  Keep preaching.  Keep trusting.  In My own time, I will take you home.”  (We’ll get that text next week.)  And the day will come when you will see what this is all about. 

            As it happens, that day will take place on another mountain, in the presence of Moses, Peter, James, and John, when the Word of the LORD has come in the flesh, and is transfigured before them.  On that occasion, the Lord Jesus Himself will discuss His “departure” with Elijah and Moses, as they appear with Him in glory (Luke 9:31).  As I’ve told you many times, the word is actually “exodus.”  They will discuss Jesus’ “exodus” with Him, which is to say, His death for our sins, and the sins of the whole world, and His resurrection, which will turn all our despair into unimaginable joy.  Then Elijah will know that his suffering was never futile, that God is working all of this for His good purpose. 

            And it’s all this type of our Lord Jesus Himself, and His saving work, isn’t it.  Because there is Jesus, enjoying the monumental high of the Transfiguration.  And His disciples, too.  But then what?  Down the mountain, face set toward Jerusalem (Luke 9:51), where the people are plotting against His life and thirsting for His blood.  And they will get it, and He knows it.  What happens in the Garden of Gethsemane, on the night when He is betrayed?  Having just given food and drink to His disciples (Himself… His body and blood), and knowing what He is about to suffer, our Lord Jesus is sorrowful unto death.  He falls on His face and prays, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (Matt. 26:39).  Three times He prays this.  And He is utterly alone, isn’t He?  Where are His disciples, Peter, James, and John?  Asleep.  The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak (v. 41).  Like Elijah… and fulfilling what was inaugurated in Elijah… our Lord suffers. 

            And see, He is taking all of our suffering, loneliness, and despair into Himself, along with our sins (the causes of all this)… Elijah’s, too… to suffer them for us.  He is taking our place.  He is redeeming us.  And an angel comes and ministers to Him, strengthening Him (Luke 22:43), just like in our text.  Strengthening Him for what?  To avoid the cross and suffering?  Go around it?  Skip it?  Just be happy all the time?  No.  To go through it.  To go through the cross and suffering.  To endure the sadness and pain… the hell of it all.  To endure the mockery and injustice, the spitting, the scourging.  To carry the wood (and the weight of this world’s sin) up on the mountain, receive the pounded nails, and be lifted up.  Knowing… believing… trusting nevertheless… the Word and Promise of His heavenly Father: “you will not abandon my soul to Sheol, or let your holy one see corruption” (Ps. 16:10); “when his soul makes an offering for guilt, he shall see his offspring; he shall prolong his days; the will of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.  Out of the anguish of his soul he shall see and be satisfied; by his knowledge shall the righteous one, my servant, make many to be accounted righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities” (Is. 53:10-11).  The Promise is that there is saving purpose in our Lord’s suffering and death.  And the Father will bring Him through.  On the Third Day, He will rise.  So, for the joy set before Him, our dear Lord Jesus endured the cross, despising the shame, and is now seated at the right hand of the throne of God (Heb. 12:2).

            For the same joy… the victory of Jesus and the salvation of the world… God strengthened Elijah to bear up, and carry through.  And what of you?  You know sorrow, too, don’t you?  You know fear and futility, loneliness… maybe even despair.  But your Lord sets this joy before you.  He sends His angel to strengthen you.  You don’t see it.  But we know the angels are continually ministering to us, directing us away from all that is harmful and deadly, and toward the Word and Promises of God that give life.  And there is the food and drink.  And Jesus Himself shows up in it, His true body and blood.  And here is the rest, and the low, soothing whisper.  The Gospel.  Your sins are forgiven.  All of them.  And the Lord’s Israel is not done for.  God still reserves His thousands whose knees have not bowed to Baal, whose lips have not kissed him.  And you are not alone.  Here is your family, your brothers and sisters in Christ.  In the House of your Father.  Immersed in the Spirit.  And there is Jesus.  And the great cloud of witnesses, surrounding this Church… this altar.  Angels and archangels and all the company of heaven.  They join us from the other side, and they are rooting us on.

            And so, we are strengthened.  Not to go around the crosses we ourselves are given to bear.  We are not promised an easy life.  But to go through the cross.  To go through the suffering.  Knowing… believing… trusting nevertheless…God’s promises for us.  Easter is coming.  One day, soon, this will all make sense.  Until then, faith, not sight.  But here is the Supper.  Beloved, God has not forsaken you.  He comes.  He is here.  Doling out the fruits of His exodus for you.  And you can go on the strength of it all your days.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.         

 

Third Sunday in Lent

Video of Service 

Third Sunday in Lent (A)

March 8, 2026

Text: John 4:5-30, 39-42

            It should not surprise us that our Lord meets the Samaritan woman at a well.  Isn’t it just like our God to always be doing His mighty works around water?  The Spirit hovering over the water at Creation.  The flood and Noah’s ark.  Crossing the Red Sea.  Crossing the Jordan.  And the list could go on.  And particularly, at wells.  Needless to say, wells were (and are) very important in the Middle East, a matter of life and death.  Wells are a recurring theme in the lives of the patriarchs.   Hagar and her son, Ishmael, are saved from certain death when God opens her eyes to see a well in the desert (Gen. 21:19).  In the same chapter, Gen. 21, Abraham struggles with Abimelech’s servants over possession of a well.  Isaac, likewise, quarreled with the herdsmen of Gerar over his wells, settling finally in Beersheba, “Seven Wells” (Gen. 26).  And Jacob?  Well... he bequeathed to his children, the very well at which Jesus is sitting in our text.  So, very important.  God does not include so many wells in the Scriptures by accident. 

            But more to the point, the well is where marriages are made.  Right?  Abraham’s servant finds Rebekah for Isaac at a well (Gen. 24).  Jacob meets Rachel (and through her, Leah, also), probably at the very same well (Gen. 29).  Moses meets Jethro’s seven daughters, including his wife-to-be Zipporah, at a well (Ex. 2).  Now, here sits Jesus, and… so far, so good.

            But look at the woman who is coming to draw water.  This is where the script just doesn’t seem to fit.  Really?  Her?  Everyone knows about her.  And the whole town talks.  She’s loose, you know.  Hopping from one bed to another.  She’s had five husbands.  What happened to them?  Seems they used her, but found her wanting, so they dismissed her.  And the current guy?  Not even married.  Tsk, tsk, tsk. 

            That is why she is coming alone, at this strange hour, to draw water from the well.  High noon.  The heat of the day.  No one comes for water at that hour.  They come in the cool of morning or evening.  But not her.  She doesn’t want to see anybody.  She doesn’t want anybody staring at her.  Look… she knows who she is.  She knows what she’s done… what she is doing.  But what else is she supposed to do?  Well… you probably have some answers.  Just like the citizens of her town.  But at this point, how is it helpful?  She’s used goods.  Men use her and lose her.  And now, this guy she’s with…  The only way she can keep food on her table and a roof over her head to is to give him what he wants without the bother of a lifelong commitment.  Go ahead and judge.  She’ll just keep coming to the well at noon.  Day after day.  Thirsting for more, but always running dry.

            This day is like all the others.  Except there is a Man sitting there.  “Ugh.  Not today.”  But, the jar is empty.  Anyway, turns out He’s a Jewish Man, “so there’s no way He’ll speak to me… a woman… of Samaria… and clearly a woman of ill repute.”  Respectable men don’t speak to a woman without her husband or father present.  Jews have no dealings with Samaritans.  And Law-abiding Jews do not sully their cleanness by interacting with a woman like her.

            But He speaks!  “Give me a drink” (John 4:7; ESV).  What is this, some kind of pick-up line?  Well, actually… in a manner of speaking!  Jesus is thirsting, but not just for well-water.  He is thirsting for this woman’s salvation.  He is thirsting, not to take something from her, but to give something to her.  Something she has never had before in her life.  Love.  True love.  And a Gift, with no strings attached to any selfish ends of the Giver.  A Gift of eternal meaning and significance.  A relationship… not sexual… not carnal… but an intimate relationship with a Man who will not treat her as an object for His own pleasure… who does not see her as a thing to be used… who knows her shame, but lifts her out of it… who restores her humanity… who speaks to her with grace… and truth, yes, but in gentleness, and with respect… a Man who will be faithful to her.  In life and in death.  Forever. 

            He thirsts to give her Himself.  And with Himself, the Father, and the Holy Spirit, salvation, and the very Kingdom.  “If you knew the gift of God, and who it is that is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him, and he would have given you living water” (v. 10).  It is a water that, if anyone drinks from it, he “will never be thirsty forever” (v. 14).  “Sir, give me this water, so that I will not be thirsty or have to come here to draw water” (v. 15).  “Oh, dear woman.  Dear woman.  You are still thinking about H2O.  But I am speaking of the Water of the Spirit and faith.  The Water that flows from the very throne of God, becoming an impassible River that cleanses and heals whatever it touches (Ez. 47; Rev. 22; Ps. 46:4).  Ask Me, and I will give you that Water.”

            The Water flows from Jesus Himself.  Jesus is the Well!  “‘If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink.  Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, “Out of his heart”… one might even say, “out of His side!... “will flow rivers of living water.”’  Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive” (John 7:37-39).  We heard in our Old Testament reading (Ex. 17:1-7) how the people thirsted (and grumbled, and quarreled with Moses and God), and God told Moses to strike the rock at Horeb, so that water flowed out for the people to drink.  What does St. Paul say about that rock?  Do you remember?  They “all drank the same spiritual drink.  For they drank from the spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ” (1 Cor. 10:4).  And we know how this is all fulfilled.  On a Friday afternoon, outside Jerusalem, there hung the Son of God with the weight of the world’s sin on His very human, fleshly shoulders.  He cried out: “I thirst” (John 19:28).  But not for the sour wine they held up to Him on hyssop and sponge.  Oh, He was physically parched, I’m sure.  But for what is He thirsting?  The salvation of the world.  The woman.  You.  Me.  All people.

            And then, He said, “It is finished,” and so it was, and He bowed His head, and gave up… and gave forth… His Spirit (v. 30).  Oh, and you know what happens next.  A soldier takes his spear, and… just to make sure Jesus is really dead (and He is!)… runs it through His side.  Right into His very heart.  And out comes… what?  Blood and water (v. 34).  Strike the Rock and the water flows.  Drink this Water and you will never be thirsty forever.  This Water will never run dry.  This Water cleanses.  This Water heals.  Jesus is the Rock.  Jesus is the Well.  And this Water… is for you.

            The woman believes.  “This Man… He must be… He is… the Christ!”  “I who speak to you am he,” Jesus says (John 4:26).  Or better, “I AM… the One speaking to you.”  God in our human flesh.  She believes, and so she comes into the Covenant.  And it’s a marriage, isn’t it?  Right here at the well. 

            Now, we should say (and this is very important, lest we come to some very silly and damaging conclusions about 6^th Commandment issues and other transgressions of God’s Law): Jesus doesn’t leave the woman in her sin.  He doesn’t say, “That’s okay.  Keep doing what you’re doing.  Keep living with this guy and fornicating with him.”  If you think that, you’ve completely misunderstood what Jesus is doing.  To leave her in her sin… and living together outside of marriage is sin... would be to leave her in death.  Jesus has come to give her life!  And that’s what He does.  You can bet things changed that day between the woman and the man waiting back home who was decidedly not her husband.  Maybe they married.  Or maybe that was the end of it.  Nevertheless, the point is, now she has Jesus.  And so, she has life.  Not because of some reformation of her life.  But because of Jesus, who met her at the well.  Jesus, who gave Himself for her and to her.  Jesus, who slaked her thirst for life and for love. 

            And then, what happens?  The disciples return, and they are confused, but they also believe, and so drink, and enter into the marriage feast at the well.  And the woman runs off and gets a whole bunch of other Samaritans to come and meet Jesus, and hear Him for themselves, and so drink, and believe, and come into the marriage feast at the well.  They no longer judge the woman, because Jesus has taken away her shame, and because they, too, are sinners… get this, though… received graciously by Christ Jesus, who forgives them, and washes away all their sins, and takes away their own shame.  How can they judge, when they’ve been received with such mercy? 

            And what about you?  You meet Jesus at the well, too, don’t you?  We call it a font.  Baptized into Christ.  You drink the living Water.  The Spirit flows from Jesus into you.  You believe.  He forgives your sins and takes away your shame.  And it is a marriage.  The marriage feast of the Lamb in His Kingdom which has no end.  Jesus gives Himself for His holy Bride, the Church, you.  He loves you.  And in so giving Himself, He washes you.  Cleanses you.  And presents you to Himself in splendor, without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing.  Holy, and without blemish.  Praise God. 

            No surprise that Jesus meets this woman at the well.  That’s where He meets us, too.  And gives us Himself.  And with Himself, all things.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                        

Lenten Midweek II

 Video of Service

Lenten Midweek II

Adventures with Elijah: Elijah and the Prophets of Baal

March 4, 2026

Text: 1 Kings 18:20-40; Luke 3:1-22

            Your idols cannot answer your prayers.  They can’t even hear you.  Nor can they do anything for you.  Except lie to you.  Disappoint you.  Make a fool of you.  Kill you.  Damn you.  Because an idol, itself, is nothing.  It has no power.  St. Paul discusses this in 1 Corinthians 8: “we know that ‘an idol has no real existence,’ and that ‘there is no God but one’” (v. 4; ESV).  But there is a power behind the idol, and that is what harms you.  The power is demonic.  St. Paul, again in 1 Corinthians, this time in Chapter 10, tells us that “what pagans sacrifice they offer to demons and not to God” (v. 20).  “I do not want you to be participants with demons,” he says.  Good advice. 

            So, we should examine our lives, and identify our idols.  We all have them.  And then we should deny them.  Forsake them.  Topple them.  Root them out.  Repent.

            See how ridiculous they are as you observe the prophets of Baal in our text.  It’s a pretty simple test, isn’t it?  Set up your sacrifices, O idolatrous priests, and the Prophet of the LORD will set up his.  Then you call upon the name of your god, and Elijah will call upon the Name of the LORD.  And the God who answers with fire is the one true God.  What happens?  The prophets of Baal call and cry to their god.  But nobody answers.  No fire.  No voice from heaven.  No response.  So, they limp around, as you’ve undoubtedly seen pagans do.  (I know this is politically incorrect, but think of the Native American rain dance, as just one example.)  They cut themselves, so that the blood gushes out.  Blood is very common in idolatrous ceremonies.  And this points to the power behind the idols.  The demons are thirsty for blood.  Why?  It is a perverted image of the blood of our one true Sacrifice, the Lord Jesus Christ.  They are mocking Him.  They are mocking our salvation.  Anyway, on and on they go, all day long, these prophets of Baal, and the text says, “No one answered; no one paid attention” (1 Kings 18:29).

            Meanwhile, what is Elijah doing?  Mocking the idol.  “Cry louder.  Maybe he can’t hear you.”  I’m reminded of the profound words once uttered by the Incredible Hulk when he smashed the false god, Loki: “Puny god.”  Indeed, puny god who can’t hear your prayers.  “Hey, maybe he’s musing, lost in thought.  That’s why he can’t hear you.  Or, maybe he's going to the bathroom.  Give him a minute.  Or, perhaps he's out of town.  Or sleeping.  After all, gods like him get tired after a while.”  Elijah is giving us a clue as to one way we can put our idols in their place.  Mock them for what they aren’t.  They aren’t gods.  In fact, they are nothing.  So they can’t help you.  In fact, they can’t do anything.

            Psalm 115 is helpful here: “Their idols are silver and gold, the work of human hands.  They have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see.  They have ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell.  They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk; and they do not make a sound in their throat” (vv. 4-7).  Now, the devastating warning: “Those who make them become like them”… impotent nothings… “so do all who trust in them” (v. 8).

            We become what we worship.  Dear Christian, remember that God made man in His own Image.  And though we lost that Image in sin, in Holy Baptism, God restores it in you.  We become what we worship.  But when you worship idols, what happens?  You exchange the blessed Image for an image of nothing and no one.  And the demons rejoice, because that is what they want for you.  For you to become nothing and no one, and be consigned to an eternity with them in hell. 

            Beloved, don’t become like them.  Identify your idols, and root them out.  “But,” you say, “I don’t worship images of silver and gold.  My idols are less obvious.  So how do I recognize them for what they are?”  You know that an idol is anything you fear, love, or trust more than the Lord your God.  So, ask yourself this question: What is it, in my life, that I’d have a hard time giving up for the sake of Jesus?  In fact, what things do I already refuse to give up for the sake of Jesus?  Where am I breaking His Commandments, and presuming on His mercy, because actually repenting of those things, and giving them up, is more painful than the thought of losing my Lord Jesus?  Whatever those things are, they are what you fear, love, and trust more than the Lord your God.  They are your idols.

            We all, undoubtedly, share many of the same idols.  But it is also true that our idols are particular to our circumstances, vocations, and station in life.  So, when John the Baptist is addressing this with those coming to him for Baptism, he gets specific with people.  “What then shall we do?” (Luke 3:10), they ask.  Well… do you have stuff your neighbor needs?  Don’t hold on to the stuff like it’s your god.  Share it with those who don’t have it.  You tax collectors, stop stealing from people by taking more than you're authorized to take.  You soldiers, stop bullying and extorting the people into giving you money.  Be content with your wages.  Think about yourself in your own vocations and situation.  What would John the Baptist say to you?  Take those idols down.  Confess them.  Drown them, along with your Old Adam, in the blest baptismal waters.  And then what? 

            Put all your faith in God.  Your full fear, love, and trust.  Surrender it all to Him.  Your very self to Him.  Psalm 115, again: “O Israel, trust in the LORD!  He is their help and their shield” (v. 9).  “O Christian, trust in the LORD!  He is YOUR help and YOUR shield.”  And in that trust, call upon Him.

            By the time of the evening sacrifice, Elijah has had enough.  He repairs the altar he built for the LORD (apparently destroyed by the Baal worshipers).  And then… and we love this!... he has some bystanders fill four water jars with water and pour them out on the sacrifice and the wood.  How many times?  Three.  And it is a Baptism if there ever was one.  The water soaks everything… runs around the altar and fills up the trench.  And then a beautiful prayer, in the hearing of all, confessing the one true God, the God of Israel, calling upon Him to answer, and by His answer, to turn the hearts of the people. 

            And what happens?  “Then the fire of the LORD fell and consumed the burnt offering and the wood and the stones and the dust, and licked up the water that was in the trench” (1 Kings 18:38).  And, of course, it is, in the first place, a type of our all-sufficient Sacrifice of Atonement, the Lord Jesus Himself, when the fire of God’s wrath over our sins fell upon Him on the cross, and consumed Him in the death and damnation we deserve.  He took it, for us, in our place.  And then, it is also a type of our Baptism into the death of Christ.  The water.  Three times.  Soaking everything.  The water and the Sacrifice go together.  And we’re in it.  Baptized into it.

            And then, the judgment and death of the idolaters.  It is really a judgment on Baal, but those who worship him become like him.  And so, the slaughter of the prophets.  See in this, not only a warning of the great Judgment coming upon unbelievers on the Last Day, but also what happens to the Old Idolater in you, and all your idols, when you are baptized into Christ.  The Idolater in you dies with Christ, the Sacrifice, in the baptismal flood, along with all sins and idolatrous desires, even as you are raised up a New Creation in Jesus Christ, who is risen from the dead.  That is, even this terrible act of violence in our text is Good News for you.  Gospel.  Because you are freed from the grip of the demons.  You are no longer their captive.  You belong to Jesus Christ.  And Yah is your God.  As in, “Elijah” (My God is Yah!).  And He does answer your prayers.  He pays attention.  He receives the Sacrifice (the Lord Jesus).  And you are saved.

            And what else do you know?  Those who worship Him become like Him.  That is to say, Image restored.  The Image of Christ.  Baptized into Christ, now heaven is open to you.  The Spirit descends on you and remains.  And the Voice of the Father declares to you: You, also, are My beloved son in My Son, Jesus.  And so, with you, I am well-pleased. 

            Don’t worship idols, beloved.  They’re just dumb objects in the service of dumb demons.  Fear, love, and trust in God above all things.  For He loves you.  He will never leave you or forsake you.  And in Him you have life forevermore.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.              

                     

 

Second Sunday in Lent

Video of Service 

Second Sunday in Lent (A)

March 1, 2026

Text: John 3:1-17

            “How can these things be?” (John 3:9; ESV).  We should take Nicodemus and his question seriously.  True, as a teacher of Israel, Nicodemus should have known.  But he did not know.  And neither would we, apart from the Lord’s gracious revelation in His Word.  Why?  Because we are flesh born of flesh.  That is, fallen flesh born of fallen flesh.  And so, as Paul says, we are unable to accept the things of the Spirit of God, and, in fact, we consider them folly, foolishness, unless and until the Spirit brings us to new spiritual birth.  Because the things of the Spirit are spiritually discerned (1 Cor. 2:14), and we are not spiritual (as in, receptive to the things of the Spirit) unless the Spirit undertakes a radical demolition and renovation of our mind, our heart, our soul… our very being; what we call, conversion.  That is, to be born again.  Born from above.

            “How can these things be?”  Nicodemus is confused.  A Pharisee.  A ruler of the Jews.  Nevertheless, a man of the flesh.  He thinks one’s fleshly birth counts for a lot, and is ultimately determinative of his standing before God.  He is, after all, a son of Abraham.  He is a righteous Jew.  A member of the ruling council, the Sanhedrin, he is a meticulous keeper of the Law.  He does the right things.  Associates with the right people… and not with the wrong people.  And he knows Jesus is a teacher come from God.  The wisdom and miracles make that obvious.  But he can’t figure Him out.  We know why.  The things of the Spirit are only spiritually discerned.  But it bothers Nicodemus.  Like a rock in the shoe.  So, he comes for a visit.  Under cloak of darkness, in the middle of the night.  Why?  For fear.  Can’t let anyone see me checking this Guy out.  And, because that is his spiritual condition.  Nicodemus is in the dark.

            But he’s asking the right questions… fundamental questions.  And Jesus is answering.  In fact, before Nicodemus can even ask a question, Jesus obliterates all his theological assumptions with His opening statement: “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God” (John 3:3).  Now, that one’s a head-scratcher, isn’t it?  “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother’s womb and be born?” (v. 4).  I am of the opinion that a man of Nicodemus’ intellectual capacity is not asking the Lord how a grown man can climb back into his mother’s belly to pass through the birth canal a second time.  His hyper-literalism is, rather, a theological response to Jesus.  As if he is saying, “Look, we know, you’re either born into the covenant people, or you’re not.  There is no second birth.  We’re not worried about the Gentiles coming into the covenant.  And we, who are born into that covenant by our natural birth from Mom, just have to stay in it by being circumcised and strictly obeying the Law.”  Sounds like a good Pharisee, doesn’t it?  Also sounds like our own Old Adam. 

            “No,” says Jesus.  “No.  You, Nicodemus, in spite of all of that, cannot enter the Kingdom of God, unless you are born again.  Yes, even you.  Born from above.  Born from God.  Born from the Spirit.  Your genetic pedigree and all your Law-keeping are not good enough.  You are still flesh.  Fallen flesh.  And, therefore, for you to enter into the Kingdom, there must be a fundamental change.  In you.” 

            Our Lord could say the same thing to us.  “You, O fallen man… even you, O Churchgoer, O Missouri Synod Lutheran… you, O defender of family values, O cultural warrior, O scrupulous moral exemplar… you, in spite of all of that, must be born again, born from above.  From God.  From the Spirit.”  That is to say, you must have the new life that comes only in and through this Jesus Christ. 

            And you do.  It is all God’s gracious action.  He gives you this life.  He brings you to this birth.  Graciously.  You don’t earn it.  You don’t merit it.  You don’t decide for it.  You can’t reason your way into it.  You do not do it.  Just as you do not bring yourself to natural birth, or earn being born, or decide to be born.  This birth is a gift of the Holy Spirit.

            “How can these things be?”  You will only believe this if you are a spiritual being, one already born anew, from above.  Otherwise, this will sound like utter foolishness.  But, here’s how… water and the Word.  Water and the Spirit (v. 5).  Holy Baptism.  That is the new birth.  No, Nicodemus, it’s not climbing back into Mom so you can pass through the birth canal a second time.  No, Old Adamic Pharisees, it’s not when you finally get your act together and meticulously keep the Law.  No, dear Christian, it’s not when you make your decision for Jesus and finally, by your own fallen volition, let Him in to your heart.  It happens at the font.  In many cases, you are carried there by your parents and sponsors, and that really shows that this is God’s act of grace.  You had nothing to do with it.  You just laid there in someone’s arms, probably screaming and spitting up and other things we’d expect of sinners.  You were a passive receiver, in other words.  But that is actually true even if you came to Baptism as an adult.  You may have come forward on your own two legs, but that is because the Spirit had already carried you to faith by His Word.

            And that is the answer, too.  The Word.  The Spirit blows in by the preaching of the Word.  Jesus breathes His Spirit into you when you read and hear His holy Word.  And that Spirit captivates you… possesses you.  That is what Jesus is talking about when He says that the wind blows where it wills (v. 8).  The word for wind is the same as the word for Spirit.  The Spirit blows where He wills, and just like the wind, you hear His sound… the sound of the Word, and it is that Word by which the Spirit creates faith in you, and sustains faith in you (which is why you want to be always in the Word, hearing the Word, reading the Word, studying the Word, meditating on the Word, because that is what keeps you in the faith, keeps you in Christ).  You can’t see the wind, but when you hear the sound of it, you know it is windy.  You can’t see the Spirit, but when you hear the Word, you know He is present.  I would be remiss if I didn’t make reference to Article V of our Augsburg Confession in this connection: “So that we may obtain this faith, the ministry of teaching the Gospel and administering the Sacraments was instituted.  Through the Word and Sacraments, as through instruments, the Holy Spirit is given [John 20:22]. He works faith, when and where it pleases God [John 3:8], in those who hear the good news that God justifies those who believe that they are received into grace for Christ’s sake. This happens not through our own merits, but for Christ’s sake.”[1]

            That we may obtain this faith… God gives the Word and Sacraments… by which the Holy Spirit works faith, where and when He pleases, in those who hear… so that all who believe are justified.  That is our Holy Gospel, isn’t it?  That is everyone’s favorite verse, 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” (NKJV).  (The word “begotten” is important to get in there, by the way.  God has many sons.  We are sons of God in Christ.  But Christ is the only begotten Son of God.  So that is my quibble with the ESV for the day.)  But that is how these things can be.  God gave His only-begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him may have eternal life, or in other words, the Kingdom.  And one comes to believe in Him by this spiritual birth from above, by the Holy Spirit, Water and the Word, Baptism, Preaching.  It is the Good News that God does not condemn the world.  God does not condemn you.  He sent His Son to reconcile the world to Himself.  To reconcile you to Himself.  You have now heard the Good News.  Believe it, and you have it.

            “How can these things be?” (ESV).  Nicodemus was confused.  But something happened that night with Jesus.  He heard the preaching.  The Seed may have taken some time to germinate.  But next we encounter him, in John Chapter 7, he is defending Jesus’ rights to a fair trial before the Council (v. 50).  And near the end of the Gospel, there he is with Joseph of Arimathea, taking our Lord’s body down from the cross, and preparing Him for burial (John 19:39).  At great personal risk, we might add.  In other words, he came to love the Lord.  And so, we may safely assume, he came to believe in Him.  Thus, Nicodemus lives.  Eternally.  And so us.  “How can these things be?”  We know.  Because we’ve been born from above.  Baptized into Christ.  His Word ringing in our ears, a sure indication that the Spirit is present and blowing through.  And there is His body and blood for us to eat and to drink, delivering all the benefits of His death and resurrection for us.  Sins forgiven.  Justified, righteous.  We haven’t eared it.  We didn’t decide for it.  We just believe it, thanks be to God, and so receive it.  We believe God, and it is counted to us as righteousness (Rom. 4:3).  That is how these things can be.  And that is how they are.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.    

 

 

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[1] From "Article V. The Ministry" in The Augsburg Confession, Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions, Pocket Edition. © 2005, 2006 Concordia Publishing House.

Source: https://bookofconcord.cph.org/en/augsburg-confession/chief_articles/article_v/