Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany

Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany (B)

January 28, 2024

Text: Mark 1:21-28

            What better demonstration of our Lord’s divine authority than the casting out of demons?  With a mere Word: “Be silent, and come out of him!” (Mark 1:25; ESV), the deed is done, and the demon must obey.  It is a sign.  It signifies who Jesus is: This Man is God.  And it signifies what Jesus has come to do: Rescue us from the devil, plunder his kingdom, destroy all his works, and finally consign him, along with all demons, and death itself, to eternal punishment.

            The people in the synagogue are astonished at Jesus’ teaching, because He teaches with authority, and not as their scribes.  Whereas their scribes must cite other authorities in support of their teaching, Jesus speaks as God Himself.  Because that it who He is.  And when Jesus speaks with this divine authority, it brings out the demons.  Like turning on the light in a rat-infested kitchen.  Jesus’ Word exposes the vermin.  It exposes the source of all the damage and filth that surrounds us and infects us.  Jesus speaks, “And immediately there was in their synagogue a man with an unclean spirit” (v. 23).  The light comes on, and the demon is exposed.  The text doesn’t say he came in from the outside.  The point is, the man was there, a regular worshiping member of the Synagogue congregation, and he had a hidden problem, now exposed by the light of Jesus’ Word… he was possessed by a demon.

            This is why we meet so many demons in the Gospels.  Jesus is on the scene.  And wherever He goes, what is hidden comes to light.  It is not that the demons weren’t there before.  It is not that they aren’t there now.  In fact, we know them by the damage and filth they leave in their wake.  While there is plenty of blame to go around for all that ails us, including the unbelieving world and our own sinful flesh, wherever there is sin, wherever there is brokenness, wherever there is pain, or guilt, or shame, you can be sure the demons have been doing their dirty work. 

            The devil is real.  The demons are real, and we should know that.  Fallen angels, consumed by their own hatred and lust for revenge.  They want to get back at God by grabbing hold of us.  What do they do?  What are their tactics?  In extreme cases, there is what we call possession, wherein the demon can take control of a person’s body.  That was the case with the man in our text.  Or there is oppression, or obsession, slightly less extreme categories, but just as damaging.  These things do happen, and if you suspect such a case, you should talk to your pastor immediately.

            But, for the most part, their work is more subtle.  Such that, while we should know better, we live our lives as though the devil and demons do not exist.  We hide all the evidence, even from ourselves.  We patch over the damage and sweep the detritus under the rug.  Now, in some sense, there is something almost right about this.  We shouldn’t air our dirty laundry for all the world to see.  And, as C. S. Lewis says, we shouldn’t give the devil too much attention.  Remember, he is a narcissist, and he craves our attention.  But he also knows that his best work is done under the radar, so as to lower our defenses, to give us a false sense of security.  In the preface to his Screwtape Letters, Lewis writes, “There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils.  One is to disbelieve in their existence.  The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them.  They themselves are equally pleased by both errors.”[1]

            So, how does their work usually manifest among us?  They tempt us, to be sure.  Now, they are not omniscient, but they are very observant.  They know our weaknesses.  They read our behavior and body language.  They read our external circumstances.  They know when we are vulnerable, and likely to fall.  They lie.  They know how to make sin attractive.  They lead us to doubt God’s Word.  They lead us to doubt God.  And then, when we fall, they accuse.  They lead us by the hand into guilt and shame, not so that we repent, but so that we despair.  They are always out to injure, break, kill, and destroy.  Remember, demons cannot create anything new, and they never fix anything that is broken.  They can only bend, pervert, crack, and tear asunder.  False doctrine?  That’s them.  It sounds like it should be right, but there is something bent about it.  Sexual sins?  Lust?  Pornography?  Adultery?  That’s them.  Make something right and holy, namely, intimacy and procreation, into something dirty.  Envy, covetousness, miserliness, greed?  That’s them.  Bent reactions to God’s providence for ourselves and for our neighbors.  And so on, and so forth.  The demons make you think they are on your side.  In reality, they are aiming at your death: physical, spiritual, and eternal. 

            And so, Christ has come!  Jesus is Lord, even of the demons.  They know it, and shudder (James 2:19).  “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are—the Holy One of God” (Mark 1:24).  Incidentally, what the demon is probably trying to do in naming the Lord (in addition to just plain frustrating His ministry), is to get control of Him.  It was, and is, a common belief in paganism, that you can gain control of a deity by naming him or her.  That is why Jesus silences the evil spirit right away, to put that demonic doctrine to rest.  But it is true, Jesus has come to destroy the kingdom and power of the devil and his demons.  The Kingdom of God has arrived in the Person of Jesus to disarm and defeat Satan.  So He goes about healing the sick, cleansing the impure, raising the dead, and forgiving sins.  That is to say, He goes about undoing the demonic damage, and cleaning up the filth. 

            That is what Jesus does for us, isn’t it?  He doesn’t leave us in the devil’s power.  That is the great lie the demons want you to believe… That God is far away in His heaven, and could care less about you.  No.  No.  It’s a lie.  Don’t believe it.  Jesus comes.  He comes to you, in the flesh, just as He came to those who were stricken and afflicted in His earthly ministry.  And He does for you what He did for them.  He gives you eternal healing.  He cleanses you.  He forgives you.  He gives you new life now, in Him.  And resurrection of the body is coming.  Every Baptism, therefore, is an exorcism.  It grabs you out of the devil’s claws, and claims you for God’s own.  It casts out the evil spirits, that the Holy Spirit may take possession of you.  And now, the whole Christian life is a continual return to that exorcism.  It is a filling of your mind and body and soul with God, with Christ, with all that is holy, that there be no room for evil spirits.  It is a continual cleansing, continual forgiveness, continual sanctification, the unbreakable presence of the Lord Jesus Christ, for you and in you.  Every sermon, every Holy Absolution, every Lord’s Supper… Every time you open your ears to the Scriptures, and your eyes to read them… every encounter with God’s Word, every application of the Gospel to sinners… it chases the demons away.  And, of course, biblical prayer… praying God’s Word, and on the basis of God’s Word.  Out loud, by the way, so the demons can hear.  As Luther says in the Large Catechism, “Certainly you will not release a stronger incense of other repellant against the devil than to be engaged by God’s commandments and words, and speak, sing, or think them [Colossians 3:16].”[2]

            For it is Jesus speaking with divine authority.  And this is, after all, the Seed of the woman who crushes the serpent’s head (Gen. 3:15).  He does it by His cross and death.  The devil cannot have you.  Jesus has made the sacrifice of atonement for your sins.  He has purchased you for God with His own blood.  He has undertaken a mission of rescue.  He goes down into death, and back out again, leading a host of captives in His train (Ps. 68:18).  He is risen.  He lives.  Exalted to the right hand of the Father.  Ruling all things.  The victory is His.  He wins.  The devil loses.  And the Day is coming soon when the devil will face a reckoning.  On that Day, he, along with all his works, and all his ways, all his demons, death, and hell, will suffer eternal destruction in the Lake of Fire.  And for us, all that is wrong will be right again.  All our ills will be healed.  What is broken will be mended.  What is dead, raised to life.  Cleansed, purified, healthy, and whole, we will be with God forever.  And He will wipe away every tear from our eyes (Rev. 7:17; 21:4). 

            In the meantime, what do you do with the damage and yuckiness the demons leave around you and all over you?  What do you do with the fallenness and brokenness of everything and everyone, including yourself?  You come to the place where Jesus is present… present in mercy, speaking His authoritative Word.  He silences the demons and drives them out.  And He cleans you up and restores you to life.  “O risen Christ, God’s living Word, To us, we pray, draw near.  Come, speak the truth that cleanses sin With love that conquers fear” (LSB 541:3).  Yes.  Yes, He answers.  And it is so.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                   

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[1] (New York: Mentor, 1988) p. xix.

[2] LC Longer Preface: 10 (McCain). 

Third Sunday after the Epiphany

Third Sunday after the Epiphany (B)

January 21, 2024

Text: Mark 1:14-20

            There is the call to discipleship, and then there is the call to be an Apostle.  In the case of our text, the call is extended at one and the same time.  These particular Disciples will be appointed Apostles.  But the two are not the same thing.  All Apostles are Disciples.  But not all Disciples are Apostles.  What is the difference?

            A Disciple is one who submits to, and follows in, the discipline of another… in this case, that of Jesus Christ.  “Follow me,” Jesus says (Mark 1:17; ESV).  All of us here this afternoon, gathered in this place, have heard, and are hearing, the call to be a Disciple of Jesus.  One becomes such a Disciple by Holy Baptism, and by hearing the Lord’s Word with faith.  “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel” (v. 15).  One continues in such discipleship by living in that Baptism; in, and according to, that Word; in the bodily presence of Jesus; in faith, hope, and love; in prayer; in worship; in the Communion of Saints; in self-sacrifice; in obedience; and in faithful suffering under the cross.  If you are a Disciple of Jesus Christ, that means that He is your Master, your Lord.  You are the student, He the Teacher.  You are the sinner who has been saved, He the Savior of sinners.

            An Apostle, though, while himself necessarily a Disciple of Jesus, is also something else.  He is an eyewitness of the Lord’s earthly ministry from His Baptism by St. John in the Jordan, to His Ascension into heaven (Acts 1:21-22); an eyewitness of the Lord’s crucifixion and death for our sins, and of His bodily resurrection from the dead.  And even of all those who meet this criteria, an Apostle must be chosen and called directly by the Lord Jesus, as were the Twelve on the mountain (Luke 6:12-16), Matthias in the Upper Room by lot (Acts 1:26), and Paul on the Damascus Road (Acts 9:1-19; Gal. 1:1).  Not one of us here this afternoon are Apostles.  We never could be for the simple fact that we were not yet born when our Lord undertook His earthly ministry, so we are not, by definition, eyewitnesses.  But also, such is not our call.  We are given to be Disciples, and that is enough.  The Lord has chosen us and called us through the apostolic ministry of His Church to follow Him.  Let the Apostles be Apostles, and let us simply follow Jesus.

            In any case, we learn a great deal about both discipleship AND apostleship in our Holy Gospel.  Both are initiated by the call of Jesus.  That is to say, we certainly cannot choose to be an Apostle.  But neither can we choose to be a Disciple.  We don’t become a Christian by making our personal decision for Jesus.  If we are to be His Disciple, He must call us, and that call is the means by which He takes possession of us by His Holy Spirit, brings us into the faith, sets us on the path that follows in His train.  The call is His enlivening Word: “All is fulfilled in Me!  The Kingdom of God has arrived in My Flesh!  This is extraordinarily Good News!  Repent, therefore, and believe it!”  It is the Word joined to the water: “I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  It is the Word declared to you in His stead by the Lord’s called and ordained servants: “I forgive you all your sins.”  It is the Word inscripurated.  It is the Word preached.  It is the Word confessed by your fellow Christians.  How do you know you are called to be a Disciple of Jesus Christ?  He speaks to you… He calls you… His Word.

            And when He speaks His Word to you, and calls you to follow Him, nothing else matters in comparison.  Jesus comes upon Simon and Andrew, running their business, plying their trade, casting their net into the sea.  “Follow me,” He says to them, and immediately, and unquestioningly, they do just that.  They leave everything.  They leave their business.  They leave their livelihood, the boat, the net, the fish behind.  Not because those things aren’t good, right, and even salutary (it is wonderful to be a fisherman, and even more so to be a Christian fisherman, and we’re all for Christians running businesses), but because, when Jesus calls, everything else takes a backseat.  Same with James and John.  They leave their father, and their boat, and their hired servants, and follow Jesus.  The call is all-consuming.  Most of us are not called to leave all we have and our whole way of life when Jesus calls us to faith.  But what if we were?  Many are.  Think of those Christians who live in places where Christianity is disfavored, or even illegal.  What if we were called to abandon it all?  It’s worth it.  “For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it” (Matt. 16:25).

            You do have to give up some things to follow Jesus.  Chief among them, following your own will over against God’s.  Following your heart is incompatible with Christian discipleship.  Being true to yourself is incompatible with Christian discipleship.  Living your truth is incompatible with Christian discipleship.  So also, conforming to the words and ways and prevailing opinions of the world is incompatible with Christian discipleship.  This can be particularly painful, because it may mean rejection on the part of family and friends who don’t understand how you could be so bigoted and hateful that you follow the dictates of an ancient book rather than accepting and affirming all the things you’re supposed to accept and affirm in everyone. 

            And, then again, it may mean your job.  Just ask Barronelle Stutzman, the florist in Washington, who was happy to serve anyone and everyone, but on account of her Christian faith, could not, in good conscience, use her artistic talents to celebrate a same-sex “wedding.”  For years, she was persecuted by the state, sued by the ACLU and the Washington State Attorney General, finally paying out a settlement and retiring from her business just to get out from under the unrelenting oppression.  Then there is Jack Phillips and Masterpiece Cakeshop.  He’s still fighting, and we should pray for him.  Even after a Supreme Court victory, the State of Colorado will not rest until they put him out of business.  We can think of many other examples in our own country.  Further from home, but closer to our ecclesiastical home, Lutheran Bishop Juhana Pohjola and Finnish Member of Parliament Päivi Räsänen (also a Lutheran), have been prosecuted in their country, in Pohjola’s case for publishing a book written by Räsänen, who is also a medical doctor, about the biblical view of sexuality, and in Räsänen’s case, for writing the book in the first place, and for tweeting a picture of a Bible verse that forbids homosexuality.  Since 2019 they’ve been in court, charged with “war crimes and crimes against humanity” for their speech.  They’ve been exonerated twice, but in Finland, prosecutors can appeal acquittals, so now their case goes to Finland’s Supreme Court, and may go all the way to the European Court of Human Rights, where the consequences will affect religious rights in many nations.  At stake for Pohjola and Räsänen are not just their livelihoods, but their life savings, their freedom (if convicted, they could face prison time), not to mention freedom of speech and religion.  I don’t know how they do it.  It don’t know how they persevere.  Except to say, I do know… It is the work of the Holy Spirit.  The Word of Jesus Christ sustains them. 

            And it is worth it.  Because Christ is their life.  Christ is our life.  The Apostles lost their lives in witness to Jesus Christ.  But still, they live.  Countless Christians have lost their homes, their livelihoods, their freedom, their lives, for Christ, and still, they live.  Do not fear those who kill the body, but cannot kill the soul (Matt. 10:28).  “I count everything as loss,” Paul says, “because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ” (Phil. 3:8).  Jesus says, “Truly, I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time… and in the age to come eternal life” (Mark 10:29-30).  Why is it worth it?  Because you’re going to lose all of that anyway, in death, if not before.  It all comes with an expiration date.  And anyway, none of it fulfills you ultimately.  Christ fulfills you.  Christ is eternal.  Christ makes you eternal.  And whatever else is fulfilling, in any measure, is only really fulfilling in Christ.

            Of course, as we said, in the case of Simon and Andrew, James and John, the call was not only to be a Disciple, but an Apostle.  You and I are called to discipleship by the preaching of the Apostolic Word, which is the Word of Jesus Christ, summed up by our Lord in our Holy Gospel: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe in the gospel.”  Now, Jesus no longer extends calls into Apostleship.  We know from Peter’s speech in Acts 1 that there had to be Twelve Apostles (one for each Tribe of Israel), so when Judas defected and died by his own hand, Matthias was appointed to take his place.  Paul is an outlier, number 13, sent to the Gentiles.  But the number is complete.  We don’t need to replace the Apostles now, as they die, most of them by martyrdom.  Why?  Because they still live.  And they still preach.  In the Holy Scriptures.  And in this way, they are still fishermen… fishers of men! 

            And now our Lord has given the Church the Office of the Holy Ministry.  Pastors are necessarily Disciples of Jesus, but they are also something else.  Called by the Lord indirectly through His Church, ordained into Office, to preach the Word and administer the Sacraments.  Two of us in this assembly are called to that task.  Most of you are not.  There is a certain leaving required here, too.  Leaving home.  Leaving the familiar.  Leaving what is comfortable and secure.  I haven't personally sacrificed all that much, but I have many brothers who have left successful businesses and significant salaries to be preachers at small Churches and paid a pittance.  And many of them have suffered greatly for the sake of Jesus and His Gospel.  Praise God.  It is worth it.  Because, in preaching, the Gospel net is cast, and men are caught and hauled into the Boat of the Holy Christian Church.  They come to faith.  They become Disciples.  They follow Jesus.  All the way to eternal life and salvation.  Pray for pastors, beloved.  Pray for seminarians and support them.  Pray that God would call more men to leave everything and become pastors.  Christian men, consider this yourselves.  Maybe this could be you.  Maybe not, that’s fine.  It’s worth thinking about.

            But whoever you are, rejoice.  The Lord has called you to be His Disciple!  Follow Him.  There is pain, and there are crosses, ahead.  Perhaps even persecution.  But only for a little while.  The Lord will more than compensate you for whatever you leave behind.  And then there is resurrection and everlasting life.  Because Jesus died for you.  He is risen and lives for you.  And where He goes, there you… His Disciple… follow.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.                

                

 

Second Sunday after the Epiphany

Second Sunday after the Epiphany (B)

January 14, 2024

Text: John 1:43-51

            When the Lord calls a person, He calls that person by name.  The Lord called you by name in Holy Baptism.  When you were baptized, it was not some other person the Lord addressed.  The pastor asked you, “How are you named?”  And you, or your parents and sponsors on your behalf, responded with your proper name.  And when the pastor took you up in his arms, or bid you hold your head over the font, as God’s spokesman, he addressed you by that proper name, pouring the water upon you and saying, “I baptized you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  Your name now united to God’s Name, the Christian Family Name, given you as a gift, and written upon you, because you are precious to God, and holy.  Born anew in the blest baptismal waters, God’s own child, I gladly say it.

            He still calls you by name.  And He knows you.  As your loving heavenly Father, He knows His child.  He knows your sins, your faults, and weaknesses.  He covers them with the blood and righteousness of His Son, Jesus.  He forgives your sins for Jesus’ sake.  He knows your sorrows and your wounds.  He consoles you by His Spirit in the Gospel.  He feeds you.  He clothes you.  He cares for you and provides for all your needs of body and soul.  He knows what you need even better than you do.  He never forsakes you, for you belong to Him, in His House, and at His Table.  You are His own.

            The boy, Samuel, in our Old Testament reading (1 Sam. 3:1-20), did not yet know the LORD.  That is to say, the Word of the LORD had not yet been revealed to him as a prophet (v. 7).  But the LORD knew him.  And when the LORD called him, He called him by name: “Samuel!  Samuel!” (v. 10; ESV).  Three times the LORD called to him (vv. 4, 6, 8), before Eli the priest realized what was happening.  And now, by Eli’s preaching and instruction, the thrice-called Samuel was given ears to hear.  “Samuel!  Samuel!” the LORD called again.  And Samuel responded, “Speak, for your servant hears” (v. 10).  What do we learn from this?  The LORD must call us before we can hear Him.  The LORD must speak His Word if we are to know Him. 

            “How do you know me?” Nathanael asks Jesus (John 1:48).  It is a reasonable question.  Now, Nathanael… you may also know him as Bartholomew… knew the God of Israel by His Word, by the Torah, by faith.  But he did not yet know that the LORD was standing before him in the flesh.  But Jesus knew Nathanael.  “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom there is no deceit!” (v. 47).  See, “Before Philip called you, when you were under the fig tree, I saw you” (v. 48).  Now, it’s not as though the fig tree was over there, ten yards from Jesus, and Jesus happened to notice Nathanael sitting there against the trunk in the moments before He also saw Philip walk up and call Nathanael to join them.  No, the point is, this is a miracle.  Jesus was nowhere near the vicinity when Philip bid Nathanael “Come and see” (v. 46).  Philip brought Nathanael along, in spite of Nathanael’s objections… “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”  Nathanael, though assuredly awaiting the consolation of Israel, was not one to be taken in by messianic delusions.  But now, not only did Jesus rightly identify Nathanael as an Israelite’s Israelite, guileless, faithful, but He also identified where Nathanael was, and what he was doing, when Philip called him, thus revealing… manifesting (Epiphany!)… His divine omniscience.  Jesus knew Nathanael.  And He called him through Philip’s faithful confession: “We have found him of whom Moses in the Law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus of Nazareth” (v. 46).  And in this way, Nathanael was given to know the Lord Jesus, and to confess: “Rabbi, you are the Son of God!  You are the King of Israel!” (v. 49).

            No one comes to know the LORD… no one comes to faith in Christ… apart from His call.  To Philip, He simply says, “Follow me” (v. 43).  Just prior to our text, hearing John’s preaching of Jesus (“Behold, the Lamb of God!” [v. 36]), two of John’s disciples asked Jesus where he was staying.  “Come and you will see,” Jesus responds (v. 39).  Note how Philip simply echoes these words of Jesus when he witnesses to Nathanael.  In any case, the rest is history.  The two disciples do come and see.  And one of these is Andrew, who finds his own brother Simon, and brings him to Jesus.  And once again, the Lord knows him, and names him.  He simply looks at him, before any introductions are made, it would seem, and says, “So you are Simon the Son of John?  You shall be called Cephas,” which, as we know, means “Peter” (v. 42). 

            Again, what do we learn from all of this?  Before we know the Lord, the Lord knows us.  When he calls us, He calls us by name.  And it is His call that gives us ears to hear Him, to know Him, to confess Him, to follow Him.  So also, we learn that often His call is mediated through the faithful confession of those who already know Him.  “Come and see,” they say.  Andrew brings Simon Peter.  Philip brings Nathanael.  They bring them into the presence of Jesus.  And it is Jesus, the Lord, who speaks, imparting His Spirit, through His Word, bringing new disciples to faith in Him. 

            How is that for an evangelism program?  We worry an awful lot about witnessing.  It makes us nervous.  What will we say?  And we’re pretty good in the Church about taking that anxiety out on others, accusing everyone else of “not loving the lost,” because obviously “you all are not evangelizing,” because “if you were, the Church would be growing.”  See, “it’s all your fault!”  (I’ve just summarized 90% of the professional conferences I’ve attended over the years… and they wonder why I don’t like attending!)  It’s absurd.  We make it too complicated.  First of all, the apostolic method is pretty straightforward: “Come and see.”  “Hey, if you ever want to come to Church with me, I’d love to bring you.  I’ll introduce you to the pastor and the other people, and show you how to use the hymnal.  I’ll talk you through it, and be with you the whole time.”  You just bring the person into the presence of Jesus.  Or, at least, you offer.  And the rest is up to Jesus, who speaks His Word.  And the Spirit, who calls.  And the Father who draws (John 6:44).  You can’t bring anybody to faith, anymore than you can bring yourself to faith.  What are the words we all remember so well from Catechism?  “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to Him; but the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel.”[1]

            So, you bring them for an encounter with Jesus and His Word.  And you already do this.  Parents do this when they bring their children to Baptism (where God, who knows the child, calls the child by name, to be His own)… when they bring their children to Church, and Sunday School, and Catechism class.  You do this when you invite family and friends who don’t have a Church to come and see.  You do it for one another when you encourage each other, by your words, and simply by your own faithful example and presence, to come to Church and Bible Study, and be in God’s Word, receiving His gifts in the Sacrament.  That’s all it is.  Enough with the guilting.  Enough with the worrying and fretting.  We are simply given to confess: “Jesus is the Lamb of God, the One about whom Moses and the Prophets wrote, the Son of God, the King of Israel.”  And invite, “Come and see.”  But none of it depends on us.  It’s all up to God.  In the immortal words of Eli the Priest: “It is the LORD.  Let him do what seems good to him” (1 Sam. 3:18).

            The Lord calls, “Follow me!”  That is His call to you, today, and every day, as He who knows you continues to call you by name.  What does it mean to follow Him?  Walk with Him.  Walk in His steps.  Listen to His voice (not the voice in your head or the feeling in your heart.  No, no… Scripture, preaching, the confession of His disciples).  Go the way He goes.  Obedience in life.  Faithfulness under cross and suffering.  Yes, death.  The grave.  The valley of the shadow.  But on through into resurrection and eternal life.  Beloved, heaven is open to you.  And Jesus is the Ladder that connects heaven to earth, upon whom the angels ascend and descend.  To follow Jesus is to live all of life in His saving presence, your whole life and being redeemed by His atoning sacrifice, now enlivened by the life of the risen Lord, one with Him.  It’s all given to you in Baptism, where God first called you by name, and named you with His Name. 

            When my grandmother died (21 years ago, now!), the pastor pointed out to a packed Church building full of Krenzes and others, that every last one of us was there hearing the Gospel, confessing the Creed, singing hymns, and rejoicing through the tears, because Erna née Fuerstenau Krenz was baptized into Christ (well over a century ago, now!), called by name, known intimately by her Lord.  Five boys she and Grandpa raised in the Christian faith, who raised their children in the faith, who raised their children in the faith, and so on, and so forth, all of whom bid others to come and see.  And what was the funeral service, but one big invitation to come and see?  And how many generations before Grandma brought their children to come and see, into the presence of Jesus, so that down the line she would be baptized, and bring her children into the presence of Jesus?  And how many pastors, and how many other faithful Christians, made an impact on someone, who made an impact on her to keep her in the faith?  I’m in the pulpit this afternoon, and you are hearing this sermon, in part because the Lord Jesus called Erna Feurstenau to follow Him.  And here are my children, who never met her, in the pew, in part, because of her and the Lord’s grace to her.  If we could follow all the mystic cords that bind together the Communion of Saints, we would see that we are all here because Jesus said to Philip: “Follow me!”  And Philip said to Nathanael: “Come and see.”  And through them, and through the web of a countless host of others (each one known and named by God), here we are right now.  How many in generations to come will be known and named by God because of you?  The Lord knows us.  The Lord calls us.  He calls us by name to be His own.  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).

The Baptism of Our Lord

The Baptism of Our Lord (B)

January 7, 2024

Text: Mark 1:4-11

            When our Lord Jesus stepped into the waters of the Jordan to be baptized by St. John, it was an act of New Creation.  The Old was coming to an end.  It was passing away.  The New had arrived in the flesh of this Man from Nazareth.  The whole affair is an echo of the Genesis Creation account.  Or, better, it is the fulfillment.

            Where are the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity to be found at Creation?  “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Gen. 1:1; ESV).  Here is God the Father as the Origin and Source of all that is, who out of nothing, ex nihilo, creates (בָּרָ֣א, a Hebrew verb that can only ever have God as its subject) everything that exists, seen and unseen, material and spiritual.  And He does it by the agency of His Word, His λόγος, as John has it in his Gospel (1:1, 14, etc.).  “And God said…” (Gen. 1:3).  He speaks.  He speaks into being.  And His speaking, His Word, is His Son.  “In the beginning was the Word,” John says, “and the Word was with God, and the Word was God… All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made… And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:1, 3, 14).  The Father speaks… the Son.  And by His speaking, the Spirit now acts.  There is the Spirit of God, hovering, brooding, gently moving, even cherishing, this formless and void mass of material God has created, called “the waters” (Gen. 1:3).  The Father, in speaking forth His Son, will by His Spirit give form to the formless, and fill the void.  And that accounts for the rest of Genesis 1. 

            Where are the Three Persons of the Holy Trinity to be found in our Lord’s Baptism?  The Son, the eternal Word, having been sent by the Father into our flesh, for our redemption, manifestly appears in the waters of the Jordan.  Jesus is in the water.  Firmly planted.  The heavens are torn open (σχιζομένους, σχίζω in Greek, from which we get the words schism, or scissors), and the Spirit descends upon Jesus like a dove.  Hovering, brooding, gently moving over the face of the baptismal waters.  And, once again, the Father speaks, the reality of His Son: “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased” (Mark 1:11).

            What is happening?  Creation, which through sin was in the process of devolving once again into the formless and void, would now, in Christ, the Father’s Eternal Word, be rescued from such devolution, redeemed, restored.  And the critical point where the whole action takes place is Holy Baptism.

            When we witness a Christian Baptism, what do we see?  Our eyes, having devolved under the curse, are blind to the grand reality.  We see only water poured upon a squirming and squealing infant, or perhaps the odd and unimpressive adult, and by a rotund and rambling reverend.  But what is actually happening?  What happens to every one of us when God brings us to the font?  There is Jesus Christ, the Son of God made flesh, planted firmly in the water.  Heaven is torn open to us, and the Spirit of God descends to hover, to brood, to gently move the cherished child of God now covered by the waters.  And the Father speaks the reality of His Son upon the baptized: “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.”  It is justification.  And it is regeneration.  It is the drowning of the Old, which now comes to an end in Christ the Crucified.  It is the emerging and arising of the New: New Birth, New Creation, New Man in Christ, who is risen from the dead.  When you, infant or adult, are plunged into the baptismal deluge, it is an act of New Creation.  What happens at Jesus’ Baptism is what happens at our own.

            Now, when our God finished His work of Creation, it is not as though He became bored with it, and left it to spin itself out and devolve until it fell apart.  The devolution of Creation is a result of our sin at the instigation of Satan.  We know that the only answer for that is the saving work of our Lord Jesus Christ.  But note this, and believe it, and cherish it: God is no deist.  In spite of our sin, and even in the throes of the curse, God sustains His Creation, and is intimately involved in its every aspect.  Right down to the minutia.  “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease” (Gen. 8:22).  “The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food in due season.  You open your hand; you satisfy the desires of every living thing” (Ps. 145:15-16).  He sustains Creation in the same way He created it… by His Word.  He speaks.  His Son.  The λόγος.  “For by him,” the Son, says St. Paul, “all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible… And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Col. 1:16, 17).  “He is,” says the writer to the Hebrews, “the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Heb. 1:3).  He does it by His Spirit, the Lord and Giver of Life, who rides in on the wings of His creative breath (which is to say, His Word): “The Spirit of God has made me,” Job says, “and the breath of the Almighty gives me life” (Job 33:4).

            See, what He does cosmically, He does for each one of us, individually, right down to our atoms, and our infinitesimally smallest components: “In him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28).  The Greek poets came up with that, but St. Paul quotes them approvingly.  Every breath, every beat of our heart, the functioning of our bodily systems, and every one of our cells, everything about us, depends upon our Father, who numbers the very hairs of our heads (Matt. 10:30), and His Son who redeemed the very hairs of our heads, and the Spirit who is the breath of life God breathes into us.

            So, too, New Creation.  God doesn’t just bring us to new birth and then leave us to ourselves.  He sustains us in the death and life of Jesus Christ.  The Old is in its death throes as it passes away.  But as you know, it will not go quietly.  We are assaulted on every hand by the Old order of things.  The curse touches us all.  Thorns and thistles.  Pain in labor.  Strife.  Fear.  Death.  Satan tempts and accuses, and we still sin.  Simul iutsus et peccator.  At the same time righteous and a sinner.  That is our situation this side of the veil.  If the peccator is to die, and the iutsus make it out alive, God must do it.  He does it by keeping us in our Baptism. 

            Even as God created the heavens and the earth in the beginning, and to this day we live in His Creation, so He created us anew in the moment of our Baptism, and that is now the ongoing reality of our New life in Christ.  Baptism is not a past event.  It is a present reality that carries us into the future, and into eternity.  It is not that I was baptized.  It is that I am baptized.  I am grounded in it, as firmly planted in the water as is the Lord Jesus Christ.  Only my own unbelief could uproot me.  And so, this now is my baptismal life: My daily death and resurrection in Christ.  The daily death to self in repentance, the daily death of the Old Adam, my sinful flesh, the old sinful nature.  And the daily emerging and arising of the New Man in Christ, the New Creation, Faith.  It is what St. Paul describes in our Epistle: We who have died to sin in Baptism no longer live in it.  For we who have died with Christ now walk in newness of life, and in the hope and expectation of the resurrection of the body in holiness and glory on the Last Day.  So we now consider ourselves dead to sin, and alive to God in Christ Jesus (Rom. 6:1-11).  Baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection, it is as good as done. 

            And what is true for us individually in Christ, is also true cosmically.  The Old is passing away.  The New has come in the Man from Nazareth who steps into the water.  All that is dying and dead is destined for fire and destruction, even as it once perished in the Flood (2 Peter 3:6-7).  Then will the New be raised up.  Even as the Lord Jesus is risen.  Even as He will raise us anew, bodily.  New heavens.  A New earth.  It all begins there in the water, in the Father’s speaking, the Spirit’s brooding, the Son, God-enfleshed, making in Himself all things new.  Including you.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.