Tenth Sunday after Pentecost

Tenth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 12 B)

July 28, 2024

Text: Mark 6:45-56

            Perhaps you received the answer you were hoping for today.  Then again, perhaps you didn’t.  Either way, here is what you did receive, what, in fact, you are receiving… Christ’s Promise: “Take heart;” and then, not just, “it is I,” as our translation has it, but “I AM!”  That is, YHWH, the God of the Old Testament, the one true God, is now present with and for you in the flesh, not as a ghost, a phantasm (φάντασμά in Greek) out to get you, but as a gracious God come to save you, and make His dwelling with you.  And that, in the very midst of the wind and waves that seem to be blocking you from making any headway, and that may, in fact, be threating your life.  Therefore, “Do not be afraid,” He says to you (Mark 6:50; ESV).  He has you.  And if He has you, this Christ Jesus… nothing else really matters in the end.

            In the Bible, the boat is the great picture of the Church.  Swirling in the sea of chaos, the formless void.  Battered and blown about.  Tossed and troubled.  The disciples of Christ often find themselves within an inch of their life, or so it seems, as they sail the sea.  But when the Lord is present, with or in the boat, they need not fear.  We can think of all the great biblical images.  Noah’s ark.  The ship in which the Prophet Jonah, the Christ figure, must be thrown into the Sea and buried in the belly of the fish for three days and three nights, before he is resurrected on the shore.  Think of the sea voyages in Acts, the great storm and shipwreck, in which Paul tells the soldiers and sailors they cannot be saved unless they stay in the ship.  What do all of these images have in common?  There is salvation only the boat.  Outside of the boat, there is certain death.  Because Christ gathers His people in the good ship “Church,” there is salvation only in the Church, where Christ is.  Outside of the Church, there is certain and eternal death. 

            We see what is outside the Church, the formless and void chaos, and that is why we fear.  Why, it even makes Jesus look like a sea demon.  But we can’t trust our eyes.  We have to trust His voice.  He speaks to us in His Word, and all is well.  He gets into the boat, and the winds cease.  As long as Jesus is with us, we will make it to the far shore.  And from the boat, from Jesus, who is in the boat, comes healing and release for the whole world.  The people come running.  They beg Him that they might touch even the fringe of His garment.  And when they do, they are immediately made well.  That is faith, reaching out for Jesus.  And that is to say, they are loaded on board with us, to sail in the ship.  To sail with the disciples.  To sail with Jesus.

            I may be the pastor of this Church, but as a sinner, I have my fears.  I hope you aren’t surprised by that.  I do find some consolation in the company I keep, namely, the disciples, who mistake Jesus for a ghost.  Now, Jesus, in so many places, rightly calls them, “O ye of little faith.”  It is, to be sure, a sin to doubt Jesus.  But if He can do with them what He did with them, at least I know He can do with me whatever He will.  And He forgives me.  And strengthens me.  And grants me His Spirit.  Thank God. 

            I’ll confess to you, though, some of my fears and doubts, because maybe they are similar to your own when it comes to His Divine Majesty’s Ship “Augustana.”  Will we all hang together?  Who is in danger of panic, and jumping overboard?  Who is upset with the captain and officers of the ship?  I don’t really fear a mutiny, to be honest (and perhaps naïve), but conflict is the sea serpent’s tactic in breaking apart the ship.  I do sometimes wonder if we have the provisions to make it from point A to point B, from here to the place our Lord wants us to go.  Money, you know.  And manpower.  And will.  And I worry whether the swirling chaos out there, the temptations, the social pressures, the threatened and real persecutions, just might swallow us alive.

            All of which, really, is to mistake the Lord Jesus for a phantasm.  I know it.  I just don’t know it.  “Lord, I believe.  Help Thou mine unbelief.”  As though Jesus doesn’t actually have all of this under control.  As though the chaos has any power over Him.  As though the wicked serpent stands a chance against the Savior’s heel.  Remember, He is our Jonah.  Hurled into the Sea of Death to be swallowed up by it.  And after three days, vomited forth from the tomb, risen, victorious, and alive forevermore.  He is our Noah, who saves us from the Flood.  Saves us, in fact, through the Flood in the Ark of the Christian Church.  “Baptism, which corresponds to this,” St. Peter says, “now saves you” (1 Peter 3:21).  Do not fear, Jesus says, to all His disciples, and to me, and to you.  Take heart… I AM!

            St. Paul had his own apostolic and pastoral fears.  After cataloging for the Corinthians all the various kinds of trials he had suffered for the Gospel… five times, the forty lashes minus one at the hands of the Jews; three times, beaten with rods; once, stoned pretty much to death; three times, shipwrecked, and a day and a night adrift at sea; the dangers of travel; the threat of persecution; toil; hardship; and sleepless nights… well, the list goes on, but at the very end of it, he has this curious statement: “apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches” (2 Cor. 11:28).  I guess I should be thankful I have only one congregation to be anxious about… though I did have two up until this moment, called to both places, and I hope it’s okay that I share this with you… my heart breaks to have had to tell the people of Zion, “no.”  I told them from the beginning, “If you call me, you’ll be breaking my heart, because I either have to tell you no, I’m not coming to be your pastor; or I have to say goodbye to my beloved Augustana congregation.”  Well, you’ll excuse my lamenting on a day like this, but I really came to love the members of Zion, as well.  And I’m asking you to pray fervently for them, that God would provide them a pastor.  And we know He will.

            Anyway, Paul is just like the other Twelve.  And like me.  And like you.  Anxiety.  Fear.  It’s probably because we don’t know what Jesus is doing.  We don’t know the future.  Of this congregation.  Of our own lives.  As if we were capable of grasping that, anyway.  In reality, it is enough to know, simply, that He IS… “I AM!”  And that He is with us.  And that all that He is doing, whatever it may be, is for our good, and for our salvation, even when it appears otherwise to our fallen eyes.  Paul knew that.  And so, here is where he ends up in our Epistle: God “is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us” (Eph. 3:20).  This is why our fears are so silly.  The problem isn’t God.  The problem is our inability to ask, or even think.  “O ye of little faith.”  But God is faithful, and He still does more abundantly for us that we could begin to imagine.  So, do not be afraid.  We ask that God would strengthen our faith, and give us courage to believe that in His love, He will rescue us from all adversities, and provide for all our needs of body and soul.  He will.  Because He Is.  “I AM!”  The past, the present, and the eternal future, are in His hands.  And so, to our gracious God “be glory in the church”… in Augustana… “and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever.  Amen” (v. 21).  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.            

Higher Things Homily

 

Higher Things Thursday Matins

"Who Am I?" - Portland, Oregon

July 25, 2024

Text: Eph. 5:22-33

            In the Name of Jesus X.  Amen.

            “Wives, submit to your husbands”… the world has already stopped listening.  “Wives, submit to your husbands”… I once, literally, had two husbands high five one another in the pew at the reading of this Epistle.  Well, they were joking…  I think.  I hope. 

            Both reactions miss the point.  This isn’t about the battle of the sexes.  This isn’t about who’s the boss.  And the world, by the way, has no ears to hear this.  And neither would you, unless God had given such ears to you, ears of faith to hear His Word.  Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord (v. 22).  AND, husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the Church and gave Himself up for her (v. 24).  A profound mystery is revealed to us here: This is really about Christ, the Bridegroom, and his holy Bride, the Church.  And Christian marriage is the embodied proclamation of this mystery to the world. 

            You know how it happened in the Garden.  It is not good for the man to be alone.  God put Adam into a deep sleep, and from Adam’s side, God formed the woman, Eve.  And it is God Himself who marched her down the aisle, brought her to Adam, a gift for him, a helpmeet corresponding to him, a wife, a bride.  And so it shall be, from here on out: A man shall leave his father and mother, and be united, cleave, unto his wife.  And the two shall become one flesh.  And it is all a beautiful foreshadowing and depiction of how it is with Christ, our new Adam, and with His Church, our new Eve. 

            God put His Son, Christ, into a deep sleep… the sleep of death.  And from His spear-riven side, by blood and water, in chalice and in font, God formed for Him, a Bride.  From Jesus’ giving of Himself into death on the cross, He brought forth the Church, a people to be His own, His beloved.  You.  Sanctified.  Cleansed from every stain of sin and shame by the water included in God’s Command, and combined with God’s Word.  Presented, now, to the crucified, but risen Bridegroom, radiant, clothed in splendor, holy and without blemish, no spot or wrinkle or any such thing.

            So, the question… who am I?  And who are you?  My whole identity, now, as a Christian man, and as a husband… your whole identity, now, as a Christian man, a Christian woman, regardless of marital status…  your whole identity as it comes to bear on all your ordered relationships, your vocations… comes from that.  The cross.  The font.  Identity is not something we choose, or create for ourselves, but it is received, as God’s good gift.  It is given us in Baptism, where we are incorporated into the identity of Christ, and His Bride, the Church, folded up into that reality, and given to be the embodiment of that reality in the world. 

            And so, yes, Christian wives submit to their husbands, receive their husbands’ self-giving, not because of some inherent inferiority on the part of women, but that they may be the living icon of Holy Church receiving the self-sacrifice of her Bridegroom, Jesus, submitting to Him in faith and love.  And yes, Christian husbands love their wives, even if it means the death of them, that they may be the living icon of Christ’s saving, self-giving love.  It is a proclamation to the world.  Beloved, do not be scandalized.  Rejoice.  Your Bridegroom loves you.  He laid down His life for  you.  He is risen and lives for you.  And now, behold… the Table is set for the Feast.  Already the guests are taking their place.  And the strains of the distant nuptial song steel upon the ear of faith.  Christ Jesus comes to claim His Bride.  Christ Jesus comes to make you His own.  That is why we are gathered here today.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.    

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

Ninth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 11B)

July 21, 2024

Text: Mark 6:30-44

            The council and I agreed that, due to the excessive heat, this sermon should be short, so now we’ll see whether I’m capable of following directions. 

            There are three things in particular in our Holy Gospel, to which I’d like to call your attention.  The first is that, in His compassion for His sheep, Christ, our Good Shepherd, cares for our bodily needs, and provides for them.  That is the basic meaning of this miracle.  When the hour is late, Jesus has the crowds sit down in groups on the green grass, and from five loaves and two fish, which He has blessed and broken, He feeds the whole multitude, about five thousand men, not counting women and children, and there are twelve baskets full left over.  And it is less an extraordinary miracle, as it is a bringing out into the open what God continually does in giving us each day our daily bread.  You know this.  You are alive and here today because God has not failed to provide for you.  Food, drink, clothing, shoes, house, home, etc., etc.  You know how it goes in the Catechism… “and the like.”  Now, you should be a good steward of the things God gives you, and you can get yourself in quite a pickle when you steward foolishly, but the fact is, we can all look back at times in our life when there was too much month at the end of the money, when we shouldn’t have had enough to eat, when we shouldn’t have had anything extra, when things should not have worked out… trying times, adverse circumstances, or even, yes, foolish stewardship.  And God still fed us.  Jesus, our Shepherd, still fed us stupid sheep.  So, that is the first thing.  The Lord provides. 

            The second is like unto it.  In His compassion for His sheep, Christ, our Good Shepherd, cares for our spiritual needs.  When He sees the great crowds, He teaches them many things.  He gives them a sermon.  It is the Service of the Word.  And then, He feeds them by the hands of His Apostles, His called and ordained servants.  And though this particular feeding is not the Sacrament, it sure has the ring of the Service of the Sacrament to it, doesn’t it?  Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, and breaks it.  This is the pattern of the Divine Service.  Word and Sacrament.  Jesus present with His people.  Tending them by the hands of His pastors, His undershepherds.  This is critical for us all to remember at a time like this, when I am contemplating a call.  Jesus will provide for the preaching of His Word and the administration of His Sacraments at Augustana, and at Zion, according to His will, which is good for us, and gracious toward us.  What is true for us as individuals and families, is true for us as a Church in terms of our material and spiritual needs.  The Lord provides. 

            And then, the third.  Let it not be lost on you that this is the fulfillment of the 23^rd Psalm.  Where the LORD, our Shepherd, is present, there is no want.  Jesus literally has the crowd sit down in the green grass: “He makes me lie down in green pastures” (Ps. 23:2; ESV).  He restores their soul and leads them in the paths of righteousness by His teaching.  And He sets an overflowing table before them.  And that is what He does here and now for us.  That is why it’s worth the heat to be here.  In His compassion for us, the Lord Jesus, who died for us, for the forgiveness of our sins, and to make us His own, and who is risen for us, to be our life and salvation, sits us down as a group, restores our souls and leads us by His teaching, and then miraculously feeds us, His true body, His true blood.  The Lord provides. 

            And that’s it.  Don’t get used to it.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.  

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

Eighth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 10B)

July 14, 2024

Text: Mark 6:14-29

            St. John the Baptist was beheaded by the government for preaching traditional marriage.  Let’s not mince words on this.  Herodias was offended by John’s preaching, because he declared it unlawful, ungodly, for Herod to have his brother Philip’s wife while Philip was still alive.  As we all know, hell hath no fury… and Herodias was furious at the scorn and shame brought upon her by John’s preaching.  How dare he make her feel bad about her domestic situation!  How dare he question the sanctity of her love.  How dare he suggest… nay, proclaim… that her marriage to Herod is sinful before God.  And so John finds himself in the dungeon.  Herodias wants him executed, but Herod protects him, if you can call the dungeon protection, because he fears John and knows that he is a righteous and holy man.  Herod even appreciates a good John the Baptist sermon now and then, although he finds John’s message perplexing.  You know how it is when a sermon hits a little too close to home.  The Law of God tears you apart at the seams.  And it hurts.  It is the crucifixion of the old man, the old sinful nature.  That always hurts.  But it must be done, so that your God can raise you up to new life, a new creation in Christ Jesus.  It hurts, but you love it, because you know it’s true, and you hear in it the voice of the living God.

            But the enemies of the Gospel are always watching for an opportune time to rob you of such preaching, and Herodias and the demons identified the opportunity to silence John on the occasion of Herod’s birthday.  There was a big bash, a serious feast, a wining and dining of the elite of the elite.  These included Herod’s nobles and his generals and the leading citizens of Galilee.  Such feasts always serve a political purpose.  They offer an occasion for the ruler to show off his wealth and his power.  He shows the leading men a good time and shores up their loyalty.  The free-flow of alcohol looses the tongues.  Stories are told.  Boasts are made.  And hearts are merry.  And they’re all the merrier if Herod’s pretty step-daughter gives us a dance.  It’s not in the text, but we assume the dance was lewd.  Whether that’s true or not, it was certainly a crowd pleaser, and it exceedingly pleased Herod.  Caught up in the spirit of the moment and the spirits in his cup, Herod makes a rash vow.  “Ask me whatever you wish, and I will give it to you… up to half of my kingdom” (Mark 6:22-23; ESV).  It has been suggested Herod was offering to trade in the mother for a newer model, make Herodias’ daughter his wife.  It’s hard to say.  But this had been a set-up by Herodias the whole time.  Daughter asks mother, “For what should I ask,” and mother advises daughter, “The head of John the Baptist” (v. 24).  She wouldn’t be the last mother to demand a preacher’s head on a platter.  But she meant this quite literally.  She had trapped the king in his words.  Herod didn’t want to execute John.  But he also didn’t want to be embarrassed in the presence of his prestigious guests.  So rather than do what he knew to be right, he sold his soul for a dance.  Isn’t that the way of the world?  Herod promises to give up to half his kingdom, as if he were a powerful god, but in the end, we see he is nothing but a weak and insecure slave of his subjects.

            Well, John is beheaded.  So it goes.  But there would have been an easier way, you know.  If he had just tolerated the illegitimate marriage, this never would have happened.  He could have done so much more good if he’d just kept his trap shut this one time.  But that wasn’t his office, was it?  He was sent to be “the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight’” (Mark 1:3).  He was sent to proclaim “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (v. 4).  To everyone.  Even to sinful kings.  He doesn’t stay out of politics when the Word of the Lord is at stake.  He is not ashamed to proclaim the Lord’s testimony before kings (Psalm 119:46), even if it costs him his life.  Divine truth is worth dying for.  We forget that, living in a culture where the very existence of objective truth is denied.  But John knew it.  So did the prophets and the apostles and the martyrs of all ages who loved not their lives even unto death (Rev. 12:11). 

            What about you?  Are you afraid to bear witness to Christ?  Do you fear to speak His truth because your friends and family might rebuke you, or think mean thoughts about you, or unfriend you on Facebook?  Repent.  It’s getting harder, isn’t it?  The Lord knows your weakness, and has taken your failure into Himself and put it to death in His flesh.  And He gives you His Spirit, to make you bold, that you confess His Name and His Word, even if it means your death.  For you know that whoever lives and believes in Jesus, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Jesus shall never die (John 11:25-26).  And you know that whoever confesses Jesus before men, Jesus will also confess before His Father in heaven; but whoever denies Jesus before men, Jesus will also deny before His Father in heaven (Matt. 10:32-33). 

            But with John there is even more at play.  John is sent to prepare the way of the Lord quite literally.  John’s life, and his death, parallels that of Jesus on every level, except that what happens to Jesus is greater, what happens to John is lesser, just as he said it would be: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).  So John’s birth is foretold by the angel Gabriel, who promises he will be great before the Lord (Luke 1:15), and Jesus’ birth is foretold by the angel Gabriel, who promises the Child to be born is the Son of God (v. 35).  John’s birth is miraculous, born to elderly parents.  Jesus’ birth is even more miraculous, born of a virgin.  John baptizes for repentance, but Jesus offers a greater Baptism that not only washes away sin, but makes you God’s own child.  John has disciples, but he sends them to follow Jesus as “the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29).  And John prepares the way in suffering and death.  He is arrested and beheaded.  His disciples put his headless body into a tomb (Mark 6:29).  Jesus is arrested, tried, and crucified.  Joseph and Nicodemus put His pierced Body into a tomb.  And now it is Jesus’ turn to blaze the trail.  Jesus Christ is risen from the dead!  Herod worries that Jesus is John the Baptist raised from the dead, and his fear is not completely unfounded.  Because the risen Jesus will raise up John on the Last Day.  And He will raise you.  You’ll see John and Jesus with your very own eyes.  And you’ll praise God for the blood John shed, preparing the way for the Blood of the Savior, shed for you for the forgiveness of all of your sins.

            So you need not fear the enemies of the Gospel: Not Satan, nor the demons, nor sin, nor death; not Islamic terrorists, nor abortionists, nor foreign superpowers, nor the woke mob.  You need not fear the unfaithful who claim the Name of Christ, nor your own sinful flesh.  Jesus Christ is the end of fear.  The enemies of the Gospel are always watching for an opportune time to get you.  But they can never get to you when you are in Christ Jesus, in His Word, in Your Baptism, in His Supper.  The Lord also gives a Feast, and He outdoes Herod.  He, too, gives Food and Drink.  But He invites the weak of the weak, dying and dead sinners.  His Feast is the medicine that brings the dead to life.  His wine also looses tongues, not for boasting, but for confessing and singing songs of praise.  His wine makes our hearts merry, so that we rejoice, and we’re caught up in the Spirit, His Holy Spirit, who opens our lips to speak His Word with joy.  He makes no rash vow, but He does make a vow: “If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it” (John 14:14).  Not just half the Kingdom.  The whole enchilada.  It is the promise that He hears our prayers and answers them.  And unlike Herod, He delivers.  He is not trapped in His Words.  He holds Himself to them.  He is a powerful God, the only true God, with the Father and the Holy Spirit.  Though it is true that His Words result in a death: His own on the cross, for the life of the world.  For sinners.  For you. 

            Jesus Christ is crucified by the government also on account of marriage: that He might form for Himself a Bride, the holy Christian Church.  He sleeps the deep sleep of death, that from His side the Church be formed.  Water and Blood, Font and Chalice, filled with Jesus Christ crucified for you.  You are His beloved.  You are His spotless Bride.  As with any marriage, what is yours is His, and what is His is yours.  What is yours He has taken away: sin and death and condemnation.  What is His He has freely bestowed upon you: righteousness and life and resurrection.  In the Church, we preach traditional marriage, not because we’re ignorant, or prudes, or haters.  Let this be absolutely clear: You are to hate no one.  We preach traditional marriage because it is God’s gift for our good: for companionship, and procreation, and holy sexuality.  And we preach it because it is an icon of Christ and His Bride, the Church, a living picture of the Gospel.  The husband gives himself for his bride.  The bride receives the sacrifice of the husband for her good.  And in this pattern of giving and receiving, husband and wife live together in love and fidelity and so provide a safe haven for the nurture of children.  We all fall short of this in our marriages.  But this is what marriage is designed by God to be.  Until the Day the Lord Jesus comes again and bids us join Him at the wedding Feast of the Lamb that has no end.  Then St. John will have His head again.  And all will be made whole and right and good.  Indeed, come, Lord Jesus.  Come quickly.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.      

 

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

Seventh Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 9B)

July 7, 2024

The Holy Baptism of Jacob Thomas Downard

Text: Mark 6:1-13

            The Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head (Matt. 8:20), and pastors are homeless in this world.  As it is with Jesus, so it is with the preacher.  That is why we are faced with the question currently on all our minds.  Pastors are walking paradoxes.  They are to put down roots among their people… deeply, in fact… but be ready to be uprooted at any moment.  They are to love their people profoundly, yet expect that a time may come when that love is tested by separation.  Home?  Yes, in some sense, pastors are to make themselves at home in their congregation, in their community, in the lives of the saints with whom they are united by a bond thicker than blood, or maybe we should say, united by the bond of Jesus’ blood.  Yet, not at home, because there are other saints in other towns, united around the same blood of Jesus Christ, who need a shepherd, and the preaching of the Gospel, who need a man who will tend them and feed them.  And when a pastor least expects it, a call may come.  No, this is not an announcement.  I still don’t have any idea whether I’m staying or going.  But it’s just a statement of the reality.  I’ve come to realize in this process, that one thing I haven’t done very well is prepare you for this eventuality.  Sarah and I have always said, at Epiphany, and now at Augustana, we have to live in this place as though we’re here forever, and we have to live in this place as though we’re leaving tomorrow.  That’s just how it is.  Pastors are homeless in this world.

            They say you can’t go home again, the title of a novel now become a proverb, and it’s true.  Jesus tried it.  Out of love for His family, and friends, and neighbors, He came to His hometown to preach at His home congregation.  At first, it went well.  Seemed to, anyway.  The people were astonished.  “Where did He get such wisdom?  How does He do such mighty works?”  But then they began to wonder, undoubtedly when the sermon got too personal, “Just who does He think He is?  Talking to us like that!  What gives Him such authority?  He’s only a carpenter, you know.  A laborer.  We know Mary and the rest of the family.  There they are, in their usual place.  And we knew this youngster when He was just a kid in the congregation.  And we’ve heard the scandalous whispers about the circumstances of His birth.”  And, before you know it, they took offense at Him.  And they wouldn’t hear, and they wouldn’t believe, so that Jesus marveled at their unbelief.  It’s an important lesson for pastors.  For, as it is with Jesus, so it is with the preacher.  Probably not a good idea for a preacher to go be the pastor of people who changed his diapers.  It works sometimes, but not most of the time.  “A prophet is not without honor, except in his hometown and among his relatives and in his own household” (Mark 6:4; ESV).  Even home cannot be home for the pastor. 

            And then, there are the reactions to Jesus’ preaching.  It’s interesting, the text says “he could do no mighty work there, except that he laid his hands on a few sick people and healed them” (v. 5).  So, not everybody rejected Him.  There were some who received His saving presence.  This, too, is pretty instructive for a preacher.  You know, we preachers bellyache all the time about how few people there are at Church or in Bible Study.  And we say all the right things about “not looking at the numbers,” “you can’t gage success on that basis,” “God counts by ones,” and all that.  And it’s true.  That’s what you should believe.  It is also true that any shepherd who cares for his sheep will count them to make sure they’re all there, and safe, and well provisioned.  But, you know, sinful preachers always have an eye on the grand totals.  Posteriors in the pew.  Pennies in the plate.  As a matter of comfort (“Phew, I can keep my job for another week”).  As a matter of pride (“Look how many people come to listen to me! … Or don’t, in which case, I need to worry”)… It’s sinful.  I repent.  Jesus doesn’t worry about any of that.  He says what needs to be said.  He takes the rejection and hard-heartedness.  I mean, He just takes it.  It hurts Him, yes.  He marvels.  But He doesn’t let it stop Him.  He keeps going.  He keeps preaching.  And there are a few who receive it.  Sometimes more.  Sometimes less.  But there are some (and here, the some are gathered here today).  A preacher can’t really measure the effectiveness of his ministry when he’s in the midst of it.  Just keep preaching.  Just keep on keeping on.  It will bear fruit.  Because, as it goes with Jesus, so it goes with the preacher.  And what Jesus does as Preacher, so the preacher ought to do.

            Persistent preaching.  Real repentance for the real sins of real people.  Contrition and faith.  Preaching Christ.  And then, the fruits.  Works of love.  That is why Jesus sends out the Twelve, two by two.  He is multiplying the preaching.  He sends them (that is the meaning of the word, “Apostle”… one who is sent).  And where they speak, they speak for Him.  Their words are His words.  Those who hear them, hear Him.  It is His power at work in them.  He gives them authority over unclean spirits.  The Apostles will cast out demons with a Word… His Word, and by His Name, under His authority.  And they will heal afflictions by anointing… christening… with oil.  They are applying Christ to the sick and afflicted.  (And, of course, the true anointing is that of water and the Spirit in Holy Baptism, as we saw today.) 

            And they will receive all the reactions Christ Himself received.  Because, as it is with Jesus, so it is with the preacher.  There will be astonishment at the earthshaking good news of forgiveness of sins, life, and salvation in Christ Jesus… at the wisdom of His Word and the mighty works done by His hands.  And there will be rejection… “Who are you to claim authority over my life, to tell me what to do and what to believe?”  Both things are true.  A preacher really ought to marvel at the miracle that is the Christian congregation… that a group of any size comes together to hear what the preacher has to say about Jesus, and do all the countercultural things we do here at Church.  That is no human power at work.  That is God.  That is the Holy Spirit.  And it’s beautiful.  And perhaps the preacher ought not to marvel at rejection when it happens.  They rejected Jesus all the way to His sin-atoning death on the cross.  And so, they will assuredly reject the preacher of that cross. 

            But, regardless, the preacher is to trust, absolutely, in the providence of God, wherever the preacher may find himself.  Houses will be open to him.  That is, not only will the people receive the preacher into their homes, but they’ll make him at home with them.  When that happens, the preacher is to stay there.  Now, we may wish Jesus had said, “stay there forever,” but that’s not what He says.  He says, “stay there until you depart from there” (v. 10).  The preacher is not to look for cushier accommodations or a higher salary.  He is to stay there until it is time to go, which, apparently, will be evident in some way.  It’s easier when the preacher is rejected.  Then he can shake the dust from his feet and move on.  Often, though, things are not that simple.  Sometimes it is time to go when the preacher is not rejected.  But in any case, the preacher is not to worry about money, food, or clothing.  God Himself will provide for him, through His people.  Just a singular focus.  Go preach.  No matter what.  Expect the Word to do its work.  And expect the cross.

            The cross.  As it is with Jesus, so it is with the preacher.  And with every Christian, really.  That means you.  The holy cross manifests itself in every Christian life.  Now, do not be deceived.  The cross has been transformed.  Jesus suffered the cross for the redemption of the world.  By His death, He saved you and me.  And now, He is risen, and what was once a gruesome instrument of death is now the path of life eternal and the resurrection of the body.  But it does still hurt when God lays it upon us.  For the pastor, among other things, it is that he is a man without a home.  For the Christian, too, when you think about it, that is the cross… homelessness in this world… and that means you.  “For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Heb. 13:14).  That is, we have to take the long view.  Christ is coming.  Then, we will see Him as He is.  Then, we will all be together forever.  Then, finally, we will all be at home.

            Now, has this sermon been difficult to hear, or depressing for you?  Let it not be!  Jesus Christ is Lord of the Church.  He is Lord of this congregation, and He is your Lord.  He loves you, and orders all things for your good.  He died for you, for the forgiveness of your sins, and He is risen, and lives for you.  Don’t you dare give up on this congregation.  Don’t you dare give up on each other.  Christ has not given up on you.  This congregation has a glorious future, if only you will receive the gift, and steward it according to God's will.  And I, if I stay, will be honored to be a part of that stewardship for as long as the Lord gives us together.  And if I go, we will weep, but we will only be parted for a time.  We have eternity together.  And, in the meantime, we will meet every Lord’s Day at the altar.  There may be sadness, but there is no losing here.  We belong to Christ.  Baptized into Christ.  Bodied and blooded with Christ.  Hearing and believing His Word.  Beloved, trust Him.  Cling to Him.  Pray.  And rest in Him.  He has us.  No matter what.  Jesus is with us.  Helping us.  Healing us.  Providing for us.  And doing all things well.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.