Ash Wednesday

Ash Wednesday: “Behold the Man: A God Who Hungers”[1]

March 6, 2019

Text: Matt. 6:1-6, 16-21

            Almsgiving, prayer, and fasting, along with a good smear of ash on your forehead.  These are marks of Lent.  Prayer, of course.  We’re pretty good at that.  Almsgiving?  Maybe.  That is not just putting money in the offering plate, although that is nice.  But here we are talking about giving to the poor.  Fine.  Probably good for me to do once in a while.  We could stand a little more charity.  Ashes we’re used to on Ash Wednesday.  The older folks among us probably thought it was too Roman Catholic in the beginning, but now that we’ve been doing it for so many years, it’s second nature, and kind of fun.  The danger we must watch out for, of course, is that little ashen cross becoming a mark of pride.  Remember, it is not a mark of pride, but of humiliation. 

            But then there is fasting.  Fasting?  That’s the tough one, isn’t it?  Yet Jesus says, in our Holy Gospel tonight, “when you fast” (Matt. 6:16; ESV; emphasis added).  He doesn’t say “if.”  “When you fast.”  It’s not a command to fast.  He just assumes it.  The command is that when you do it, don’t be like the hypocrites who make a big show of it to be seen by others.  It’s the same warning we get with almsgiving and prayer, both of which Jesus also assumes… “when you give to the needy”… “when you pray” (vv. 2, 5), as undoubtedly you will, because that is a mark of being My disciple, don’t do it like the hypocrites do, the Pharisees or the super-Christians, to be seen by others.  It’s not about making others admire your great piety.  If that’s all you want for a reward, fine, you have it, and that’s all.  But these exercises are between you and your Father in heaven.  Your Father in heaven sees what you do in secret, and He will reward you.  He will bless your almsgiving for the good of your neighbor, and return it on your head sixty or a hundredfold, both in this life and the life to come.  He will hear your prayers and answer them for Jesus’ sake.  He will act for you, for your good, for your salvation.  He will see your fasting, and what He sees in secret, He will reward.  Oh, but fasting.  We’re just not sure what to do with that. 

            What is it about fasting that is so objectionable to us Lutherans, us Americans?  Well, the Lutherans are worried it’s too legalistic.  We’re afraid it smacks of works-righteousness.  Friend, if you’re going to worry about that, you’re never going to do any good work out of fear that it will lead to works-righteousness.  The key with fasting… or ashes, or almsgiving, or prayer, or not stealing, or being faithful to your spouse, or any other good work, is to remember that you aren’t doing it to earn your salvation.  Jesus did all of that already by His perfect fulfilling of the Law and His sin-atoning death on the cross for you.  That’s all given to you freely.  You don’t do good works to earn what is already yours in Christ as a gift.  You do good works because it is already yours in Christ as a gift.

            As far as our American objections to fasting, in a fast-food culture, fast-ing just seems weird (Hemmer).  I stand before you as proof positive that a little less fast-food and a little more fast-ing wouldn’t kill us. 

            But really the problem is, fasting is just too physical.  It’s all about the body.  There are similar objections to kneeling or making the sign of the cross or bowing toward the altar.  When piety gets too physical, too bodily, it becomes too real.  Same with Jesus Himself.  When He gets too physical, too bodily, He becomes too real.  That’s really the objection to the real presence in the bread and wine of the Sacrament.  Too fleshy for us.  We’re comfortable with a religion that is abstract and cerebral.  That is what we often mean by the word “spiritual,” as in everybody’s favorite phrase, “spiritual, but not religious.”  But when it touches us in the flesh and bone, it invades us.  Too real.  Too corporeal.

            But that is the religion of the God who is a man… Jesus.  His religion is all about flesh and blood.  It’s shocking.  Because it’s so real.  Christianity is anything but a head in the clouds religion. 

            Now think about this.  God, who is spirit, and who is essentially impassible and sufficient in Himself, now hungers.  Because He is a man.  Jesus.  Ever since the incarnation, the Second Person of the Holy Trinity, God the Son, has a stomach that rumbles when it is empty and needs to be filled.  He has a mouth, lips, teeth, a tongue, taste-buds, an esophagus, a stomach, large and small intestines.  He digests His food and expels it.  Some of the food He likes.  Probably some of it He doesn’t.  Sometimes it sits well, sometimes it doesn’t.  Sometimes His tummy gets upset.  He was nourished through an umbilical cord in His mother’s womb, by her milk when He was born.  Mary had to introduce different foods over time, as you do to a toddler, only He is the Creator of those very foods.  Undoubtedly He ate His fill as a growing boy, a teenager with a bottomless appetite.  He ate the Passover lamb with His family, He who is THE Passover Lamb.  He received His daily bread from God His heavenly Father, and it kept Him alive.  He’s just like us.  That’s pretty real.  It’s scandalous, actually.  It’s shocking enough to you Lutherans.  Think about how shocking it is to so many who think they know what Christianity is, but in reality, make up their own spirituality that has nothing to do with the body, and nothing to do with Jesus.  Let it sink in a minute.  Our God is a man.  Our God has flesh and blood.  We say it all the time in the Creed, but we take it for granted: “conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried… The third day He rose again from the dead.”  In His human, flesh and blood, body!         

            And it was with this body that our God was baptized in the Jordan River by John, and immediately cast out into the wilderness to fast for forty days and forty nights.  Needless to say, He was hungry.  And in His hunger, He did battle with the devil.  He resisted the temptation of the evil one.  Where our first parents fell to the serpent by taking and eating, our Lord was victorious by not taking and not eating.  For you and for your salvation.  His hunger is for your righteousness.  He denies His fleshly desires.  He knows that man does not live by bread alone, but by every Word that proceeds from the mouth of God.  He is tempted in every way as you are, yet without sin (Heb. 4:15).  He is successful where you are not.  He doesn’t just give up chocolate or soda for a few weeks.  He does not eat or drink.  Forty days of it.  He is suffering hunger for you.

            So fasting must not be such a terrible thing if Jesus did it.  And Moses did it.  And David.  And Ezekiel.  Esther had the people fast for her when she risked her life by going uninvited before the king.  It was physical component of their prayers.  St. John the Baptist fasted.  All the saints in the Bible fasted.  Jesus assumes you will fast.  He does not command you.  You don’t have to fast.  In fact, some of you shouldn’t for health reasons.  It is no sin.  No consciences are bound in this.  And whether you do or don’t fast, by the way, that’s none of anybody else’s business.  That’s between you and your God.  But for the able-bodied, Jesus assumes you will fast.  Just as He assumes you will give to the needy and pray.  This really is something maybe we Lutherans should reclaim as a discipline and as God’s gift to us.

            But what good is fasting, if it doesn’t earn us brownie points with God or contribute toward our salvation?  First, it disciplines the flesh.  This is hard for us as Americans to understand, but it is good to deny yourself sometimes.  Denying your stomach reminds you that your stomach is not your god.  It can’t boss you around.  It is good to remind your body that you don’t live by food, but by God’s Word.  And denying your stomach disciplines you to deny other fleshly desires: lust, covetousness, greed, selfishness.  It’s a training.  It gets you into shape.

            Here is what Luther says about fasting: “It is right to fast frequently in order to subdue and control the body.  For when the stomach is full, the body does not serve for preaching, for praying, for studying, or for doing anything else that is good.  Under such circumstances God’s Word cannot remain.  But one should not fast with a view to meriting something by it as by a good work.”[2]  That’s a very reasonable assessment.  It reminds us of what we memorized in the Small Catechism: “Fasting and bodily preparation are certainly fine outward training,”[3] especially in preparation for the Sacrament.  It doesn’t take the place of faith.  But it is good. 

            Then, too, it is good that fasting teaches you how weak you are.  If you’re giving up chocolate this year, you know how hard that will be.  Part of the discipline is to show you you’re not such a great Christian.  You can’t even give up chocolate, much less fast, much less give up your sins.  Oh, how you need Jesus Christ and His salvation!  This leads you to repentance.  It puts you in the right disposition before God, as a sinner, utterly dependent on God’s mercy in Christ. 

            Repentance, now that is what Lent is all about.  Return to the Lord your God, preaches the Prophet Joel (2:13).  Blow the trumpet and consecrate a fast.  Call the congregation together for a day of humiliation and prayer (vv. 15 ff.).  For the Lord is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (v. 13).  Fasting is a physical act of repentance, like the ashes on your forehead, like tearing your clothes and sitting in sackcloth, or prostrating yourself before God. 

            But if for no other reason, fasting is good because it reminds us that Jesus is a man, and as a man in His state of humiliation, He hungered.  For you.  He is a real man, and He has suffered all that you have suffered, only His suffering is for your redemption.  In the end, Lenten discipline, including fasting and almsgiving and prayer, is not about what you do.  It is about what Jesus does for you.  It is about His incarnation, His coming into your flesh and blood.  It is about His suffering and death on the cross for your forgiveness, to reconcile you to God the Father.  It is about His bodily resurrection from the dead, which is your righteousness and eternal life. 

            Don’t be afraid to fast.  Just give it a try.  What could it hurt?  I think you’ll find it enriching.  But whether you do or don’t, receive this Lenten gift from Jesus, that this is a season for living by every Word that proceeds from the mouth of God, for self-examination, repentance and confession of sins, for living by the Holy Absolution, firmly rooted in your Baptism, and for opening your mouth at the altar to be fed with the living Bread from heaven, the very human body of Jesus given on the cross for you, now hidden under the bread… the very human blood of Jesus shed on the cross for you, now hidden under the wine.  Fasting focuses us on that Feast.  And that Feast is the Bread of eternal life, Jesus Christ for you.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.           

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[1] Based on Jeffrey Hemmer, Behold the Man! (St. Louis: Concordia, 2018).

[2] What Luther Says (St. Louis: Concordia, 1959) §506.

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

The Transfiguration of Our Lord

The Transfiguration of Our Lord (C)

March 3, 2019

Text: Luke 9:28-36

            Your heavenly Father underscores the point for you in no uncertain terms: “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!” (Luke 9:35; ESV).  Jesus of Nazareth, born of the Virgin Mary, is the Son of God, begotten from all eternity.  He is the One anointed by the Father with the Holy Spirit at His Baptism in the Jordan to undertake the divine mission of salvation.  Jesus alone is your Savior.  Jesus alone is your righteousness.  Jesus alone is your eternal life, your death and resurrection.  He is your God.  And to Him alone you shall listen.  For faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the Word of Christ (Rom. 10:17).  And you are saved through faith alone in Christ alone.  It is by grace alone.  The Father makes sure you don’t miss it.  He glorifies His Son there on the mountain, the divinity radiantly shining through the humanity and the voice from the cloud.  This is it.  This man is your salvation, your God.  Look nowhere else.  Listen nowhere else.  Listen to Him.

            The trouble is two-fold: There are so many voices that are not Jesus competing for your ear.  And your sinful flesh is willing and eager to hear any and every voice that is not Jesus.  What are some of these voices vying for your attention?  Well, if you’re anything like me, it is at this point in the sermon that you start to wonder what’s for lunch.  Tuning out Jesus, in your mind, you go over the menu and your plans for the afternoon.  Then other thoughts creep in.  Who is that sitting three pews ahead, and what is she wearing?  I wonder what this week will bring at work or school.  Your mind wanders, and before you know it, you hear, “In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.”  And it’s all over. 

            But there are even more sinister voices vying for your attention.  The information age is a blessing in so many ways, but the constant barrage of media that relentlessly assaults you on screens and over speakers and through the phone in your pocket has you distracted and hypnotized.  And hopefully you already know this, but if you don’t, take careful note: The media’s agenda is that of the unbelieving world.  That means the entertainment industry, and yes, even the evening news.  Most of the content is ungodly.  Be discerning, beloved.  Test the spirits.  This is not the voice of Jesus.  To be sure, the Church can use various media to proclaim Christ to the world, and we should.  But in general, what is the message with which we’re saturated day-in and day-out, morning, noon, and night?  Lust.  Greed.  Covetousness.  Selfishness. “You deserve it.”  “You can’t live without it.”  It’s actually the voice of the old serpent from the Garden.  “God is holding out on you.  He doesn’t want you to have any fun.  Be your own determiner of right and wrong.  Decide for yourself what you want and need.  Be like God.  Worship self.  Just look at that fruit: Pleasing to the eye and good for food.”  Before you know it, you’ve taken and eaten.  And you’re naked.  And you’re dying.  You are, in fact, dead.

            Jesus takes three men in your same condition, Peter, John, and James up on the mountain to pray.  As is their custom, while Jesus is praying, these three fall asleep.  We’ll see them do the same thing on the night Jesus is betrayed.  Just like you and me.  A three hour football game or a movie can rivet our attention, but a few minutes with Jesus (you know, the living God who saves us from death and hell) and our eyes get heavy and our heads start to nod.  It’s a defense mechanism of the sinful nature against God’s Word.  We tune Him out. 

            Still, Jesus takes these three with Him for this occasion, just as He takes you and me with Him here, for this occasion, to meet Him in His Church.  There are the three, snoring away, failing to watch and pray, only to wake up to a glorious sight.  God the Son is shining His glory through His flesh and even His clothing so that there’s no mistaking it: This man is the Son of God.  This man is the Savior.  Two other men appear with Him, to bear witness to this truth, Moses and Elijah, the Law and the Prophets, representatives of the whole Old Testament.  The Scriptures are fulfilled in Jesus.  They talk with Jesus.  And here we find out why it’s so important for us to listen to Jesus.  The whole content of their discussion is about Jesus’ departure.  That’s the word our English translation uses, but it’s difficult to get true sense of the word in English.  The word really is “exodus.”  They talk with Him about His exodus, His journey.  Here we call to mind Israel’s exodus from slavery in Egypt, through the wilderness, to the Promised Land.  Jesus is leading us in exodus from our slavery to sin, death, and the devil, through the wilderness of this fallen world, across the Jordan, the valley of the shadow of death, to the Promised Land of eternal life and resurrection.  His exodus is the journey to the cross to make atonement for our sins, His burial in the grave, His resurrection on the Third Day, and His ascension into heaven to sit at the right hand of the Father.  That’s what they’re discussing.  That’s what the Scriptures are about from Genesis 1 through Revelation 22.  We preach Christ crucified (1 Cor. 1:23).  That’s the Word to listen to.  Because in that Word there is life for the dead.  There is life for you. 

            And just so you and Peter, John, and James don’t miss it, the Father envelopes the whole crowd in a cloud (God is always appearing in clouds throughout the Scriptures… the cloud that lead the children of Israel by day and the pillar of fire by night… the cloud that filled the Temple when Solomon dedicated it… the cloud of God’s presence)… The Father envelopes the scene in a cloud, and He speaks: “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him!”  And then all at once it’s over… “when the voice had spoken, Jesus was found alone” (Luke 9:36).  Because He’s all you need.  Having Jesus, you have the Father.  Having Jesus, you have the fulfillment of the Law and the Prophets and all the Scriptures.  Having Jesus, you have the forgiveness of sins, salvation, and eternal life.  Listen to Him and you have Him, and having Him, you have all you need.

            If only we could see what Peter, John, and James were given to see.  And yet, glorious visions have a limited shelf-life.  As we mentioned, these three would fall asleep again on another mountain, the Mount of Olives, very shortly.  They would fail again and again to listen to Jesus.  They would all desert Him.  Peter would even deny Him.  In fact, they really didn’t understand this whole event at the time.  Remember, Peter wants to stay on the mountain and build three tents for Jesus, Moses, and Elijah.  He wants to celebrate the Feast of Tabernacles.  Luke tells us He didn’t even know what he was saying (v. 33).  When they came down the mountain, they kept silent about the whole affair.  It was just too strange.  It wasn’t until later, after the resurrection, after Pentecost and the coming of the Holy Spirit, that the three began to speak of what they witnessed, and finally they understood it.  God had given them this experience to strengthen them for the events of Holy Week, and to strengthen us through their witness to bear up under our wilderness wanderings, trusting in Christ who will lead us home to God in heaven. 

            It is tempting to think we want a glorious experience like the apostles.  But Peter, much later in life, when reflecting on this experience writes that we have all we need in the Holy Scriptures.  That is where we listen to Jesus.  “For when he received honor and glory from God the Father, and the voice was borne to him by the Majestic Glory, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased,’ we ourselves heard this very voice borne from heaven, for we were with him on the holy mountain.  And we have the prophetic word more fully confirmed, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts” (2 Peter 1:17-19).  Do you hear what Peter is saying?  You have the same benefits he received witnessing the Transfiguration, even more sure and certain, in the Holy Scriptures, which enlighten you as a lamp shining in a dark place.  You have not been given to see the glory of Jesus with your physical eyes, as the three apostles were.  But you have been given ears to hear.  You can hear Jesus in His Word.  Listen to Him.

            The fact is, glorious experience or not, you can’t stay on the mountain.  Jesus has a cross to bear for us men and for our salvation, and He will descend the mountain to bear it.  And you and all the disciples of Jesus have crosses to bear in your life, because this is, after all, the wilderness portion of the exodus, life in this fallen world, in your fallen flesh, which gets sleepy and distracted by other voices vying for your attention.  Repent.  That fallen flesh must be crucified.  You must die so that God can raise you from the dead by the Word of the living Lord Jesus.  By grace, the Lord Jesus brings you here to His Church, sleepy as you are, to pray and to see something amazing.  This place, the Church, is your Mount of Transfiguration.  By faith you hear the living voice of Jesus in His Word, and hearing Jesus, you hear the Father.  By faith you see the Divine Nature shining through the Body and Blood of the Savior under the bread and wine of the Supper.  You are caught up into heaven in this place.  And the Father says to you, “This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to Him!”  And by God’s grace, by the power of the Holy Spirit, you do.

            Lent is a time for listening to Jesus.  On this last Sunday before Lent, we’ve been given a glimpse of Jesus’ glory to strengthen us for this holy time.  It’s a time for deep meditation on our Lord’s Word and His Passion, for self-examination and repentance and confession of sins, for disciplining the body and the soul and putting the old sinful flesh to death.  We put our alleluias away for a time, to help us focus, only to take them up again forty-some days later at the Easter Feast.  Christ is risen, but first the cross and our Lord’s suffering for our sins.  Receive your Lord’s gifts this Lententide.  Be here, beloved.  God wake you from your sleepiness.  There is no other place more important for you to be.  There is no other voice more important for you to heed.  There is no other voice that can give you life.  The Father has called you to faith in His Son.  He’s given you His Word in the flesh.  Listen to Him.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany

Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany (C)

February 24, 2019

Text: Luke 6:27-38

            It’s all about mercy.  “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:36; ESV).  That is to say, be who you are in Christ, and act toward your neighbor accordingly.  Your Father in heaven is merciful toward you.  That’s almost an understatement.  Your Father does not count your sins against you.  Your sins are a rejection of Him as your God, a rejection of His love, yet He does not reject you.  He sent His Son to take your sin, your rejection of God, upon Himself, and put it to death in His body on the cross, so that you be forgiven all your sins and reconciled to God, adopted as His own dear child in Holy Baptism (as we saw again this morning with Hilde) and made an heir with Christ of the Father’s Kingdom.  You who were God’s sworn enemy He has reconciled to Himself by sending His Son to die, for you, in your place, to suffer your punishment.  If you even begin to remotely appreciate the profundity of God’s mercy toward you, you will be merciful to others.  You will forgive their sins against you.  You will love even your enemies, as God loved you, who were once His enemy.  You will do good to those who hate you, as God sent His Son for you, who once hated Him.  You will bless the one who curses you and pray for the one who abuses you.  You will die to yourself.  You will die for your neighbor.  For that is mercy, the mercy bestowed upon you by God in Christ, that now flows through you and toward your neighbor.  God’s mercy is the power behind your mercy.  Be who you are, and act accordingly.  You are a baptized, forgiven child of God.  You are in Christ, who died for you, a Christian, a little Christ.  Be Christ to your neighbor.  Even, and especially, to your enemy. 

            This sounds like crazy talk, but it’s really part of the backwards reality we talked about last week.  Jesus turns everything on its head, because you and I, in our fallen nature, have everything upside down and inside out.  Human wisdom is to love those who love you and do good to those who do good to you.  On the other hand, we don’t love those who hurt us.  It doesn’t come naturally to us to turn the other cheek.  Actually, we love to judge others, condemn them.  They have it coming.  I hope there’s a policeman up ahead for that guy who sped past me and cut me off.  I hope the repairman who overcharged me gets a taste of his own medicine.  You want to insult me?  Get ready, my friend, because I have a few choice words for you.  This somehow makes us feel better about ourselves.  It’s the old trick of tearing another sinner down to size so I appear to be not so bad in my own eyes and the eyes of others.  This, by the way, is what Jesus means when He says “Judge not, and you will not be judged” (v. 37).  He doesn’t mean don’t make moral judgments, as this verse is so often abused by the world and even by well-meaning Christians.  Of course you should make moral judgments.  When something violates the clear Word of God, that thing is sinful, and it harms people, and it harms the sinner’s relationship to God.  Love for the sinner demands that you call the sin what it is.  But not judging the person means you don’t condemn the person.  The person is a sinner.  Great.  So are you.  You’re not the judge.  God is.  Let Him do His job.  You do yours, which is to repent.  You have enough sins to worry about of your own without condemning another.  And be merciful.  For God forgives you all your sins for Jesus sake.  You are to forgive your neighbor.

            You have a hard time with this, needless to say.  The answer to that, by the way, is not to say, “Oh well, I can’t do it, but I’ll wait for Pastor to say the Gospel so I’m off the hook.”  No, the answer is, repent.  You really should do these things.  Jesus commands them.  You really should want to do these things.  After all, Jesus has done them for you.  And that is really the point.  What Jesus commands you to do in our Gospel this morning is first and foremost a description of Himself.  He loves His enemies.  You.  Unto death on the cross.  He does good to those who hate Him.  You.  He saves you.  He blesses those who curse Him and prays for those who abuse Him.  He prays from the cross, both for those who are carrying out His execution, and for you who nail Him to the cross by your sin: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34).  He gives His back to those who strike and His cheek to those who pull out the beard (Is. 50:6).  They divide His cloak among them and gamble over His seamless tunic.  He gives not only His possessions, but Himself, His very life, to those who beg.  He is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.  He is kind to sinners.  He dies for sinners, for the forgiveness of sins. 

            Now, Jesus is the Judge.  It is Jesus Christ, crucified and risen from the dead, who will return visibly on the Last Day to judge the living and the dead.  We are not to judge lest we be judged.  He is to judge, for He has been judged in our place.  He swallowed up all the abuse sin, death, and the devil, the world, and our own sinful flesh could throw at Him.  He swallowed up God’s righteous wrath against sinners and sin.  He was condemned, so that we will not be condemned on that Day.  So don’t condemn your neighbor.  All your sins are forgiven because Jesus turned the other cheek for you.  So you forgive your neighbor.  Even if he doesn’t deserve it.  Even if he doesn’t want it.  How many people did Jesus suffer and die for who ultimately reject it?  None of us deserve it.  None of us is really even all that sorry most of the time.  And many don’t want it at all, this forgiveness and salvation Jesus gives, and so they reject it all the way to hell.  Still, He does it all for them, and for you. 

            Forgiving someone who has sinned against you is hard, and it’s true you’ll never do it perfectly in this sinful flesh.  Stop using that as an excuse.  When you’re having a hard time forgiving, repent.  That’s your sin.  Yes, you’re forgiven in the Name of Jesus.  But that’s not the end of it.  Get back at it.  Practice forgiveness.  It’s a thing we always have to be practicing, because we don’t get it perfect until heaven.  But do practice it. 

            In my pastoral experience, the most freeing thing we can know about forgiveness is that it is not an emotion.  People get this all backwards and think forgiveness is having warm and fuzzy feelings about the person.  Forgiveness is not how you feel about a person.  Because love is not an emotion, not a feeling.  To forgive a person is to love that person.  And love is a decision and action to seek the good of the person.  That’s what Jesus is telling you to do.  How do you forgive someone?  Jesus tells you here.  You pray for them.  You bless them.  Not in that vindictive way where you self-righteously say with disdain in your voice, “I’ll pray for you.”  That’s Old Adam trying to get his licks in again.  Kill him.  Back to the font.  But really pray.  Go into your closet, get down on your knees, and say, “Almighty God, you have had mercy on me and made me your own in Christ, forgiving me all my sins by His blood and death for me.  Have mercy on this person who has hurt me.  Forgive his sins.  Give him faith in Jesus Christ and eternal life.  Bless him and keep him.  And grant me to keep loving him by praying for him and seeking his good.  If I am to do this, O Lord, You must do it in me, for there is no good in me to do it of myself.  But I commend all into Your hands, and if you do it in me, it will be done for Jesus’ sake.” 

            And do you know, there is nothing so freeing as giving your sins and the sins of your neighbor against you into the pierced hands of Jesus for forgiveness, hurling them into the abyss of His inexhaustible mercy and love.  This is conventional wisdom and not even really the Bible, but it is true that refusing to forgive your neighbor really just holds you in bondage to their sin against you.  They may not even be worried whether you forgive them, but you’re all tied up inside, bound by the chains of whatever they’ve done to you.  The Greek word for “forgive” literally means to “release.”  Jesus releases you from your sins when He forgives you.  You release your neighbor and yourself from their sins by forgiving them. 

            And then there’s this.  As we said a moment ago, in His suffering and death on the cross for you, Jesus swallows up all God’s wrath against your sin, and all the bitterness and curse of sin itself, so that it spends itself on Him and cannot harm you.  When you forgive your neighbor, you are dying a little death for him.  That’s why it’s so hard, why Old Adam kicks against it so furiously.  You don’t want to die.  But Jesus says die to yourself, take up your cross, and follow Him.  And when you do, you swallow up all the wrath so that it can’t harm anybody else.  Not your neighbor who is sinning against you.  Not anyone.  I’ve seen this myself.  Someone comes against you with all their anger and malice, and it’s like a great wave of wrath that washes over you.  Now, if you fight that wave with a wave of your own, it gives energy to the chaos of the whole thing, and the wrath multiplies and leaves all sorts of destruction in its wake.  But if you just take it, and respond with blessing instead of cursing, prayer instead of bitterness, it’s like a great chasm opens that swallows the whole thing.  You rob the wave of all its energy and it can’t hurt anyone anymore.  Well, except it does hurt you.  I’m not gonna lie.  Because it is the death of you.  You’re doing what Jesus did.  And talk about loving your enemies, “Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).  To die in this way can make your enemy your friend.  It is certainly to treat him as a friend.  But we know what happens to the One who gives Himself into death for sinners.  He rises from the dead.  And so it will happen to you.

            Well, I don’t usually go to the movies to make the points in my sermon, but the kids have me watching Star Wars lately, and there is the most amazing scene in the first movie (the real first one, from 1977).  The gang is trying to make it safely off of the Death Star while Obi-wan Kenobi battles Darth Vader in a spectacular lightsaber duel.  Obi-wan is fighting for his friends, and we should always fight against evil for the sake of others.  He matches Vader strike for strike.  He’s not at any disadvantage.  But as soon as he sees that his friends will be safe, a knowing grin of acceptance spreads across his face.  He stops fighting and he holds his lightsaber up to his forehead and closes his eyes.  Vader strikes him down.  But in killing Obi-wan, Vader has lost his power over him, and over the rest.  Obi-wan has swallowed up the wrath.  In death, he is more powerful in life.

            But we don’t have to go to movies to see this truth.  We have Jesus.  Like Hilde, we’re baptized into Jesus.  We eat and drink Jesus and His Body and Blood courses through our veins.  And we have the martyrs, our Christian brothers and sisters throughout the ages and across the globe who loved their enemies and died to themselves.  And though they died, they live, and they are more blessed in death than they were in life.  Jesus faced down the devil to deliver us to safety and salvation.  And when His work was finished, He commended Himself to the Father, bowed His head, and gave up His Spirit.  In killing Jesus, our real enemies, sin, death, and the devil, lost their power.  When you die for your neighbor, which is to say, love him and forgive him, sin loses its power.  God grant us all to do that very thing.  “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.”  It’s all about mercy.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.            

Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany

Sixth Sunday after the Epiphany (C)

February 17, 2019

Text: Luke 6:17-26

            Either Jesus gets everything backwards, or we do.  I think you know the answer to that, but just consider for a moment how utterly backwards our Lord’s blessings and woes sound to our fallen human ears.  Blessed are you who are poor?  Who are hungry, who weep, who are hated, excluded, reviled, spurned as evil?  And then: Cursed are you who are rich?  Who are full, who laugh, who are well-spoken of by others?  This is the opposite of the American Dream.  We consider those blessed who are wealthy and happy and have a good reputation.  And the poor?  They should get a job.  Those who weep need to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps.  Most people with a bad name have earned it.  What on earth is going on here?  What does this mean?  Four blessings, the beatitudes.  Four curses, the woes.  And all is not as it appears.  Jesus turns everything on its head, as He is wont to do, because you and I, as we are wont to do, have everything utterly inside out and upside down.

            The question, really, is not how much money you have, how much you eat and drink, or whether you are persecuted and reviled.  These are but the symptoms of the greater issue, and circumstances change.  The issue is not one of outward appearance, but of being.  Who are you, and to whom do you belong?  The issue is one of faith.  The issue is one of Christ.  And the Prophet Jeremiah makes this clear in our Old Testament reading (Jer. 17:5-8).  You either trust in man, whether it be yourself, or other men, or the stuff of men, the stuff of this life.  Or you trust in the LORD, YHWH, the one true God, the Father who sent His Son to become flesh, conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, to suffer and die on the cross for the forgiveness of your sins, your life, and your salvation.  If you trust in man, if flesh is your strength, if your counting on your wealth or your possessions or your honor, or even and especially your own good works, then you may be rich now, and full now, you may laugh now, and be respected now, but when the drought comes, you’re like a shrub in the desert.  For all your riches, you’re really destitute.  Turns out you have nothing.  You shall not see any good come.  You shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness, an uninhabited salt land, which is just another way of saying, hell.  No God, no good.  That’s hell.  That’s what trust in man gets you.  Hell. 

            But if you trust in the LORD, and Jesus Christ, whom He has sent, then you may be poor now, hungry, mourning, and persecuted now, but what can any of those bad things do to you?  The LORD God is on your side.  He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for you to death on the cross, how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give you all things (Cf. Rom. 8:32)?  So when the drought comes, you are like a tree planted by the water, sending out your roots by the stream.  And what is the water but that which is included in God’s command and combined with God’s Word, the water of your Baptism into Christ?  The worst drought the devil, the world, and your own sinful flesh can throw at you cannot rob you of the water.  It cannot rob you of Christ.  So you do not fear.  Your leaves remain green.  You are not anxious in times of economic crisis or famine, when the money dries up and the tummy rumbles, nor in times of grief or persecution, when you come face to face with death, when people hate you and exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil on account of the Son of Man.  You can rejoice and be glad in that day, for the tree planted by this water, the one in Christ, cannot be moved.  And so their fathers did to the prophets who were before you.  Learn from the prophets what it means to be rich in poverty, full in scarcity, filled with joy even in the midst of grief, to rejoice in persecution.  They did not love their lives unto death, and their reward is in heaven.

            That is why you are blessed when the world would call you anything but.  You poor, you who, even in the midst of worldly wealth, know that you have nothing… Yours is the Kingdom of heaven. 

            You who are hungry now, take the long view.  Your hunger is for this earthly life only.  It is the blink of an eye.  This is not to say that we should not feed the hungry.  Quite the contrary.  But it is to proclaim good news to those who lack.  You shall be satisfied!  The sign points to the reality of that Day.  Remember how Jesus fed the 5,000 men plus women and children on five loaves and two fishes?  And twelve baskets full were left over.  Jesus is the living Bread from Heaven.  He will not leave you empty. 

            And you who weep now, who know the sorrows of this world, who have been beaten down by the changes and chances of this life, who know the cold sting of death… Take heart!  You shall laugh.  Your mourning shall be turned into dancing.  Jesus is the end of death. 

            And to all of you in the holy faith of Christ, who are despised and rejected by the world, mocked and ridiculed, shunned by family members and those you thought were friends, those you thought loved you, simply because you confess Christ and His Word… that is now, but rejoice for what will be.  Your reward is great in heaven.  Leap for joy.  Thank God that you have been counted worthy to suffer for the Name of Christ.  You may lose your business if you try to run it according to your biblical convictions.  You may have to pay fines or lose your livelihood.  Your Christian confession may be labeled hate speech.  And the day is coming sooner than later when Christians will suffer imprisonment and death once again.  It has happened before.  It is happening now in other places throughout the world.  Don’t think that you are immune.  But let not your heart be troubled.  Your Father in heaven sees.  He hears your prayers.  He will come to your aid.  He will deliver you.  He will never leave you or forsake you.

            So you are blessed.  That is the reality Jesus has pronounced over you.  But the most important thing you have to understand about these beatitudes is that, before they can be about you, they are first and ultimately about Christ.  This is a description of your Savior.  He is the poor man.  Literally, born into poverty, in a stable in Bethlehem.  His parents have to give the sacrifice of the poor when He is presented at the Temple, two turtledoves, or two young pigeons.  He is raised in a carpenter’s home.  He is not rich.  But even more profound, St. Paul preaches to us, “you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9; ESV).  His ultimate poverty is that of the cross.  There He is the Sin-Bearer.  He who knew no sin became sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God (2 Cor. 5:21).  He who is everything becomes nothing on Golgotha, a worm and not a man, hungering and thirsting for our righteousness, for our salvation, with shame and grief weighed down, hated by all, excluded, reviled, spurned as evil.  Not just by man, but stricken by God, smitten by Him, and afflicted (Cf. Is. 53).  Jesus, our blessed Lord, becomes the Curse for us, for it is written, “Cursed is everyone who is hanged on a tree” (Gal. 3:13; Cf. Deut. 21:23). 

            But what happens in His accursedness?  He defeats it.  He rises from the dead.  The Kingdom of God is His.  He is the Kingdom of God in the flesh.  And He has purchased you by His own blood to be in His Kingdom as His own beloved citizen and as a child of His heavenly Father, to live under Him and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness.  Where Jesus is, we are, by virtue of our Baptism into Christ.  Who are you, and to Whom do you belong?  You are baptized into Christ, a Christian, and you belong to Christ.  No identity crisis for you.  You are not your job.  You are not your wealth and possessions.  You are not your good name and reputation.  And you are certainly not your good works or merit before God.  Your identity is all wrapped up in the flesh and blood of Christ.  Let me say it again: Who are you, and to Whom do you belong?  You are baptized into Christ, and you belong to Christ.  Therefore you are blessed.  And He sets a Feast before you, His own Body and Blood, which is just a foretaste of the eternal Feast to come.  You are filled.  You are satisfied.  And you laugh and sing and rejoice at this Feast, as you will for all eternity, for this is just the beginning of your reward which is great in heaven, all of which is pure gift from the Lord Jesus.  The beatitudes are about you, because they are first and ultimately about Jesus. 

            Now, we’ve talked about the blessings and the woes, but we dare not neglect the introduction of our Gospel reading where we learn what happens whenever we gather around Jesus to hear His Word.  He touches us at the very core of our poverty and lack and grief.  And He heals us.  He forgives our sins.  He fills us with Himself and all of His gifts.  And He frees us from all that binds us.  He heals our sickness and disease.  He puts the demons to flight.  He gives us life where once there was only death.  And notice, that all these people who came to hear Him sought to touch Him, and power came out from Him and He healed them all (Luke 6:19).  Well, here we are, gathered around Jesus to hear His life-giving Word and be healed by Him.  And now we long to touch Him, so that the same power comes out from Him to heal us.  And that is what happens at the altar.  His Body.  His Blood.  Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of sins, to put the demons to flight, and to heal you of all your afflictions.  The ultimate healing, of course, happens on that Day when Jesus comes again in glory to raise you from the dead.  But the beginning of that healing is here, now, in the gift He gives when He touches you.  That is the power that comes out from Him.  Our whole life is lived around the altar, because our whole life is lived around and in Jesus.  Our identity, our very being, is Jesus. 

            Woe to all who trust in man.  They have received their good things now.  Their punishment awaits.  But blessed are you who trust in the LORD.  No evil can finally harm you.  Not really.  For you are baptized into Christ.  You belong to Christ.  He is your wealth, your satisfaction, and your eternal reward.  He is your whole identity.  In the Name of the Father, and of the Son (+), and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.