Sunday, February 27, 2022

Sermon for the Transfiguration of Our Lord

LISTEN


Jesu Juva


“Where Jesus Is, It Is Good”

Text: Hebrews 3:1-6; Deuteronomy 34:1-12; Luke 9:28-36


Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.


The verses we heard from the book of Hebrews today praise Moses. Twice it tells us that Moses was faithful in all God’s house. Among a stiff-necked and rebellious people who kept doubting God and His love, doing what they wanted and turning away from Him, Moses remained faithful.


And He surely was. Think back to his story and all you know about Moses . . .


Moses was a great leader. Moses had a relationship with God unlike any other - He spoke to God face-to-face. Under Moses’ leadership the people escaped from their bondage in Egypt, went through the Red Sea, had manna to eat, water from a rock to drink, received the Law of God on Mt. Sinai, as well as the tabernacle, the priesthood, the sacrifices, and the glory of the Lord dwelling among them, they were rescued from the fiery serpents with the bronze snake on a pole Moses held up, they survived for 40 years in the wilderness without their clothes or shoes wearing out, and he returned them to the border of the Promised Land after they ran away in fear the first time. And there’s probably more stuff that I forgot to mention. Moses was great. No doubt.


But ask Moses, and he would tell you a different story. Moses knew he was nothing. Actually, that’s not true. He knew he was a murderer, having killed an Egyptian man. He knew he should have been killed on his way to Egypt if not rescued by his wife. He knew he was too afraid to go to Pharaoh and speak on his own. He knew he was unable to lead this people. He knew he had his good moments and bad moments, and he knew he was a great sinner. And for this he would not enter the Promised Land of Canaan. He did not blame his fellow Israelites, though he could have. It was their fault, after all. Their cowardice that kept them out the first time. If they had just gone in when they should have, trusting in God and His word and promises, Moses would have gotten there, too. But now he was to die. Just short of the goal he could see. Like a marathoner dropping to the ground in exhaustion just short of the finish line.


But Moses did enter the Promised Land - just not this one. Not the one of this earth. But the one to which this one pointed. The greater one. The heavenly one. A kingdom not still in the making, but prepared for us. The one not flowing with milk and honey, but where one eats of the trees of life forever. Where God dwells not in a tabernacle or temple, covered by a cloud for our protection, but where His glory shines forth and we are unafraid. Where there is no sin, no death, no hurt or pain, no tears or sorrow. The kingdom not of Israel, but the kingdom of God. That greater Promised Land Moses would enter, because of the prophet coming after Him, the one greater than him.


The one he stands with, as we heard today, on the Mount of Transfiguration. And no, not Elijah. 


All his life, Moses testified to Him, this greater one. Everything Moses said and wrote pointed to Him, and this greater one would fulfill it. In Him is the new creation. He is the true tabernacle of God. He is the fulfiller of the Law. He is the once and for all atoning sacrifice. He is the one and only great high priest. He is the true Passover Lamb, the one who brings us through the waters of baptism, the one who feeds us with His Body and Blood, who gives us living water. He is the one lifted up on the cross that all bitten by the fiery serpent of hell look at in faith and not die but live. He is the one who leads us into His Promised Land and without Him, apart from Him, no one enters. Apart from Him, everyone dies, like Moses - seeing it, but not able to enter it.


But in Jesus, there is life. Entrance. Hope.


Luke tells us that Moses is on a mountain top again, just as he was on Mount Sinai. There is a great cloud again, and the voice of God again. But this time the giving is not of the Law but of the fulfiller of the Law. This time the conversation is not about the exodus from Egypt that just happened, but about the exodus from sin death that was about to happen by the cross.


Peter doesn’t quite get it. Even though Jesus had told him about His crucifixion and death just eight days before this! (But let’s be honest - how often do we not quite get it either!) So he says, Lord, it is good to be here. No, not really. What is good, Peter, is to go down from there and for Jesus to go to the cross for you. That’s the good being talked about that day, the conversation Jesus, Moses, and Elijah were having. Peter, though, clings to what his eyes see, not what his ears hear. So the voice from the cloud, the voice of the Father, reminds him, corrects him: This is my Son, my Chosen One; listen to him! His words tell us what we need to hear. What we need for life.


So that’s good advice for us as well. For us who, like Peter, don’t always get it. Who cling to what our eyes see, not what our ears hear. Who have our own idea of what is good and what is not and where it is good to be. Listen to Him, if you want to know that. 


For maybe where we are or where we want to be or where we think we should be or where we think it is good to be, isn’t good at all. So while Peter wasn’t all wrong when he said it is good to be here, he wasn’t all right either. The truth is that it is good to be wherever Jesus is. Not just on the mountaintop, in the glory, away from the troubles of the world. No, Jesus’ good is bigger than that. Much bigger. So it is good, Peter, to go down. It is good, Peter, to be in the valleys with Jesus. It is good, Peter, to be with the sick and lame and leprous and disgusting with Jesus. It is good, Peter, to be even where it didn’t seem very good at all - at the cross, watching his friend, his Lord, suffer cruelly and die. It is good for Peter to see the empty tomb and then see the risen Jesus later that night. It is good for Peter to be questioned by Jesus and be forgiven. It is good for Peter to be martyred so he, too, enter into the Promised Land.


It is good. All good. Where Jesus is.


So while the cloud went away, Moses and Elijah went away, the voice went away, and all hopes of staying there apart from the hustle and bustle, the sin and sadness, and the troubles and trials of the world went away - good did not go away, but went with them. The good one.


And He goes with you


For just as Jesus left the glory of the transfiguration to go to the cross, so He does not now stay in heaven, in glory, at the Father’s right hand - but is here with us to give us His cross. And the forgiveness, life, and salvation He won through that cross. Right in the midst of the hustle and bustle, the sin and sadness, the troubles and trials of this world. That there be good not just out there, someplace, far away, in heaven, in a Promised Land, but here. For it is good wherever Jesus is.


If we don’t know that or realize that, it is because, like Peter, we are clinging to what our eyes see rather than what our ears hear. We are trying to realize our own kingdom and build our own houses of goodness. But not just us. So it has been ever since the beginning. Building our own houses and striving for our own glory, as the writer of Hebrews again said. 


Think about it . . .


Adam and Eve tried to build up themselves and their own house and kingdom and just wound up tearing down this good and perfect world. Abraham tried to build his own house, not waiting for God to give him a son but taking matters into his own hands, and just wound up bringing strife into his house instead when God actually kept His Word and gave him a son. Jacob tried to build his own house, taking advantage of his brother and tricking his father, and for that got 20 years in exile and fear. David wanted to build a house for God, but God said no - I don’t need a house from you, I will build one for you. 


But that’s what we do - try to build our own houses, our own churches, our own kingdoms. But either we fail and just make things worse, or we succeed only for a short time before our houses or kingdoms fall. So we should really stop it, and repent of that. For there’s only one who can build a good house, a good kingdom, one that lasts forever. And that’s what we’re entering the season of Lent to see once again. Jesus building our house. Jesus bringing us into His kingdom, our Promised Land, through His cross.


But that, how He did it . . . didn’t look good at all. The world tears Him down, but in that tearing down He builds. The stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone (Psalm 118:22). The world shames Him by hanging Him on a cross, and yet that shame is His glory, showing His love for you, that He would do that for you. The world kills Him, yet in that death comes life. His condemnation becomes our forgiveness. Jesus builds in ways we think couldn’t possibly be, couldn’t possibly be good, so opposite and opposed to what we think we want, what we think we need, the way we think things should be. 


And maybe like Moses, at the end of our life we’ll look back, and maybe we’ll see how we’ve fallen short of our goals, our hopes, our dreams, our plans. Looking out over what could have been, if only . . . And then we’ll die. But unlike with Moses, people will mark our graves, maybe even visit them for a time. But then a generation or two will pass by and we’ll be forgotten. 


But where Moses was buried or where we are buried really doesn’t matter. Those places are only temporary. What matters is the place where the one greater than Moses was buried but is no longer. The tomb that is empty because it couldn’t hold its prey. The only tomb that is glorious because it was left behind in resurrection. That’s the grave that matters. The grave that did not see 30 days of mourning, as the people of Israel did with Moses - but a mere three days. When the one who died not with his eye undimmed and his vigor unabated, but whipped and bloodied and beaten to a pulp rose to life again. To a life that cannot end. The life He now has and gives to you.


So that when we wake up after falling asleep in death, we’ll wake up like Moses and find that where we failed and in all the ways we failed, Jesus did not. We hear that now, listening to Him as He speaks words of life and forgiveness to us here, and we believe that now, by the faith given us through His words, but then we will see it. For we’ll be in the Promised Land, the kingdom of God. All that we build, nothing, gone, forgotten. All that He builds, glorious and eternal. And we’ll say, Lord, it is good to be here. And it will be. And we’ll never have to leave.


In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


Sunday, February 20, 2022

Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Epiphany

LISTEN


Jesu Juva


“Where Did That Come From!?”

Text: Genesis 45:3-15; Luke 6:27-38; 1 Corinthians 15:21-26, 30-42


Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.


Love your enemies. 

Do good to those who hate you. 

Bless those who curse you. 

Pray for those who abuse you. 

To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, 

and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either. 

Give to everyone who begs from you, 

and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. 

And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.


All those words are true of Joseph. His brothers hated him. All eleven of them. They didn’t just curse him, they wished him dead. And they didn’t just wish him dead, they actually began plotting how they might do that. They didn’t, though. Choosing instead to take his cloak, the one of many colors, and sell him instead. To be a slave in a foreign country for the rest of his miserable little life. He worked as a slave, then as a trusted servant, but that was soon taken away from him and he was thrown into prison for a crime he did not commit. Back to square one. There he was forgotten by those he helped, forsaken by those he thought his friends. If you tallied up all the good days and all the bad days in his life, I’m not sure which would have been more . . . though on that seesaw, I’m sure the bad ones seemed more frequent and more severe.


But then one day he is raised up and put in charge of all the food in Egypt. And suddenly, those who hated him, who cursed him, who abused him, who struck him, stole from him, wished him dead, and sold him, were there before him. And not just before him, but on their knees, begging from him. How the tables had turned! You know what Joseph did, how he responded to this. You heard it again today in the reading from Genesis. 


Joseph loved his brothers. They weren’t his enemies, even though they treated him as their enemy. He did good to them who hated him. He blessed those who had cursed him in word and deed. To those who had taken his cloak, he clothed them and fed them and provided for them. Far more than they had taken from him. And he demanded nothing for all this. What he had wished they would have done for him all those years ago, he did to them now. The mercy he wished for is the mercy he gave.


Time heals all wounds, some would say. But God heals all wounds, Joseph would say. The Word of God that had been with Joseph and working in Joseph all those years. The Word of God that had sustained Joseph all those years, in all the struggles, the ups and downs, the good days and the bad days.


Could you be like that? Like Joseph? Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe sometimes you are, sometimes you’re not. Many people, maybe you, often say or think: I could never forgive THAT. I could never love HIM. I could never do good to HER. The hurt too bad, the wounds too deep, the betrayal too profound. The mercy I wished for but didn’t get . . . how can I now give it? 


Perhaps Joseph had days like that, too. And so perhaps he was even more surprised than his brothers when he saw them again and didn’t hate them or want to get revenge on them, but loved them. Where did that come from!? 


You know. For just as those words are true of Joseph for his brothers, even more are they true of Jesus for you and me. His forgiveness, His mercy, His love, His good given to you and me. 


For when you look at your life, who are you more like: Joseph? Or his brothers? I know what the answer, sadly, is for me. How much I need forgiveness for those I’ve mistreated. How much mercy I need for those careless and reckless things I’ve done. How much love I haven’t shown. And yet . . . and yet I also know how generous people are with their forgiveness and love and mercy for me! All of you. My family. Other pastors. Friends. Where did that come from!? I know, though. How Jesus is caring for me through you and them. 


So when Jesus tells us to do those things we heard today, when He tells us to be merciful, even as your Father is merciful - that’s not just command, it’s also a promise. The mercy you need, you get, so that they mercy others need, they get. From you. Or I should say, from God through you. For Jesus never tells us to do something without working it in us, first giving us what we need. 


So we are the brothers who come not to the one who is Pharaoh’s right hand man, but to the one who is at God the Father’s right hand; we come to our brother Jesus here each week, desperate. In need. Ashamed. Knowing that we deserve nothing. And we are washed and cleansed and blessed and fed. And we don’t have to wonder where that came from - we know. From the cross. Where Jesus poured out His life for our life, His blood for our forgiveness, His mercy for our need. And for that He was cast into the ground, into the tomb. 


Joseph had been cast into a pit in the ground, which might as well have been a tomb. His brothers had wanted it to be. And then he was also cast into the pit of prison, which might as well have been a tomb, as he was forgotten and abandoned. But God raised up Joseph, just as He would raise up Jesus, so that He raise you, too. To new life. A life not like the one which got you there, or like the ones who put you there, but like Jesus’ life. A life of forgiveness, mercy, love, and care. God giving those things to others through you. 


And maybe you’ll be surprised . . . and not just at the forgiveness, love, mercy, and care you receive, but that you now give. When you thought: I could never forgive THAT. I could never love HIM. I could never do good to HER. The hurt too bad, the wounds too deep, the betrayal too profound. But you do. Where did that come from!? You know. It comes from the one who washed you in His water. It comes from the one who forgives your sins against Him. It comes from the one who has mercy on you. It comes from the one who feeds you with His own Body and Blood. All those things the fruits of His cross. All those gifts giving you the new life you need. His life. That you live a new life. Not a sinless life. But a repenting life, a forgiving life.


For as St. Paul said, as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive. And we really did. Die. The life we had, that God created for us and created us for, we no longer have. We live in a world of sin and death. Of hate and cursing. Of selfishness and abuse. And born in sin, sin lives in us and we die in sin. But this, too: in Christ, we are made alive. And that’s not just a promise for the Last Day, but for THIS day. In baptism, Jesus takes us into His death and raises us to His life. So all that we need, we have. And when we need more, He gives more. For His mercy, love, and forgiveness is in good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, and put into your lap. Into you. And we now give it to others. 


And when they are amazed, when they wonder: where did that come from!? You can tell them. You can tell them of a man named Joseph. You can tell them of a Saviour named Jesus. You can tell them of His forgiveness given to you, that is also for them. You can tell them you have often wondered the same thing. And while not perfect, we have a perfect God. Perfectly loving. Perfectly merciful. Perfectly forgiving. So we can be the same. Sons of God in the Son of God. 


In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


Sunday, February 13, 2022

Sermon for the Sixth Sunday after Epiphany

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Jesu Juva


“Life in Two Kingdoms”

Text: Jeremiah 17:5-8; Luke 6:17-26; 1 Corinthians 15:1-20


Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.


The Christian lives in two kingdoms. Two kingdoms that do not think alike, do not act alike. The kingdom of the world and the kingdom of God. One kingdom that will not last and one that will last forever. One that we know by experience and one that we know only by faith. Two kingdoms with often conflicting values and goals. And as we heard today, two kingdoms with very different ideas of what it means to be blessed. So to live in both is not an easy thing. 


Yet live in both every Christian does. But it is perilous. We are to live in the world and not separate ourselves from the world, but also not let the world so influence us that we become like the world. We are to see and use and enjoy the things of this world as good gifts from God, while at the same time not becoming too attached to them, not living for them, not relying on them. Whether they be people or things or accomplishments. Which, as you know, is not an easy thing.


If that happens, if the thinking of the world so infiltrates us that it changes our thinking and values and ways, then woe to us! And not just woe, but cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the Lord, Jeremiah said. But how easy it is to do this. We are bombarded with the words and wisdom of men every day. We are seduced by the things of this world and its promises. And our minds and hearts are influenced. Little by little. We may not even realize it. Until we hear a Word of God and turn away from it. Or doubt it. Or think God can’t . . . or won’t . . . Adam and Eve found out the hard way. And we’ve been living in their world ever since.


But the word of man . . . who knows? Promises are made but never kept. Things are believed - even for a very long time - that later turn out to be wrong. Sometimes it is on purpose, to deceive and get for oneself, but sometimes they are honest mistakes, until more data is received and so the “truth” changes. No matter the motive, if you trust in man and make the things of man your strength, you are hitching your horse to a very uncertain wagon.


And one that cannot last. For even the brightest and rightest minds this world has ever seen or known stop, go out, and are buried under six feet of dirt. And then what? They can no longer help this world. They may even later be re-interpreted and deemed an enemy, when the thinking of the world changes and goes against them. Here today, gone tomorrow. Honored one day, vilified the next.


And it’s not just the word of man but the things of man, too . . . who knows? Everything wears out. Things come and go. What pleases us one day doesn’t the next. What we think so important one day seems so trivial the next.


Off balance. Maybe that’s a good way to describe it. Unsure. Unsteady. Confused. That’s what satan wants. For you to wonder: What is true, what is not? What should I believe? How shall I live? Who should I be? What should I want? What’s going to happen to me when I die? Because you will. Die. Sooner or later. One way or another. 


Satan promised Adam and Eve the world and gave them hell. He promised them knowledge and gave them confusion. He promised them life and gave them death. And we’ve been living in their world ever since. 


But there’s another way . . .


Yes, cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the Lord . . . but then Jeremiah also said Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord.


But that’s Adam and Eve’s world, too! For into the world they caused to be cursed and plunged into hell, confusion, and death, came a different word . . . a word of truth, a word of hope, a word of forgiveness, a word of resurrection, a Word of God. That God would not let them or this world go to hell in a handbasket, but would come and save it. He would come and save them. And believing that Word they were blessed, even living in the midst of the mess they made. In good and joyful days, like when their children were born; and in bad and sorrowful days, like when one son killed the other. 


They were living in two kingdoms - one of their own making, and one of God’s now re-making. One of experience, and one of faith. 


And when that Word of God became the Word made flesh, when that Word of God was fulfilled in the sending of His Son into the world, when that Word of God began His working in the world to renew and restore it . . . that’s what the people in Jesus’ day saw and experienced. People were healed of their diseases. Those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. Power was going out from Him. Power that changed things. Power that changed life. Power over the sin, death, and hell in this world. Establishing a new kingdom. 


A new kingdom very unlike this old kingdom. For Jesus was not interested in replacing one earthly kingdom with another, or in making new and miraculously healthy people to live in an old kingdom that is passing away. Those were signs - signs of what this coming kingdom would be like. And signs of what it would take to get there - no less than a new creation; a resurrection from the sin and death of this world.


So that’s what Jesus did. Coming into a world of sin, death, and hell, He took our sin, died our death, bloodied and beaten by the world, and then descended into hell to overthrow it and establish a new kingdom with a new king. A kingdom of truth. A kingdom of certainty. A kingdom with a firm foundation - namely, His empty tomb. His empty tomb which testifies that what He speaks and promises is truth, that His life is real and eternal, and that what you need He can provide. 


That’s what the apostle Paul pointed to today, and said that if Christ has not been raised, if His tomb is full, not empty, then we have nothing. Then we should be off balance, unsure, unsteady, and confused. Then there is nothing you can count on - just hope for the best.


But if Jesus did, in fact, rise from the dead, if his tomb is empty, that changes everything. And, Paul said, he could produce some 500 witnesses who could testify to the fact not only that the tomb was empty but that Jesus was alive - a number that would make any lawyer envious, and so make every person rejoice. That in this world that satan has invaded and planted his flag and set-up his kingdom of confusion and untruth, there is one who has invaded his kingdom and given us a firm truth and place to stand. On Him. The one who speaks and it is so. The one who died and rose again. The one we can rely on, in a world where there isn’t much you can rely on.


That when life knocks you off balance, there is one here to steady you. When you’re not sure of the truth, there is one here who speaks the truth. When you find yourself following the world, there is one here to forgive you. And when you die, there is one here to raise you to life. 


And so blessed are you. Truly. Not when everything is going your way, but even when it’s not. When you’re poor and hungry and mourning and hated, because there is one here to provide for you. Not just to make life in this old kingdom good, but to give you life in His new and everlasting kingdom. For a good life in a kingdom that is passing away is like having gold on the Titanic. A ship, by the way, all the wisdom of the world said and promised was unsinkable . . . til it wasn’t. So much for that word and promise. Woe to you, Jesus says, if that’s what you’re counting on and trusting.


But blessed are you when you are baptized into Jesus and His death and resurrection, for you have a life that not even death can end. And blessed are you when your sins are forgiven, for you have a life that Jesus heals from the disease of sin. And blessed are you when you eat and drink the Body and Blood of Jesus, for you have a life fed and strengthened by the one who has all power and authority. 


You see, that’s the thing about living in two kingdoms, and two kingdoms that are so different - you can be cursed in one and blessed in the other. The question is: which is better? Which are you going to believe? Which will you live for? Which would you die for? It’s not easy. Life in two kingdoms never is. But blessed in the man who trusts in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. Whose trust is in the one who looked anything but blessed! The beaten, bloodied, crucified one. But also the resurrection one. For that means when the world beats, bloodies, and crucifies you - and it will - you are not alone. And the Jesus who went through all that for you, will go through all that with you, and bring you with Him to life again. That in all places, times, circumstances, joys, sorrows, troubles, ease, or whatever else comes your way, you are blessed. For you are in the blessed one. For your life now, and for your life forever.


In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.


Sunday, February 6, 2022

Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after Epiphany

LISTEN


Jesu Juva


“Re-defined Lives”

Text: Luke 5:1-11


Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.


Jesus leaves no doubt as to who is responsible for this catch of fish. 


The Simon Peter, James and John Fishing Company had been out all night, with all their wisdom and skill, going to all the right places, using all the best techniques, and had caught . . . nothing. They were probably tired and grumpy and so after washing and mending their nets, just wanted to go home and finally catch something: some shut eye.


But no, not yet. They are delayed. First, Jesus using Simon Peter’s boat as a pulpit for a while, and then He wants to try His hand at fishing. "Guys, let's try again,” Jesus says. “Let's try in the deep water." Now, professionals just love it when amateurs tell them how to do their jobs. Peter, James, and John probably all looked at each other in disbelief. Is He serious? It's the wrong depth of water for fishing. It's the wrong time of day for fishing. We're not going to catch anything! But since it’s Jesus asking . . . Jesus, who not too long ago had healed Peter's mother-in-law from a fever, and was gaining quite a reputation around those parts. If it had been anybody else . . . But alright.


So off they go. When they get to the deep water, they lets down the nets, probably wondering how long this is going to take, how long Jesus is going to make them sit out there . . . when they actually begin catching fish! And not just a few fish, an abundance of fish! Not one boatload of fish, but more than two boatloads of fish! So many fish they don't have room for them all. And there is no doubt who is responsible. And it’s not because Jesus knew better fishing techniques. And it’s not because Jesus just knew where the fish were. It is because this man Jesus is the Almighty God. The God who made these fish, and the God who can order these fish to swim into a net.


And so this miraculous catch of fish leaves no doubt as to who Jesus is. 


Peter knows. He is face to face with his Maker. He no longer calls Jesus simply "master," now He is the Lord. But Peter is not yet ready to meet his Maker, and so he falls at Jesus' knees and begs Him to leave. "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord." Give Peter credit – at least he got that part right.


But if Peter wasn't ready to meet his Maker, his Maker was ready for him. This miraculous catch of fish was no accident, no payment to Peter for the use of his boat as a pulpit, no simple helping out of some fishermen who had some bad luck. Unlikely as it may seem, Jesus had chosen these men to be His disciples, His followers. To teach them and train them to be His apostles, His sent ones. To send them into the world after His death, resurrection, and ascension, to be His representatives, to give His forgiveness and faith and to establish and build His Church. These men! These men? These men. And so when Peter falls at Jesus' knees, confessing his sin, Jesus speaks words of grace and forgiveness: Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men. And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed him.”


And with these words, Jesus shows us that the most miraculous catch that day wasn't the fish! And what started off as just another day, with the same old routine, and the same old work, turned out quite differently.


But that's how it is with God. You're probably not so different than Peter, James, and John. Each day you wake up and have a routine. Off to work, off to school. Take care of the house, take care of the family. Meet with friends, meet with co-workers. Take care of things. Perhaps some days it feels as if you got nothing accomplished, or if what you did that day didn't matter to anyone at all. Maybe the same old routine is growing old, and beginning to feel like a rat race. Peter, James, and John had been up fishing all night and caught nothing. It probably wasn't the first time.


And it can seem that way in the Church as well. Each week we come and go through the liturgy. You listen to the sermon, you go to Bible class. It can seem rather routine. Maybe you feel stagnant in your faith. As a church we try to reach out into the community, do acts of mercy, help others. But perhaps it feels as if we are getting nothing accomplished. Why are we doing so much fishing and catching nothing?


How do we make sense of all this? We do so by remembering who is responsible for the catch of fish. For on the one hand, Christ commands us to work, but on the other hand He shows us that our work – on our own – accomplishes nothing. Our lives, our hands, are empty without the grace and presence of God.


Now, the world tells us otherwise. The world would have us believe that if you work hard you will be successful. That if you make better choices you will have a better life. That if you do the right things, the right things will happen to you. But is that really so? There are some very good parents whose children have gotten mixed up in drugs, or cults, or rebellion. There are some very hard working people who get laid off every year. There are people at the top of their professions who feel empty. There are people who take very good care of their bodies who get terrible diseases. There are retirees who feel useless and unappreciated. Many people are wondering: what am I accomplishing? Where will it end? Does it matter? Or are we simply going to realize after toiling all our lives that we have come back empty-handed?


But Christ tells us to go back out. Perhaps, like Peter, James, and John, we are tired. Perhaps we are skeptical. Perhaps we really want to catch some shut eye instead. Perhaps we wonder why. But whose catch is it anyway? 


So off we go, in the vocations that God has given us. And they're not all the same. We’re not all fishermen, we're not all pastors. We're fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, workers, students, bosses, grandparents, friends, neighbors – and off we go. But as Christians we go differently. We do not go as we went before, as the rest of the world, but as those who have been caught by Christ; who have been caught in the net of His Gospel of forgiveness; who have heard His Word of grace and forgiveness and been Baptized and have feasted at His Table. And so we go differently because we are different. We go no longer on our own, depending on our works and accomplishments, our techniques and wisdom, our skill and strength – no, we go in faith, knowing that if anything is going to be accomplished through us, it is going to be done by Christ. By Christ living in us. By the One who commands fish to swim into a net.


And so as Christ re-defined what it meant for Peter, James, and John to be fishermen, so He does the same for us in our lives, in our vocations. And we see things differently. 


There’s a catchy phrase that perhaps you’ve heard, which says: "If it's going to be, it's up to me." I think Peter, James, and John would disagree. If it's going to be, it's up to Christ. If it's up to you and me, we look around and see what we're able to do, and what we've done, and what we've failed to do, what we thought was great that turned out not so great, that was great one day but not the next, that we thought would last, but didn’t, and all we can do is fall at Jesus' knees like Peter and admit our failure. All we can do is fall at Jesus' feet and die, because that's all we're good for anyway. Maybe it would actually be an improvement. But Jesus didn't leave Peter there, He didn’t leave Isaiah there, and He doesn't leave us there either. No, for in our sin, in our failure, in our death, those comforting words spoken to Peter are also spoken to us: "Do not be afraid." You are not condemned. Your sin is atoned for. You are forgiven. For as Jesus joined us in our sin and death, so He joins us to Himself in His resurrection to live a new life.


And thus raised and re-born, from now on we see our vocations and lives in a new light. Re-defined. Just as He re-defined water to be a washing away of sin, and words to be an Absolution, and bread and wine to be His Body and Blood, so, too, now we who partake of these gifts. New lives with new sight. And so we're fathers and mothers raising not just our children, but His children. We’re workers not just working for ourselves, to make money, but providing daily bread for others. We’re friends and neighbors through whom God is taking care of others. And in the church, we reach out and have mercy not to be big and successful but to let down the net of God’s Word and forgiveness. But we cannot command the fish to swim into it – only Christ can do that. On our own, we can accomplish nothing. Only Christ can build His Church and His Kingdom.


So we go back out. Each day, each week, each year. At His Word. Sometimes that’s tough. But as you go, know that the work and results are His, that your life is anything but routine, anything but meaningless, and anything but accomplishing nothing. The Word of God is accomplishing in you and through you exactly what Christ wills. We may not always be able to see it, or understand it, but that's where faith comes in. That’s where the cross comes in. That even in the face of sin and death, of seeming hardship and failure, to trust that when the net is pulled up, there will be fish. And not just a few, but an abundance! And when the grave is opened, there will be life.And not just a little, but abundant and eternal. 


And it is all by grace. Christ doing His work.


In the Name of the Father, and of the (+) Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.