Sermon on Eve of National Thanksgiving

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“Prayers of and for Thanksgiving”

Text: 1 Timothy 2:1-4; Luke 17:11-19; Deuteronomy 8:1-10

 

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

What compelled Paul to write what he did to Timothy? We heard a few verses from that letter tonight. But why did he write what he did? Surely there is a myriad of things he could have written; a myriad of things Timothy needed to do to care for his flock. But he says first of all, first of all pray. Pray for all people, and especially kings and people in high positions; people of prominence and authority. 

Good advice, certainly. But there’s more to it, I think. Namely, that for Paul, it was thanksgiving. Not the holiday, of course. That wouldn’t happen for another 1600 or 1800 years, with the pilgrim’s feast and the declaration of Abraham Lincoln. So to get to Paul’s thanksgiving, we have to follow the little word “then.” Which could also be translated therefore. First of all, then, therefore, I urge you, Timothy, to pray. With that word Paul is referring to what he had written just before this, as the basis for this instruction. So what had Paul written?

Well, he had just written about himself and his former way of life. So when he tells Timothy to pray for all people, especially those in authority, maybe he was thinking about himself. For in his former life, Paul had authority from the Jewish leaders to arrest and imprison Christians, and he was highly successful. He was ravaging the church (Acts 8:3). And while he was doing this and ascending in prominence, he was also descending closer and closer to hell. 

But he was rescued. And maybe, maybe he would find out later, because those he was persecuting were praying for him. Jesus had told them to love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you (Matthew 5:44). And number one on that list of persecutors would have been Paul. But look at him now! Rescued from the threatening perils of his sins, and filled with thanksgiving. Himself living proof that, as we heard tonight, God wants all people to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.

And if God could save him, there is hope for all people. Caesar? Yes. Annas and Caiaphas? Yes. Pontius Pilate? Yes. King Herod? Yes. Pray for them all, he says. For as his fellow apostle James had written, the prayer of a righteous person has great power (James 5:16).

But also, Paul says, when praying for them, not only pray for their conversion or that their evil ways could come to nothing, but pray with thanksgiving for all these people. To which we say: whaaaaat? How can that possibly be? 

Well it can only be if prayer is not a matter of understanding but of faith. That we pray not because we understand all God is doing and how things will work out, but because we believe they will. Because we believe we have a heavenly Father who is working all things for our good (Romans 8:28). And isn’t this a problem all children often? They don’t understand their parents or what they do or why they do it. Why do I have to eat my yucky vegetables? Why do I have to go to bed at this time? Why can’t I do what everyone else is doing? And maybe they think their parents are being mean or unfair. But later, they may understand. And get it. 

So for us, as we gather on this Thanksgiving, we give thanks not because we know all the blessings God has bestowed on us or because we know all that He is doing in our lives and are thankful for it. We give thanks because as children of God, we trust that our Father is working all things for our good. That He is our Father - not because of anything we have done, but because of everything HE has done, and especially in sending His Son to save us. That He is a God and Father who can bring great good out of even the most trying and difficult and unlikely of circumstances . . . like a cross. Or 40 years in the wilderness. Or leprosy. In all these things He was working salvation, whether they knew it or not.

For if you had told that leper, while he was still a leper, to count his blessings, leprosy would not have been one of them. If you told Israel to count their blessings in year 23 of their time in the wilderness, the wilderness would not have been on their list. If you told the apostles to count their blessings while witnessing Jesus betrayed, arrested, whipped, and then bleeding and dying on a cross, that would not have even remotely entered their mind! And yet . . . what a blessing all those things turned out to be. That one leper not only healed of his disease but of his sin. Israel forced to rely on God and grow in faith and witness His faithfulness and goodness and long-suffering with them. And learning that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord. And, of course, without the cross, no resurrection, no forgiveness, no life without end.

Those were the blessings Paul was on the road to missing. Was the church praying for him? I believe so. Confused as they might have been as to why God was allowing this and this man to be! But God worked wonders through Paul, because of his past! 

So, Paul goes on to say, pray in this way, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. That is, holy and worthy of respect. Because you can live your life in a frenzy and worried and anxious about what we see happening in the world and in our lives. But that does not lead to a peaceful and quiet life. That is not the life of faith. Instead, Paul says, pray. And that’s not down the list of things to do! First of all, he says, first of all, pray. For this benefits those you pray for, and you. As you entrust all things to the care of your heavenly Father. As you remember He is in control, not you. As you trust that He will work everything out for your good, whether you see it or not, or understand it or not. And from that faith comes not only a peaceful and quiet life - even in the midst of a not-very-peaceful and not-very-quiet world! - but from such faith comes also thanksgiving. 

So we’ll do that tonight. We’ll get a jump on the holiday and start tonight. For as we’ll hear again, it is truly meet, right, and salutary that we should at all times and in all places give thanks to you, holy Lord, almighty Father everlasting God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. 

Through Jesus Christ, in whom we are children of God through baptism. 

Through Jesus Christ, in whom we are forgiven and healed from the leprosy of our sin.

Through Jesus Christ, who feeds us with the food and drink we need in the wilderness of this world, His true Body and Blood.

Because like Paul, we were also lost and on the road to hell. But someone prayed for us. And not just someone, but Jesus Himself. And then He provided all we need for life now and life forever. 

And so while we have a Day of National Thanksgiving, which is good, in the Church, every Sunday is Thanksgiving. For every Sunday we gather at the family table to pray and be fed and give thanks. First of all. On the first day of the week. As the first thing in the day. That we lead a peaceful and quiet life. With the peace of God which passes all understanding, and hearts quieted with God’s love and forgiveness. Thats the life God has for you in Christ Jesus.And to that, what more can we say, but Thanks be to God!

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

Sermon for the Last Sunday of the Church Year

We were privileged to have one of our adopted Seminary students Caleb Hoverson  as our guest preacher today. So no text to post this week. Click here to watch Seminarist Hoverson's sermon on the livestream on our YouTube channel.

Sermon for the Twenty-sixth Sunday after Pentecost

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Jesu Juva

“Endure to the End? Me?”

Text: Mark 13:1-13; Daniel 12:1-3; Hebrews 10:11-25

 

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

It was probably like a punch in the gut. Their hearts started beating faster, and all the blood drained from their now ashy faces. Their breathing was shallow, their knees weak. Tell us, they said. Tell us when these things will be. Namely, the Temple destroyed. And not just destroyed, but to this extent - not one stone upon another. Really Jesus? Is it true?

They should have known this was true. Remember Peter? Your confession of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God is the stone on which Jesus was going to build His Church (Matthew 16:18). Not these stones. Lifeless stones. And remember what Jesus said just a few days before this, that the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone (Mark 12:10)? Which was a prophecy of Him? Or when He said destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up (John 2:19), talking about Himself as the new Temple, a living Temple, one not made with hands or out of stones?

But they didn’t remember. Just as we often don’t remember. When bad news overwhelms us. When world events shock us. When personal tragedy or hardship or life sends us reeling. We become frightened disciples.

So they want to know more. We want to know more. Tell us more, they ask Jesus. And Jesus does. But I think it fair to say: it’s not what they want to hear! It will be as we heard from Daniel today: a time of trouble, such as never has been since there was a nation till that time.

First, Jesus says, there will be trouble in the church - false teaching and false messiahs. Which is troubling. Troubling to think that some people will be led astray from the church by those within the church, but who have really left the true church. We see this happening. False teaching, unscriptural teaching, because the Scriptures are no longer considered the Word of God - unseated by culture, so-called science, or just our own truth. And those who claim they can save the church with their methods and schemes, while pointing us away from the words and sacraments of Jesus. There will be trouble in the church.

There will be trouble - not peace - in the world - wars, violence, nation rising against nation and kingdom against kingdom. We see this, too, of course. Devastation, blood, havoc. Son and daughters sent into harms way. Hostages and innocent bystanders caught in the crossfire. Sometimes the cause is good and just. Sometimes it’s just from greed and hate. And the aftermath - long lives of suffering, sadness, and pain. Trouble in the world.

And then there is also trouble in creation - earthquakes and famines, just to name two. We could add to that list: hurricanes, tornadoes, tsunamis, floods. Birth pains, Jesus calls them. The travail, as God told Eve in the beginning, caused by sin. 

And as if that all weren’t enough, this too: trouble in the family. And this maybe the most heartbreaking of all. Brother against brother, fathers not being fathers, children rebelling and rising against parents. The very ones we should be able to rely on in the midst of all this other trouble and danger . . . This, too, you’ve seen. Maybe even had it happen to you. And maybe you’ve heard it encouraged lately - not to celebrate the holidays with your family if they voted the wrong way. Trouble in our own homes.

These are the signs, Jesus says. Which may not be good news, but good to know. That we not just see them and what is happening in the world and in our lives physically and outwardly, but see and know them in their proper spiritual perspective. To see and know, that when you add all this up and it seems like all hell is breaking loose, that’s exactly what is happening. For with Jesus’ death and resurrection comes His heel upon the serpent’s head, and with that the thrashing around, the convulsing, the violent twisting and turning of the serpent’s body. Satan’s death throes. Satan raging again God’s three estates: church, world, and home, to take them down with him. To destroy them all. To curl his tail around them and take them down into the abyss with him. Them, and with them, you.

But, Jesus says, the one who endures to the end will be saved.

Which . . . I guess is good news. Some will be saved . . . But what about me? Is this all you got for me this morning, Jesus? After all that talk of trouble, the message is just hunker down, duck and cover, stick it out, become a prepper, and if you can make it through, endure, you’ll be saved? That’s not much encouragement, really, especially when you consider who He was talking to . . . who couldn’t do it. Peter, who would shortly deny Him. James and Andrew, who ran for it. John, who just stood by and watched it all. And all four who hid behind locked doors, trembling in their sandals. The one who endures to the end . . . ? So, to repeat a question we heard these same disciples ask just a few weeks ago, and maybe that was arising in your own minds: Then who can be saved?

Well, let’s think about that . . . Not Adam and Eve. They couldn’t endure. They fell. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob couldn’t do it. Moses couldn’t do it. David and Solomon couldn’t do it. Those twelve couldn’t do it. Can we . . . endure to the end?

But there is one who did. The only who could. Jesus, of course. He was the one who endured the full rage and fury of the evil one. The religious authorities against Him, the civil authorities against Him, His own family not believing in Him, and yet faithful and steadfast to the end. Even to death. Even when faced with the cross. And He was saved, resurrected, and is now seated at the right hand of God. 

And as the one who did what we could never do, as we heard in the reading from Hebrews, He opened for us a new and living way to God. That offering Himself as that single sacrifice for the sin of the world, we now have hope. Only one could endure to the end, but He endured for us all. That in Him, we endure to the end as well. It’s the only way we can. 

That’s why Baptism, where in that water purified by Jesus’ blood we are baptized into Christ, the one who endured. That’s why Absolution, where repenting of how we’ve not remained faithful and steadfast we cannonball back into the waters of Baptism, back into Jesus and the forgiveness of the one who endured. That’s why the Gospel, where we hear of the One who endured to the end for us and He scoops us back into His arms of forgiveness and love, to endure. And that why the Supper, where we confess our hope, that here is our hope, our only hope, as the fruits of the cross are fed to us, the Body and Blood of Jesus given to us, that we live in the One who endured to the end for us, and the One who endured to the end live in us. That with all these we make it to the end. Not because of my strength, my ability, my faithfulness, or anything in me - cuz I got nothing! But all because of Jesus. For He who promised is faithful. Even when it meant going to the cross. 

But there’s another reason for all this, all these troubles, as well. All the troubles - in church, in the world, in our homes - aren’t just the death throes of an agonized and hate-filled satanic foe. In that case, why not just slay him and get it over with? But God is able to all these things for His good, so that we rely on Him and not on ourselves, but also for the proclamation of the Gospel. 

We talked about this Wednesday night in our Bible Study. After the martyrdom of Stephen, Saul began to ravage and rage against the church. But the more he did so, the more it grew! His persecution caused the people to leave Jerusalem and scatter, and when they did, they took the Gospel with them. They told others the reason why they were fleeing, they told them about Jesus and they hope we have in Him, and the living and active Word of God worked in the hearts of those who heard. You would think persecution would shrink the church, but it did just the opposite.

That’s why in the midst of these words of Jesus about all this trouble, He also talks about the Gospel being proclaimed to all nations, and the Holy Spirit giving them what to say when they stand before governors and kings. You see, the troubles in the church, the world, and our homes give us the opportunity to confess our faith, in words and deeds. To repent - not just to God, but to one another - and to forgive those who sin against us. To stir one another up to love and good works, to encourage one another, and to not neglect meeting together here in the Divine Service, where Jesus comes to be with us and serve us. For if we are to endure this world and its troubles, it is only in Jesus. 

So be on your guard, Jesus says. Because there is no escape. In this world you will have trouble. If you don’t think so or don’t now, you are either deceiving yourself or . . . just wait! You will. And when you do, what will you do? Some medicate - legally or illegally. Some plunge deeper into their sin. Some commit suicide or helps others to do so. Some think they can save themselves living their own truth, or looking to the government to save them. 

But every stone in this world will topple, except one. Every Temple in this world will be destroyed, except one. And if you rely on yourself and what you can do, you too will be toppled. There is only one way - not to escape - but to endure to the end. You’ve heard the signs, you’ve seen the signs, and you’ve heard the truth. So walk out that door and rely on yourself, or come to the Table that is set before you in the presence of your enemies (Psalm 23:5). Jesus’ Table. Come with your sins and failures, your denying, running away, and your doing nothing. Come with your doubts and fears, your weakness and brokenness, your rebellion and stubbornness. Come reeling from being thrashed by the evil one. And come for Jesus’ forgiveness, His strength, and His life. For there’s only one who endured to the end. So come to Him, for that’s how we will endure to the end - in Him - who did it all for you. 

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

Sermon for the Twenty-fifth Sunday after Pentecost

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“When Big Is Little and Little Is Big”

Text: Mark 12:38-44; Hebrews 9:24-28

 

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

When you think of role models, poor widows are not the first thing that pop into your mind. Maybe a teacher, or someone who goes out of their way to help others, or someone who leads in the face of danger. 

If you lived in Jesus’ day, the scribes would be the kind of people you looked to, along with the Pharisees. They were serious about their religion. They knew their Scriptures. They were leaders. And yet, as we heard today, Jesus says to beware of them. They are, in fact, not good role models. 

Because while they looked good, they were anything but good. Whitewashed tombs, Jesus called them (Matthew 23:37-38). Meaning that just as a tomb may appear beautiful and impressive on the outside, when you open it up it is anything but! Inside is a rotting corpse. So outwardly the scribes may look good and righteous and holy, like good role models, but inside, in their hearts, it is quite a different story. Inwardly they are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness. It was all a show. They weren’t sincere. They prayed long prayers with their lips but not their hearts. The widows they should have helped they instead devoured. 

The same could be said of the rich folks Jesus saw that day. He didn’t criticize them, but He didn’t praise them either. Like with the scribes, don’t judge by what you see, Jesus is saying. They were putting large sums in the offering box, yes. Dumping in lots and lots of coins. But only because they had lots and lots of coins. 

But hey, Jesus says, all of a sudden, look at this widow. Maybe they hadn’t even noticed her, in her plain clothes, her offering not in a large money bag but hidden in her small hand. Be like her. Because she’s the opposite of a whitewashed tomb. On the outside she doesn’t look like much, but inside! Ah, inside is the most beautiful faith! Faith that took two coins, her last two coins, all she had to live on, and gave them to God. And not because she was commanded to do so - she should have been receiving alms, not giving them! Had she not gone to the Temple that day, no one would have missed her or her offering. But it mattered to her. So she went. And she gave. And she mattered to Jesus.

As do you. No matter how rich or poor you are. No matter how much you matter to the world. That’s why Jesus gave all He had. For you. Not just giving all He had to live on, like this widow, but His very life itself. And He gave not only more than anyone else, but more than everyone else put together, and what no one else could give - a perfectly sinless life to atone for all the completely sinful lives of the world. And while just one life for the countless lives that have lived since the creation of the world may seem as small and insignificant as the offering of the widow - the two small coins that make just a penny - like the offering of the widow, that one life was more than all other offerings. For it was given in the most beautiful faith and love. With perfect faith in His Father, and with perfect love for you. And like the widow, Jesus should have been receiving offerings, not giving them - not because of His poverty, but because of His majesty and glory as the Son of God! But you mattered to Him. So He came. And He gave Himself for you.

For when our inward and our outward don’t agree. Which, at least for me, happens more than I care to admit. And this can happen in two ways: first, when my faith isn’t shown in my life; and second, when I look good on the outside but am filled with ugliness and sin on the inside. 

Maybe you, too, struggle with this. First, when I know what I should do, what my faith and God’s Word are telling me to do, and really what I want to do as a child of God . . . and yet I don’t. The inward doesn’t become outward. Instead I act selfishly; I’d rather be lazy than put myself out for others. I say words that hurt, or I don’t say words that would help - maybe because I’m scared to do so, or don’t want to get involved. I don’t pray as I should or for who I should. Have you ever done that? Told someone you’d pray for them and then forget? Instead of apologizing or repenting to someone, I put it off and hope that time will make it better. Or that they’ll just forget it. Maybe you, too? Or am I the only one? All the good things I know I should do but don’t. My inward and outward don’t agree.

But then I can also be that second way, too - when I make myself look good on the outside, but am filled with ugliness and sin on the inside. When I smile at someone while judging and criticizing them in my heart. When like the scribes I pray with my lips but not my heart. When I act one way at church or around other Christians, but at work or school or home I look completely different. Maybe you too? My inward and outward don’t agree.

What a mixed-up, jumbled up, confused, scrambled person I am! And yet Jesus, whose inward and outward perfectly agree, said: Yup. I want them. I want that pastor and all those sinners gathered at Saint Athanasius [or Hope] to be my own. I don’t want them to be spiritual widows; I want them as My Bride. So He came and laid down His life for us. Gave all He had for us. Not coins, big or small. But His blood. For without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins (Hebrews 9:22).

But with the shedding of blood - and not just any blood, but the blood of the Lamb of God - there is forgiveness. With the shedding of His blood, Jesus takes away the sin of the world. One sacrifice for all sin. One sacrifice for all time. That the blood from His one cross now fill every Font, every sermon, every absolution, every chalice, with His forgiveness. To make us right again. To fix our brokenness. That our inward and our outward agree. 

Because when the inward and outward don’t agree and we aren’t in sync, it’s no good. You can take your car to the car wash and get it all cleaned and waxed and detailed and looking great on the outside . . . but if inside the engine’s shot, what good is it? Or the opposite, too. You can have your house redone, remodeled. New paint, new floors, new furniture and appliances . . . but if you have holes in the roof or broken windows, if the outside is shot, what good is it? 

That’s what sin has done to us. We’re out of sync. And not just with ourselves, our inward and outward, but with each other, and with God.

So Jesus came and gave all He had for us. He put us back in sync with God with the forgiveness of our sins. Yes! But . . . He has also come to put us back in sync with each other. His forgiveness is what our broken homes, our out of sync marriages, our strained friendships, need. Not just to change those with disagree with, because they’re obviously stupid and wrong, right? But to change me. To fix me. That I can be at peace. And then I can spread that peace to others with my love and forgiveness. Not whether or not they deserve it; but because Jesus lives in me.

And you know, it might not seem to matter . . . the little I can do in my little life. Because there’s so much sin in our world, right? We’ve just come out of another bitter election. There are wars and crime. We have big problems in our world and society. And we need people to address these problems. Big, important people. Educated, knowledgeable people. People who can contribute great things to the world. Large bags of solutions for large problems.

And you and me? With our penny of forgiveness? What difference does it make? Really? 

But hey, Jesus says, look at Jackie! Look at Ray! Look at Liana! Look at each of you. Maybe no one else notices you, in your regular clothes, with your regular job, with your regular life, not solving world hunger or creating world peace, but feeding your family, helping the poor, forgiving those who sin against you. But Jesus does. Be like that, He says. 

And sometimes, just doing those things is giving all you have, isn’t it? It’s not easy. And maybe you don’t get the thanks you deserve, or the best seats in the synagogues, or the places of honor at feasts. But that’s not why you do it. You do it because you know who had the best seat and the place of honor in heaven, and gave it up for you. And one day - and I pray, soon! - He’s going to come and take you there to His place and give it to you. And you’re going to be like: No! I don’t deserve this seat. If I even deserve to be here at all, it’s waaaay down there! But Jesus is going to say, nope. I don’t make mistakes. This is your seat. I noticed you and your faith. This is for you.

And until that day - and I pray it is soon! - Jesus gives you a seat at His Table here. THIS is for you now. His Body and Blood. His forgiveness. His life. So we can live synced up lives; lives of peace. Peace with God and peace with one another. And while it’s just a little piece of bread, a little sip of wine . . . two little things to the eye, to our faith, nothing could be bigger. All Jesus and all His gifts. All we need to live on. 

So these last few weeks of the Church Year, as we wait for the end, for Jesus to come as He promised, as we wait to get to the end, Jesus has brought the end here. A foretaste of the feast, and the peace, to come. Until that day, take the peace and forgiveness you receive here and give it to others. They may not notice. They may not care. They may even laugh and take advantage of you. But Jesus knows, and notices. And a little forgiveness is a big offering to Him. 

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