Sermon for Holy Good Friday

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Jesu Juva

“A Hill Worthy Dying On”

Text: John 18-19; Isaiah 52:13 - 53:12

In the Name of (+) Jesus. Amen.

Is that a hill worth dying on? You’ve heard that question. You’ve asked it yourself. It means to pick your battles wisely. The cost may be too high; greater than the reward. Is that battle, that argument, that conviction worth the risk of ruining your career, your reputation, a friendship, or a relationship? 

Think about all the times you answered that question yes, and pressed on. And maybe it was worth it. Or maybe later you found it was not. You regretted that decision, and wished you had let it go.

Think about all the times you answered that question no, and didn’t fight that battle. Maybe that was wise, but maybe not. Maybe you were later filled with regret and wished you had battled.

And how do you make such decisions? Maybe it is wisdom. Or maybe it is your sinful, selfish nature asserting itself. Maybe it is pragmatism. Maybe it is pride or anger or bitterness. But maybe it is because you know the cost of not fighting is too high. That the truth, that the faith, is worth fighting for. 

Well, tonight we heard a number of people faced with that very question. And they answered it in different ways and for different reasons.

Judas decided that betraying Jesus was a hill worth dying on. And in the end, he did, at his own hand. 

Annas and Caiaphas decided that crucifying Jesus was a hill worth dying on, even to the point of denying God as their King, and pledging allegiance to Caesar. Not a good choice.

Peter . . . well Peter is a mixed bag, isn’t he? At first he decided that defending Jesus was a hill worthy dying on as he drew his sword and cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant. But then later he changed his mind, and confessing Jesus was not a hill worth dying on in the courtyard of the high priest. 

Pontius Pilate came to the conclusion that giving a just verdict on Jesus was not a hill worth dying on. He knew the truth - three times he said Jesus was not guilty. But the price for that was too high for his career. 

And then there was Jesus. What did Jesus have to gain by dying on that hill called Golgotha? Sinners. Rebellious sinners, careless sinners, deliberate sinners, neglectful sinners, prodigal, profligate sinners, God-denying sinners, God-be-damned sinners, hard-boiled sinners, uncaring sinners, murderous sinners. Sinners like we just heard in the reproaches.

So is that a hill worth dying on? For them? For us? For people like that? Sinners like us? And not just to die, but to die in that way? The most brutal, torturous way invented by man? To be lifted up on a cross to die of exposure, of suffocation? To die a long, slow, agonizing death? Is that really a hill worth dying on?

And Jesus said: YES.

Let that sink in. 

For that’s the message of this night. The unbelievable, incredible message of this night. That Jesus thought you were worth it. You were worth dying for on that hill. You were worth the pain, the mockery, the shame. Even more, you were worth being forsaken by His own Father, and having His Father pour out His just and righteous wrath against you and your sins on HIM. Which was far worse than the physical pain, mockery, and shame. 

And it wasn’t a surprise. None of it was. Jesus knew His Scriptures. He knew the prophet Isaiah. He knew all that was said there, and that it would happen to Him. That He would be stricken, smitten, and afflicted not just by Pilate, but by God. That He would be pierced for our transgressions, and crushed for our iniquities. That His Father would lay on Him the iniquity of us all. He knew it. He knew it all. And still His answer was . . .

YES.

One of our Lenten hymns, that we sang this past Sunday, puts it this way: Yes, Father, yes, most willingly I’ll bear what You command Me. . . . I’ll do what You have asked Me (LSB #438 v. 3).

YES. 

The apostle Paul would later write: For the Son of God, Jesus Christ, whom we proclaimed among you . . . was not Yes and No, but in him it is always YES. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him (2 Corinthians 1:19-20). 

YES. 

It is the Word of the Gospel.

Yes, your sins are forgiven.

Yes, you are Mine. 

Yes, I baptize you.

Yes, today you will be with Me in Paradise.

Yes, this is My Body, My Blood.

Yes, I love you.

Yes, it is finished.

Yes, you are worth dying for.

If you tell me later that you understand that, I will call you a liar. (Lovingly!) For that is love beyond our comprehension. Love not earned or deserved, but freely, graciously given. To you. The love of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Or as another one of our hymns puts it: Love to the loveless shown that they might lovely be (LSB #430 v.1).

That’s what this night is all about. 

But maybe I should change the words of that hymn I just quoted . . . just a little . . . to this: Love to the loveless shown that they might loving be. For because of the love of God for us, because Jesus said YES, Golgotha IS a hill worth dying on, FOR YOU . . . that changes you. It changes how you answer that question in your own life. Jesus enables you to answer that question differently - not because the others have changed and suddenly become worth it, but because you have changed and now see them differently. As Jesus sees them. And if HE said YES, they are worth dying for, can we give any other answer ourselves? that the love of God shown to us and then through us, change them, too. 

So we leave tonight changed. Changed by His love. Changed by His forgiveness. Changed by His death and resurrection. Changed by the gift of the Son of God, who said YES, you are worth dying for.

We sit here in darkness now, as we remember what that YES cost Him. But it is not complete darkness. For no matter how dark it gets for us, or in our world, we have always the light of Christ - His YES - to break the darkness, to give us hope. That while darkness will have its hour (Luke 22:53), and sin will have its day, the light of Christ will shine for eternity. For as the book of Revelation tell us, in heaven, there is no sun or moon, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb (Revelation 21:23). The devil tried to extinguish that light this day. He failed. He thought that doing so was a hill worth dying on! And so he will. Forever. Because Christ died on this hill, too. To defeat the devil. To crush his head. And then rise to life again. And because He did, we are forgiven. We are raised. And we will live - because of Him, and in Him, forever.

Because of this hill, called Golgotha. 

This hill worth dying on. 

For you.

Sermon for Holy Maundy Thursday

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Jesu Juva

“The End Is the Beginning”

Text: Matthew 26:17-30; Exodus 24:3-11; Hebrews 9:11-22

 

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

It was the Passover. A special night. A joyous night. This was the night they came out of Egypt. Not just their fathers. They, too, though yet unborn, came out. That’s what they said. For that’s what this meal did - they didn’t just remember the past; they were joined to it. By participating in this meal, they participated in that first passover. They became a part of it. Time and space are no obstacle for God. This is the night God brought US out of Egypt.

They would re-tell the story. The hundreds of years of slavery. The oppression. And then the mighty hand of God that brought them out. Ten plagues, each one worse than the one before. God judging the gods of Egypt and striking them down. All of them. Until one, final, decisive blow. The death of all the firstborn males in Egypt. Of man and beast. All except the ones protected by the blood. The blood of the lamb. The blood poured out and then smeared on the doorframes of their houses. God made a promise - that death would pass over the houses of all marked with the blood of the lamb. And it did! And now they would go out. Free.

And ever since that night, Israel remembered and celebrated their Passover. For over a thousand of years. On this same night, every year. It was a special night. A joyous night. 

Which is why this night was so unusual. For Jesus spoke not in joy, but of betrayal - and one of them! His friends. But then, this too: that after all this time and so many celebrations, that this would be the last time for Him. I tell you I will not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom. What they didn’t know is that this would also be the last time they would eat the passover. Because now, a new passover was taking place. A new rescue from slavery. A new deliverance from death. With a new Lamb. So this last passover was also the first. The end was the beginning. So as they ate the old for one final time, they were also eating the new for the first time. New flesh and new blood.

Maybe it even felt eerily like that first passover. Those families in Egypt, cloistered in their houses, and they with Jesus in an upper room. Romans soldiers replaced Egyptian ones, all around them. The opposition and scheming of the Jewish leaders against Jesus increasing, just as the Egyptian taskmasters were coming down on their fathers with increasing severity. This was a Passover unlike any other. More than they knew!

For then Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” The new flesh of the new Lamb.

And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant.”

Blood, not to smear on doorframes, but to drink. Blood for their bodies that housed them. Blood that would protect them from death, because this blood is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. And if the wages of sin is death (Romans 6:23), then the forgiveness of sins is life. And not just for them - for many, Jesus said. Which is a weird kind of Hebraism. For if Jesus had said all instead of many, for us, in English, that would have meant the biggest, everyone, all people. But for them, thinking like the Hebrews they were, it would simply have meant all of them gathered there, in that room. A smaller group. Only. So by saying many, Jesus is actually saying the opposite of what we think; He is saying the big word - that this blood was for more than just them, but for all people. This blood is for the forgiveness of all, from that time forth.

But there’s something else, too, in what Jesus said there . . . this is my blood of the covenant. That phrase, the blood of the covenant, had been used only one time before, and you heard it tonight: at Mount Sinai. This, too, was part of the Passover story. That after coming out of Egypt, the people arrived at Mount Sinai, the memory of all that had taken place still fresh in their minds. And God made a covenant with them. I will be your God, and you will be My people. And the people said YES! And then half the blood of the covenant was thrown on the altar, and half was thrown on the people. And then, as we heard, the covenant was sealed with a meal. Moses and Aaron, Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu, and seventy of the elders of Israel saw God, and ate and drank. 

So to use that same phrase here - the blood of the covenant - meant something. Actually it wasn’t exactly the same phrase - Jesus altered it, just a little. For He said, this is MY blood of the covenant. A new covenant. Because for this covenant, the blood of goats and bulls would not do. To purify the conscience, to purify the soul, only the blood of the Lamb of God would do. Blood not on the outside of our houses, but the inside of our bodies. 

This is MY blood, Jesus said. Poured out. In mere hours. And with that, a new exodus would take place, from a new covenant, with a new freedom. Not from slavery, but from sin and death. 

And of this covenant, you are invited to eat. You are in the many. For the blood of the Lamb has been not thrown, but poured on you in Holy Baptism, and now the flesh and blood of the Lamb is given to you here in this meal. You eat and drink with God, at His Table. At this new Passover, first celebrated that night, and ever since. 

And just as with that first Passover, you are not just remembering here an event that took place a long, long time ago, in a land far, far away. With this meal you don’t just remember the past, but are joined to it. Time and space are no obstacle to God. By participating in this Passover, you participate in Jesus’ Passover. You become a part of it. In Jesus by virtue of your Baptism, and with Jesus’ body and blood in you, you become a part of Jesus’ Passover. Passing through death to life. His victory, your victory.

And you have! You are even now living a new life. Not an Egypt life, a slavery life, a captive-to-sin life, but a life that will never end. You will die, but your life will not end. The end is the beginning. The end of this life, the beginning of the next. 

Now, the disciples struggled with this a bit. Ends and beginning are tough. They fell asleep, ran away, denied, were frightened, and hid. Maybe you, too. The Pharaohs, the Romans, the enemies of Christ are still out there. And our sinful flesh is still in here. So we struggle to live in the freedom we have. 

But as time and space are not obstacles to God, neither is your sin and death. Jesus took care of those for you in His Passover. Your sin is forgiven and your death is defeated for you have pass-overed with Him. 

We heard tonight that without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins. But that means that with the shedding of blood there is forgiveness. The blood of Jesus. The blood of the Lamb. The blood of God. What sin do you have that the blood of God cannot cleanse? If the answer to that question is none - and it is! - then you are free. Free from the Egypt of your slavery. Free from your sins. Free to live as the child of God you are. For He is not just your God, but your Father. And you are not just His people, but His son.

And that makes this a special night for us. A joyous night. Though a night that begins our solemn remembrance of Jesus’ death on the cross. We will strip the altar. The music will go away. The lights will dim. But though solemn, we are not somber. Neither do we mourn. Because we know this is the Passover of our Lord, and with this meal, our Passover. We know how this story ends. In victory.

Which makes this a special night - a special three nights for us, actually. To repent, reflect, and remember. And to get ready for the joy that is coming. The joy of Easter, and the joy of our eternal Easter.

So come, eat your Passover. Jesus has prepared it. For you.

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

Holy Wednesday Meditation

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Jesu Juva

“Trampling Our Enemies”

Text: Isaiah 63:11 - 64:7; Psalm 60

When you hear words like we heard from the prophet Isaiah tonight, you wonder . . . The words are about Jesus, but is He the trampler or the trampled? Is He the one who comes in wrath on in compassion? Is He the one who pours out blood or the one whose blood is poured out?

The answer is both.

That’s what makes this Holy Week so special. No other god of any other people or nation is like this. There are so many religions and so many gods and they’re all in it for themselves. They don’t serve; they demand to be served. They don’t lay down their life; they demand you do. 

So Jesus is one of one. For He’s all in for you. 

Yes, there is wrath and judgment, for He is a just God. Those who rebel against Him and spurn His Word and Law will and must be punished. Otherwise His Word and Law are meaningless. 

But He is also a compassionate God, who knows our weakness. Who knows the devastation caused by sin. Who knows we need saving if we are to have a future. So He comes to save. The trampler becomes the trampled. He bears the wrath of God against all the ungodliness and sinfulness of man. His blood is poured out so ours will not be. The Day of His wrath will come, but it is not yet. Now is the favorable time. Now is the day of salvation (2 Corinthians 6:2). Now is the time to seek and receive His forgiveness, life, and help. 

So this week we do. Not just this week, but especially this week. We remember all that Jesus has done for us, how He has come to serve us, how He laid down His life for us. We repent, we marvel, we stand in awe and sit in silence. Sad and horrified by what was done to Him, but at the same time rejoicing that it was done to Him, for He did it to save us. To save me.

To save me from my sins, yes. But when it say it that way, sin sounds so impersonal, so disconnected. So let’s substitute a word there for sins to make this a bit more real . . . Let’s use the word enemies. Jesus came to save us from our enemies.

So who are your enemies?

The psalm that we sang tonight mentioned three enemies that were constant thorns in Israel’s side: Edom, Moab, and Philistia. Those nations, those people, harassed and harried Israel relentlessly. 

So who are your Edom, Moab, and Philistia? Your enemies? The thorns in your side? For you it is not nations or even people. Remember what Saint Paul said: We don’t wrestle against flesh and blood, but against spiritual forces of evil (Ephesians 6:12). So yes, satan and his minions are your enemies, and we certainly need saving from them. 

But think more, deeper . . . think about not who, but what? What are the enemies in your life, the things in your life, that you are wrestling with, that are looking to defeat you and overcome you and make your life less than what God intended it to be? Enemies you cannot defeat, but need Jesus to trample?

How about anger? Or pride? Or resentment or bitterness? Or pornography? Or other sexual sins? Or alcohol? Or hatred? Or gluttony, covetousness, or greed? What are they for you? And how are these sins, these enemies, trampling you and being thorns in your flesh? Making you be who you do not want to be, and do what you do not want to do? So that you cry out: Father, I cannot defeat that foe! I cannot save myself! Help me. 

And the good news is that you have a Father who does. Who sent His Son to be trampled in your place, and then to rise up and trample your enemies for you, in you. To save you. To forgive you and set you free. And who gives you His Spirit so that you not be captive to them, be overcome them. So that as we sang at the end of the psalm: With God we shall do valiantly; it is he who will tread down our foes. That our enemies not overcome us, but be overcome, by our Saviour. That’s what this week is all about.

So this week, when we remember the Lord’s Supper, the betrayal, the arrest and trial, the crucifixion, and the resurrection, think about all those enemies seeking to conquer you being conquered by Jesus. Think of Him being trampled by them on the cross, but then rising from the grave and trampling them! And then Jesus coming to you with His peace. The peace of His forgiveness. The peace of His freedom.

So that we can say with Isaiah:

I will recount the steadfast love of the Lord,
the praises of the Lord . . .
that he has granted [us] according to his compassion,
according to the abundance of his steadfast love.