Sunday, August 26, 2018

Pentecost 14 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Changing to Word, or the Word Changing You?”
Text: Mark 7:1-13; Isaiah 29:11-19; Ephesians 5:22-33

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

We all do it. We all think we know better. We know what’s right. We know what’s good. At least, good for us.

We all do it. We’re all experts in our own lives. What we want, what we need, and how to get what we want and what we need.

We all do it. Children think they know better than their parents. Employees think they know better than their bosses or managers. Players think they know better than their coaches. Pastors think they know better than their District President. Drivers think they know better than the traffic laws. And where else? How do you do it? ‘Cause we all do it. 

And then this too, of course: we think we know better than God. That’s why we sin, after all. Doing what we want, not what God wants. That’s why we disagree with certain things in the Bible. Questioning God and His ways and His love. We know better, and, well, I think He should do things my way and agree with me. Just like my boss should, and my parents should, and my coach should, and the laws should. Do it my way, and then this world would be a better place.

Right.

We don’t put it like that, though. So crassly. We make what we think, what we want, sound good, not rebellious. We call it fairness, freedom, reason, love. And maybe, when it comes to people in the world, maybe sometimes we do know better. But when it comes to God, good and pious sounding names and rationalizations don’t change the fact of what we’re doing: going our own way, and expecting God to bless us in it.

That’s what the Pharisees had done at the time of Jesus. They had lots of rules and traditions that they made sound pious and holy and made them look pious and holy, but that weren’t good at all. One of them was this thing Jesus mentioned in the Holy Gospel today, something called “corban.” To explain what that was in a modern way of thinking . . . it was as if I made out my will and said in it that all my earthly possessions I give to God. And so after I die, all I have is His. So really, it’s all His now. But until I die, I get to use it. But - and here’s the kicker - I can use it, but I can’t use any of it for, like, you know, taking care of other people, like my parents. For then I would be robbing God of what’s His. So mom, dad, I’m sorry. You’re on your own. I promised, I “corban-ed,” everything I have to God.

Oh, what a holy person, that Pharisee! He’s giving all that he has to God!

But Jesus thinks otherwise. That’s not what God wants. That’s not what He commanded. That’s not good or holy or pious at all. God said: Honor your father and your mother. Honor them as God’s representatives for you, to take care of you and provide for you. And you, in turn, obey them, love them, serve them, cherish them. Take care of them. That’s God’s good order. And this corban thing? No. You are making void the word of God by your tradition. By what you think is good. By what you think is better than the Word of God.

So, stick to God’s Word. Okay, that’s pretty clear. Maybe obvious. Especially to Christians. So let’s dig a little deeper. Here’s really what I what to think about a bit today: why? Why should we stick to God’s Word? Why should we do what He says? Why does it matter?

Some would simply say because that’s the rules, that’s the commandments. Like when children ask: why do I have to? And parents respond: because I said so! All you kids out there . . . that doesn’t really fly, does it? That’s not a good answer. And you parents, it might be right, but it’s not a good answer. And it’s not really why we should stick to God’s Word and do what He says, either. 

Because what that does is make the Bible a rule book. Just a book of dos and don’ts because God said so. But the Bible is not a rule book. It has rules and command-ments in it, yes, but it’s not a rule book. There’s an old acronym you may have heard, that the Bible is Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth . . . ugh! No! That’s not it at all. The Bible is a Jesus book. It is the book that teaches us about Jesus and who He is and what He has done for us, and so it is a book that teaches us about God and all that He is and does for us. Because that’s what we need to know. He - not rules - is what saves us.

So what happens when we change God’s Word? When we change a book that is all about Jesus? What happens when we substitute something else for what He said? Then we also change the way we think of God. And not for the better.

So take, for example, the Pharisee’s “corban.” How would that tradition change the way people thought about God? Well, it is basically saying that God doesn’t want you to take care of your parents - He wants your money instead. So what kind of God is that? 

Or, how about some modern day examples - if we can be whoever we think we are, and that doesn’t have to have anything to do with how we were born or any objective, physical reality . . . then that influences how we think about God. That God made a mistake when I was created. Or if what I think determines reality, then God is whoever or whatever I think God is or should be.

Think also about marriage, which Paul is talking about in the Epistle today. Marriage has undergone a lot of changes lately. Redefinition. Does it matter? . . . besides God simply wagging His finger at us and saying: because I said so! Well according to Paul, yes! Because, he says, our earthly marriages reflect a greater reality. Because this one flesh thing, this submission thing, this laying down your life thing, this faithfulness thing - Paul says, I’m talking about Christ and His Bride, the church. So mess up marriage and we mess up how we think about God. 

And we have messed up marriage, haven’t we? And I’m not even talking about anything that has happened lately - it goes way back before that. How many think marriage is optional, just a piece of paper? That divorce is normal, natural, and acceptable? That marriage has nothing to do with sexuality and children - you can have those and not be married! I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the many changes we have seen in our culture have gone hand-in-hand with many changes in how people think about God. You can argue which one came first, but they most certainly go together.

And so what has happened is this: we’ve lost our faithful unto death, loving, giving, merciful, gracious God. Because we thought we knew better. Better than His loving, giving, mercy, and faithfulness. And though we didn’t perhaps set out to do it, by this thinking that we know better, we’ve remade Him into our image. And that’s most certainly not better.

That’s why Jesus is upset in the Holy Gospel we heard today. It’s not just about rules and sin. Jesus knew the Pharisees were sinners, and the people around them were sinners, and that you and I are sinners. Rule breakers. Transgressors. That’s not a surprise. That’s why He came. Precisely to forgive our sins. To deal with our sin by taking it upon Himself and dying on the cross with it. To take our place in death so that we might live. That’s who God is! That’s what He has come to do! But the Pharisees, by their rules and traditions, were making God into something else - a law enforcement God. A punisher. A taskmaster. A because-I-told-you-so God.

And we need to think about that today as well. The creation reflects its creator. It is good and orderly. But if we change it because we think it’s not good and we know better . . . how are we also changing how we think about God? That’s He is also not good? That we know better than Him? Isn’t this to do what Isaiah said today: to honor God with our lips, but our hearts are far from Him? It is the pot accusing the potter of not making us (or not making us right!), and having no understanding. That is a dangerous game to play . . . that is really no game at all.

So, as God said through the prophet Isaiah, because of all this, I will again do wonderful things with this people, with wonder upon wonder; and the wisdom of their wise men - and maybe we could translate that their “so called” wise men - shall perish . . . 

Now what does that mean? What will God do? A wonder-ful, or a wonder-filled, work could be either good or bad - just a work that causes wonder or awe. So what does He mean here? Is He going to wonder us with His wrath against our sin and rebellion? Or wonder us in some other way?

Well, Isaiah goes on to say what he is talking about; what that wonder will be: In that day the deaf shall hear the words of a book, and out of their gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see. The meek shall obtain fresh joy in the Lord, and the poor among mankind shall exult in the Holy One of Israel. And that is, of course, what happened when Jesus came. When the Word of God wasn’t: because I said so, but came in flesh and blood. When because we keep messing up God, Jesus came to show us who God really is and what God is really like and what God really wants: to heal us and save us from sin and death. And not just to show us, but to do it. To be God for us. The God who is a faithful husband to His Bride. The God merciful and gracious. The God who gives Himself for His people, for His creation. That our sins be forgiven and our life be restored.

And yes, even the rules and commandments of God are for this purpose. They are to protect us and to protect the gifts God has given us. His gift of parents and family, His gift of life, His gift of marriage and sexuality, His gift of possessions, His gift of a good name, His gift of a peaceful and quiet heart, His gift of Himself and His Name and His Word. That as His Bride we have all that we need and rejoice in our heavenly Bridegroom and His goodness. Not looking to ourselves and what we can do or the name we can make for ourselves, but look to our Saviour and rejoice in what He has done for us and the name He has given to us.

So to keep God’s Word, to do what He says, isn’t to try to get something from God - He’s already given you everything. You belong to Him and all that He has is yours. 

And don’t keep His Word and do what He says simply because He said so and so you have to! That’s what slaves do, not sons and daughters.

Rather, keep His Word and treasure it and follow it, because we’re treasuring and following not just words or a book, but Jesus - the Word enfleshed. Because He is my Saviour. Because He gives me life and a future. I don’t want to change the Word because I don’t want to change Jesus or lose what He has done for me. For when you look at Jesus, you see not a because-I-said-so God, but an I-died-for-you God. Not a taskmaster God, but a serving God. Not a law enforcement God, but a forgiving God. Not a God you have to be unsure of, but a God who is faithful to His Bride - to you! - even to death. 

And now this faithful Bridegroom, who (in the words of St. Paul) has washed you clean, that you be without spot of sin or wrinkle of death, that you be holy and without blemish, just as He is, now feeds you with Himself. As we heard the last few weeks, the Bread of Life, to give you life. His life. Life that will never end. Your great sin overwhelmed by His even greater forgiveness. Your fearsome death overcome by His even more wonderful resurrection. Because as His Bride, all that is His is yours. That as Isaiah said, your eyes will see and your ears will hear and your heart will exult.

That’s who God is. That’s who God is for you. And when we fill our ears and eyes and hearts and minds with what is not His Word, we miss all that. And we are less, not better, for it. 

Because better, far better, than changing the Word, is for the Word to change you. From death to life. From uncertain to confident. From sinner to saint. From alone to family, a child of God in His family. And He has. You have His Word on it.

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

Sunday, August 19, 2018

Pentecost 13 Sermon

No sermon manuscript to post today as we enjoyed the preachment of Seminary Ph.D. Student Daniel Broaddus today. I'll post the audio of his sermon later this afternoon.

Update: Link to sermon audio.

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Pentecost 12 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“A Tree to Feed Life”
Text: John 6:35-51 (1 Kings 19:1-8; Ephesians 4:17-5:2)

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

In the beginning, when there was no death, there was a tree of life.

Isn’t that interesting? Why did they need such a tree? What did it do? What did it give that none of the other trees could give? Well, we cannot speculate too much here, beyond what the Word of God tells us. And all the Word tells us is its name. It was a tree of life. A tree with life in it. A tree that fed life. Gave life.

All the others trees - except for one - could feed Adam and Eve and the children they would have. But these were not trees of life. Trees with life in them. Trees that give life. There was only one tree that could do that. Only one.

That’s sounds a bit funny though, doesn’t it? Because we know we must eat to live. And that how we eat will, in a large way, dictate how we live. We know so much more now about food and nutrition than we’ve ever known before. What foods are necessary and which are better not eaten. There are all kinds of different diets and plans. Some, I’m sure, are healthier than others. Some, I’m sure, make you feel better than others. I’m not criticizing any of them. People who discover one of these diets and is helped by it and sticks to it, I admire them. I am not so good. I am not so strong.

But here’s the thing: no matter what you eat or how you eat, no matter what your diet, even if you have the perfect diet and perfectly stick to it, this too is true: you’re going to die. Like all the other trees in the Garden for Adam and Eve, these trees, these diets, these foods, cannot give us life. They sustain it for a while, maybe keep you going longer or better, nourish us. But in the end, they will fail. All of them. You, me, your spouse, your parents, your children, your friends, we’re going to die.

That’s what happened to the people of Israel in the wilderness, after God brought them out of their slavery, out of Egypt. They needed food, and God gave them manna to eat. Bread from heaven. It was wonderful. It was miraculous. And it sustained them for a while. A long while. 40 years. But it was not bread of life. They died in the wilderness. A whole generation.

Yet that was the kind of bread the people of Jesus’ day were looking for. Jesus’ miracle reminded them of those days, the good ol’ days. Bread from heaven. Jesus had made a good start. He had fed over 5,000 with just five loaves of bread and two fish. It was wonderful. It was miraculous. And so they came for more. Don’t stop now, Jesus! Keep it up. Keep it up and you’ll be just like Moses. Maybe even greater. Don’t stop now, Jesus! Do it again, and then do it again, and again. That’s what we want, Jesus.

But Jesus knew. That’s not bread that can give life. Even Elijah’s bread, that we heard about in the Old Testament reading - a cake of bread and a jar of water brought by an angel . . . It was wonderful. It was miraculous. It kept him alive and going for forty days and forty nights! But it was not bread of life, life-giving bread, bread with life in it. Had Elijah not been taken in a whirlwind to heaven, he too would have died - as he wished. Just like all the other prophets.

Because instead of eating from the tree of life, the tree with life in it, the tree that gave life, Adam and Eve decided instead to eat of that other tree - the one with death in it. And that brought about this other interesting reality:

That in the beginning, when there was no death, there was a tree of life. 
Then, when there was death, there was no longer a tree of life.

God barred Adam and Eve and their children from the tree of life. The tree given to nourish the living could no longer be eaten, for now they were dying.

But we hunger and thirst for life. Dying is not right, and we know it. Dying is not natural, not normal, no matter how much some in the world try to convince us that it is. So we hunger and thirst for life. And we chase after it. But we’ve been dying for so long, do we even know what it is that we’re chasing? Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to find! 

For think, for a moment: what are you chasing? What are you going after? That’s where we think we’ll find the life we need. Maybe it’s education, accomplishment, success. Maybe it’s power, popularity, or riches. Maybe it’s all our desires fulfilled, though some think it’s all our desires denied. Maybe it’s having a purpose in this world, value, meaning. What is it for you? What are you chasing? But people who have done those things, achieved those things, where are they now? 

So maybe, just maybe, Jesus is saying today, there is a better way. Maybe it’s not what we’re chasing at all, but God chasing after us. 

That’s what happened in the beginning. When Adam and Eve began dying, they hid. They couldn’t go to God. But God came to them. Chased after them. Dragged them out of their hiding places and gave them the promise of a Saviour. One who would restore the life they had tossed aside. They were dying and so could no longer eat of the tree of life, but now they began to live again. Because, as we heard Jesus say today: Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever believes - believes the Word and promises of God - has eternal life.

And that’s what was happening throughout the Old Testament. God chasing after the dying, to give them life. Chasing them through His prophets to drag them away from whatever they thought was giving them life, that they find their life in Him.

Now it was happening in Galilee, in Judea, in Capernaum. Jesus is the Son of God who came down from heaven, to chase after and drag people out of sin, out of death, out of our poor substitutes for the life He has come to give, and restore us to true life. That we see in Jesus the one promised to Adam and Eve. That we see in Jesus what we’re hungering and thirsting for. That we see in Jesus life, and live. For, as Jesus said, this is the will of my Father, that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in him - believes what God has said about Him; believes the Word and promises of God in Him - should have eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. 

And so there is life again. Life that death can no longer end. In Jesus.

For the one with only life in Him dies, so that we who have only death in us may live.

Or we can say it this way, too:

The one with no sin becomes the sinner and takes our place in death; 
so that we with only sin may be sons of God, and take His place in life.

The people who heard Jesus grumbled at that. We know where you came from, where you grew up, who your parents are. You’re not who you say you are. Surely we can have life without you, apart from you. People grumble that today as well. Maybe you have, too.

But those who ate the manna died. And those who eat all the breads of this world - that are all also from God’s hand, by the way - will die. There’s only one who can raise you to life again. The one who died for you, but who Himself rose from death and the grave and left it behind, a defeated foe. 

And this resurrection to life Jesus has promised you. In the words of your baptism. In the words that we heard today, His words of promise. And He will not cast you out. He wants only to save and give life. To save us from ourselves and our sin and our sinful desires and chasing after all that cannot give us life, and give us Himself and His forgiveness and His life. True life. Life that will last forever.

And so now, for us who have been set free from death by grace through faith in the promises of God in Christ Jesus, for us who have been raised to life again in Christ Jesus, baptized into His death and resurrection, in Christ Jesus there is again a tree of life. Jesus has restored us. And so new food for the new Adam in us. But not the same food. Now, the Body and Blood of Jesus. The Bread of Life.

Why do we need such food? What else do we need when we’re saved by grace through faith in Christ Jesus? Well, what did Adam and Eve need with such a tree when there was as yet no death in the world? But God put it there for them. A tree of life. A tree with life in it. A tree that fed life. 

And so too for us, though we know a little more about this food. The Body and Blood of Jesus is food for our journey. We’ve been saved by Jesus, and He puts here food for this life. Food with life in it. Food that feeds the life He has given us with His forgiveness, His life, and His salvation. That we may be His own and live this new life He has given us. This new life, no longer for sin but for Him. This new life that St. Paul described today in the Epistle, as imitators of God, as beloved children. . . . Walking in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. And so forgiving one another, doing good for all, and chasing after not the things of this world, but rejoicing in the God who has chased us down and given us life.

And finally, if you’re not convinced, think about this too: that in Revelation 22, the very last book of the Bible, the very last chapter in the Bible, where we are given a picture of Paradise and eternal life, you know what’s there? Yeah, the tree of life. Why do we need the tree of life when we have eternal life? When we’re there? When there is no more death?

Well, perhaps this is the way we should think: because life is never ours, our possession. It is always the gift of God, for however long He gives it to us. Even in heaven. So this is what eternal life means: The promise that He will give us this life, His life, eternally. Forever. That we will never be barred from the tree again. That we will never be separated from God again. That we’ll be with Him and live with Him eternally. Because of Jesus. Because we are sons of God in Him. He is feeding us with His life now, and He will so feed us forever.

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


Sunday, July 22, 2018

Saint Mary Magdalene Sermon

St. Mary Magdalene   
The Holy Baptism of Henry Walther Sigismund Powers

Jesu Juva

“Holding on for Dear Life!”
Text: John 20:1-2, 10-18; Proverbs 31:10-31

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

Of all the saints days that we commemorate in the church, Saint Mary Magdalene sounds the most jarring, doesn’t it? Seems the most unusual, the most unlikely, the most out of place, the most . . . well let’s just say it: wrong.

But that’s what makes this day so right! Mary reminds us that we are all unlikely saints. That saint isn’t something we do, but what God does for us, as He did for Mary. That a saint isn’t someone who has taken such a strong hold of God and made himself an exemplary person, someone the world points to and says: good, holy, saintly! A saint is someone God has taken hold of and says: forgiven, free, mine! 

And that makes Mary Magdalene the perfect saint. It’s as if Jesus is the exact opposite of the reading from Proverbs we heard today. He doesn’t look for the most excellent to be His bride, He finds the worst - and makes her excellent. 

I’m mean . . . really . . . think about who God finds and picks. Abraham was an idolater. Jacob was a heel whose life was littered with bad decisions. David was an adulterer and a murderer. Peter put his foot in his mouth so often it’s a wonder he didn’t have “athlete’s tongue.” James and John kept wanting to be the greatest, some of the other disciples seem to have more rocks than brains in their heads, Paul (then Saul) was the church’s enemy number one, and many of those we now call early church fathers were rascals early on. And if you put all those people and all those sins together and mushed them into one person, you’d get . . . no, not Mary Magdalene. Me! And, maybe, I suspect, you, too.

It’s what our Lord does. We saw it again with little Henry this morning. God doesn’t find saints, He makes them. He makes saints out of sinners. He grabs hold of us and says forgiven, free, mine! He cleanses us with water and the Word to be His holy bride. And that’s true no matter who you are. Whether you were born a Jew or a Gentile, on the right side of the tracks or the wrong side of the tracks, even if you were one of the soldiers that brought the hammer down on the nails that pierced His hands and feet - Jesus wants you as His Bride.

And as Mary learned today, not just till death do us part! For death had indeed parted them, but now death had been defeated. 

Now, to be clear, the Bride of Christ is the Church - the whole Church. The world often takes what the Scriptures say and what the Church says and misunderstands it and twists it. And so there are books and movies and articles that claim that Mary Magdalene was Jesus’ wife in an earthly, fleshly sense. But not so. Mary was not Christ’s Bride by flesh, but by faith. As are you and I and the whole Church. Christ has made Himself one flesh with us and has given us all that He is and all that He has. There was no prenup! For God’s love for us never ends. Jesus took all that is ours - our sin, our death, our condemnation; and gave us all that is His - His forgiveness, His life, His Sonship, His kingdom. He took us to be His own, not just for this life, but forever. 

So Mary goes to the tomb that morning feeling every bit the weeping widow. Before Jesus, she had been possessed, held tight in the grasp of seven demons. Her life was - literally! - a living hell. Hell living in her and through her. Until Jesus took hold of her. Until Jesus expelled those seven demons and gave her new life. But now . . . how hell won? Had hell conquered the conquerer and enslaved the one who had set her free? A bloody cross and a sealed tomb loudly shouted Yes! in her heart.

So when Mary got to the tomb and found it empty, that shouting didn’t stop - it just got worse. And the tears more bitter. It wasn’t enough that they took His life, now they had to take His body too? And do what to it? 

Why are you weeping? they asked her. The two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had lain. Maybe through tear-blurred eyes, she couldn’t tell they were angels. 

Why are you weeping? the gardener asked her. Such inane questions to ask outside a tomb! So she doesn’t answer. Just tell me where you put Him, please. 

Mary.

The Good Shepherd calls His sheep by name. And the sheep know His voice (John 10:4-5). Nothing further is needed. Mary now knows who this gardener is - the divine gardener! The one who planted Eden. The one who planted the people of Israel in the Promised Land. The one who had taken her, a dried up, dead, hell-bound plant, and given her new life. He had taken hold of her, now she would take hold of Him, and never let go. 

No Mary. Not by flesh, but by faith. Jesus isn’t done. He must ascend. Not to leave His Bride, but to prepare a place for her. So, He says to Mary: Do not cling to me, for I have not yet ascended to the Father; but go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’

Yes, by faith, joined to the Bridegroom, we have a new Father. And we have a new Spirit. For Jesus ascends not just to prepare a place for us, for His Bride, but also to send His Spirit. And that is better, He says (John 16:7). Better for us as we await the time when He will come and take home His Bride, the Church. When not just He, but all the dead, are raised. And the marriage feast of the Lamb, which will have no end, begins (Revelation 19:7, 9).

So no, Mary. It is still not your taking hold of Christ. He who took you will continue to hold you through His Spirit. 

And again, that is exactly what we saw again this morning, as Jesus took hold of Henry through water and the Word, forgave his sins, set him free from death and hell, and said mine! Like with Mary, the unclean spirit was forced to depart, and Henry was given a new Spirit, a holy one; and with it, the gift of faith. Jesus has withheld nothing from Henry. All that’s Henry’s is His, and all that’s His is now Henry’s. And so Henry has a new Father, a heavenly one. A new brother and Saviour. And a new Spirit. He is part of the Bride of Christ, the Church. By faith, all this is His. Another sinner has been made a saint.

Though, like us, Henry will still be the sinner. He’ll pick on his brothers, aggravate his parents, fail to do what his heavenly Father asks him to do, and sometimes just be plain ornery and rebellious. Like the rest of us. He’ll need forgiveness for the rest of his life. The daily washing that all saints need. And the feeding, too, of His Lord. The bread of life, the Body and Blood of His Saviour. He’ll need that, too. And get it. For the Lord who has taken hold of him today will not let him go, but will continue to care for him and keep him. And discipline him when necessary. But all in love. That Henry not cling to the things of this world, but only by faith to His risen Saviour.

So today, Henry takes his place with Mary Magdalene and the rest of us strange and unlikely saints. And also like Mary, the Lord will use him as His blessing to others. Mary proclaimed the resurrection to the disciples. How will He use Henry? Maybe in a similar way, maybe in a way none of us today can imagine. But just as Mary’s life and all of our lives have taken twists and turns that were unimaginable, so too Henry. And though there will be both weeping and joy, the Lord will be holding on to Henry through it all. Henry may not know it; he’ll maybe even doubt it. But Jesus made a promise today to Henry. He said: forgiven, free, mine! And He meant it. And that’s a promise to cling to! All of us.

So July 22. The day we commemorate Saint Mary Magdalene. The day that has changed Henry’s life. And so how appropriate to sing:

My song is love unknown, - unfathomable!
My Savior’s love to me,
Love to the loveless shown That they might lovely be.
Oh, who am I That for my sake
My Lord should take Frail flesh and die? (LSB #430 v. 1)

But He did!
Thanks be to God!

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

Sunday, July 15, 2018

Pentecost 8 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“A King, A Voice, and A Kingdom”
Text: Mark 6:14-29; Amos 7:7-15; Ephesians 1:3-14

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

He was in prison. He could not escape. The bonds were too strong. He had been put there by an evil tyrant. How long had it been? Too long, certainly.

Until one day he lost his head. Too much alcohol and too much lust and too much pride - too much fun times - made him speak words he would later regret. Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you, he boldly vowed. Up to half my kingdom.

King Herod, you see, was in prison. A prisoner to his desires. A prisoner to his power. A prisoner to fear. A prisoner to guilt. These things held him down, held him back. He could not do what he wanted to do. And so he was tormented. He wanted to hear John, but he didn’t want to hear John. He wanted to release John, but he didn’t want to release John. He was greatly perplexed. At himself, at the battle going on within him. And he knew no way of escape.

I think you know what that’s like, a bit. When your desires have made you do something you later regretted. When you spoke and then wished you could take those words back. When your fear made you do what you really didn’t want to do. When a guilty conscience gives you no peace. Those are the bonds of sin, imprisoning you. John was in a prison, but Herod was the real prisoner. For sometimes the chains and prisons you cannot see are the worst of all.

As I read these words about Herod I thought about another king, one who lived a long time before Herod. A king who did not utter Herod’s rash promise, but to whom such a promise was spoken. A young man named Solomon, who had just been made king of Israel. God appeared to him in a dream and said: Ask what I shall give you (1 Kings 3:5). Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it to you.

Solomon asked for a hearing heart (1 Kings 3:9). He did not ask for a long life, or riches, or the head of his enemy on a platter. But for a heart to hear God’s Word. A heart to hear properly. To heart discern the Word of God from all the other voices that assault our ears and our hearts. A heart that would not be imprisoned or ruled by guilt, fear, lust, or pride. A heart that could hear God’s Word and keep it, treasure it.

A hearing heart is what Herod needed. He heard John gladly. He liked to listen to John. But there were other voices, too. Others voices that poured down upon Herod. Like the voice of his brother’s wife Herodias, whom he had taken to be his own. Her words flooded his ears and mind, too, causing him to put John in prison in the first place. There was the voice of his wife’s daughter, which caused him to give the wretched beheading order. And then, too, the voice of his own pride, which caused him to not want to disappoint his guests or break an oath that never should have been made. Sometimes the problem isn’t hearing God’s Word, but picking it out from all the other voices vying for our hearts and devotion.

I think you also know what that’s like, a bit. For how many voices do you hear everyday? From the left, from the right. From friends, from foes. From television and radio, movies and the internet. From those we should listen to, and those we probably should not. And God’s Word in all that? Tough to hear sometimes. A hearing heart is what we need, too.

Maybe we could say that Herod was half of the way there, or maybe a third. For the Third Commandment tells us to not despise preaching and God’s Word, but to hold it sacred, and gladly hear and learn it. Herod held God’s preacher in prison and gladly heard it, we are told, but never learned it. Never applied it to his heart and life. Never quite let it have its way with him.

Like the people who lived at the time of the prophet Amos, who we heard from today. Like John the Baptist with King Herod, Amos tried to get his king and his people to turn from their false gods - but they pushed the Word of God away. Literally. They told Amos, God’s preacher, to go back to where he came from, and take his words with him. They didn’t like what he had to say. And again, maybe you know what that’s like, a bit, too. Maybe you don’t always like what God has to say. Or you hear God’s Word grudgingly, not gladly. Or you don’t want to hear, because other voices are pulling you in another direction. 

Hearing God’s Word, learning it, applying it, believing it, submitting to it . . . it isn’t easy. Because it means confessing that I’m not the king. It means confessing that I am a sinner. It means admitting that maybe I don’t know all I think I know. That maybe the way I’ve ordered my life isn’t right at all. That I need to hear something to set me free from the palace of my own desires, defenses, and demands that I have built around myself - that turned out to be not a palace, but a prison.

Yes Herod, you are the prisoner king. And the one you imprisoned is free. You set him free when you beheaded him, but he was free even before that. For he had a freedom that neither threats, fears, nor bars could hold - the freedom of Christ. The freedom of a Saviour. The freedom of the forgiveness of sins, the covering of shame, and of a life that not even death can end. So John was fearless. Whether in the Jordan or in a prison cell. What can man do to you when you know the Lamb of God?

The Lamb of God who was offered not up to half, but all the kingdoms of the world. Remember that? It was satan who uttered that offer to Jesus in the wilderness (Matthew 4:8-9). But as Jesus would later teach: what does it profit a man to gain the whole world and forfeit his soul (Mark 8:36)? Jesus knew there was one kingdom greater than all the kingdoms of this world combined, and one that would outlast them all. The kingdom of God, the kingdom of the Word, the kingdom that Jesus had come to win - not for Himself; it was already His! But for you and me. For us languishing in our prisons of sin and death.

That’s the kingdom John was trying to tell Herod about. That’s the kingdom John wanted Herod to have - an eternal one, not the one he had that was passing away. And so John preached to him, and wanted more than anything else to say those precious words of God to Herod - the words of God’s forgiveness. But sadly, those words John never got to say to him. When Herod lost his head, John lost his. And his voice was silenced.

But the voice of Jesus is not. For even though Jesus bowed His head in death, three days later His voice was heard again. His voice proclaiming forgiveness and peace. Proclaiming that the prisons of sin, death, and hell have been opened and us prisoners set free. Free to live no longer in fear and guilt and shame, no longer slaves to our desires, and no longer having to be king. For you have a better king than yourself. One much more kind and merciful and loving and forgiving than you are even to yourself. A king who died for you and rose for you and is coming back for you. A king who washes you, forgives you, and feeds you. A king who is generous and gracious and faithful.

And His Word continues to be proclaimed, His voice still heard today. For He speaks through those He sends, telling them: He who hears you, hears me (Luke 10:16). So when you hear I baptize you, when you hear I forgive you all your sins, when you hear This is My Body, This is My Blood, when you hear This is the Gospel of the Lord, it all really is. It is the King speaking to you and being your king. To sanctify you. To holy you. With His Good Friday-ly forgiveness and His Easter-ly life. Because this King doesn’t demand from you, but gives to you and sets you free to do the same. Not to demand, but to give and serve and love.

For He has given you not up to half His kingdom, but all of it. That as a child of God, that be your inheritance. That’s the reality Paul was talking about in his letter to the Ephesians that we heard today. He talked about our glorious and eternal inheritance, with words like every spiritual blessing . . . riches of grace lavished upon us . . . and the Holy Spirit as our guarantee. Our guarantee, for, as I’m sure is no surprise to you, we’re not there yet. But the kingdom is yours. Now. It’s your inheritance, signed, sealed, and delivered. And as we wait for it to come in its fullness, we are not alone. The Holy Spirit is with us and Christ comes to us.

So as John preached at the Jordan and preached to Herod: repent and believe the Gospel. Believe that you are a baptized child of God. Believe that even in the tough times, Jesus is with you; Jesus is for you. Believe that the forgiveness of your Saviour is greater than the guilt of your sin. And believe that on the Last Day, John’s body will be raised just as your body will be raised, and he will be headless no more, but perfect. For in Christ, we are the champions.

And believe this too: that though beheaded, John is still preaching. Now, to you. For when Herod’s sword went down, John’s voice went up, and joined the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, singing Holy, Holy, Holy! We’ll join that song today. We’ll join John today. And we’ll hear him. Still preaching the holy one. Still pointing sinners to their Saviour. Still testifying that take they our life, goods, fame, child, and wife, they yet have nothing won, the kingdom our remaineth (LSB #656 v. 4).

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