Sermon for the Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“In This Desolate Place, Too”

Text: Mark 6:30-44; Jeremiah 23:1–6

 

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

Who was in the crowd that day? Those 5,000 men - plus perhaps women and children - who ran there on foot to get to Jesus? Who were they? Well, they are undoubtedly just like the group that has come here today. 

People struggling with issues in their lives.

People with family difficulties. Husbands and wives who fought last night and are still not speaking. Moms and Dads dealing with rebellious children. And children struggling to take care of aging parents.

They are people struggling with temptation and sin, beset with sins they can’t seem to shake and filled with guilt. Knowing what they should do, but failing time after time.

They are people for whom life is empty and uncertain. Lonely people, yearning for a friend.

They are people filled with worries. People filled with sadness, regrets about the past and what could have been, about the future and what will be; people struggling with depression.

They are people struggling to make ends meet, and tired - tired of the daily routine, tired of trying to get ahead, tired of all their hard work and no pay back for it.

They are people mourning the loss of a loved one. People wondering, hoping, that tomorrow might be a little better than today.

Sound familiar?

And when Jesus went ashore and saw them, that great crowd of people like that, He had compassion on them. Because when He looked out at that crowd, when He looks at you now, He doesn’t see strugglers, He doesn’t see failures, He doesn’t see people who were a disappointment to Him, He doesn’t see people who should know better and do better and be better. That’s how you and I feel and think at times, or maybe a lot! But that’s not what Jesus saw. 

He saw people who were like sheep without a shepherd. Which is to say, people who needed some TLC. People who were beat up and beat down by sin, death, and the devil - and by those who were supposed to be their shepherds, but were not! He saw people wounded by sin, and scared of the evil rising up in the world. People running from their past but afraid of the future. That day, in that desolate place, was the flock He had come to shepherd. A flock of sad, sick, wounded, lost, confused, worried, tired, and frightened sheep.

The day had started quite differently. His twelve had just returned from the towns and villages where Jesus had sent them two-by-two, and it was time for Him to care for them, for an After Action Report, a debrief, and a little rest. They needed a little alone time. You know how that is. They got a little, in the boat with Jesus. But the sheep followed their shepherd, for that’s what sheep do. They were in need, and knew Jesus was the one who could supply their need. 

So they ran to Him. To be with the one who understood them. 

Because, remember? Jesus was different. Different than the other teachers and leaders, who heaped up law after law after law. Who just told them what they needed to do and how they needed to be. Surely that was all true. But a little help would be nice! A little relief. A little compassion. 

That’s exactly what Jesus did! Heck, one of His closest disciples was an ex-tax collector! He didn’t reject people for their mistakes or their past. He didn’t just tell people to be better - He made them better. He didn’t ignore their sin, but neither did He shame them for their sin - He forgave their sin! He seemed to know exactly what they needed. He was one of them, but also more than them. He gave them hope. 

And that’s what He did that day. He began to teach them many things, Mark says. Yes, but what He taught was hope. He taught of a loving Father. He taught of promises fulfilled. He taught of a glorious future. He taught that they were not alone, or own their own, in this sin-filled world. And He not only taught that, He did that. For then He fed them. He cared for them. For that’s what Good Shepherds do. 

His disciples wanted to send the people away. They meant well. They thought they were being compassionate. They wanted to give the people enough time to get to the surrounding villages and buy some food before it got too late; before it got dark and the shopkeepers closed up for the night. I suppose that is one kind of compassion - but not Jesus’ kind; not how Jesus does things. You give them something to eat, Jesus said. 

Now, Mark records what they said in response to this, that they didn’t have anywhere close to that kind of money! But I think there was probably a moment of stunned silence first! With mouths agape and eyes wide. Us? . . . Surely, you don’t mean . . . how can we . . . you know how much that will cost? . . .

Well, yes, as a matter of fact, Jesus did know. He knew that to properly care for all these people - these people and far more, infinitely more! - was going to cost His life. His life that He had come to lay down for them, not in that desolate place, but in a place far more desolate - on the cross, where, although surrounded by people, He would hang alone. Alone with the sin of the world upon Him. A burden far greater than they could imagine.

They were still learning that. They were still disciples, learners, after all. So time to learn some more. Time to learn not just about the power of God, but the compassion of God. A compassion far greater than their own. That for the Good Shepherd, there is no flock too large or too small for His care. Remember, not too long ago, He had stopped just to care for a single woman who had been bleeding for twelve years - a single sheep. Now He would provide for thousands. And they all ate and were satisfied. The food they didn’t think was enough was more than enough.

First He taught them, then He fed them. Or was it really the other way around? Was His teaching really the food they needed? And was His feeding really the teaching they needed? To teach them who He was. The prophet greater than Moses, when the people were fed by manna in a desolate wilderness. The one of whom Jeremiah prophesied, who would care for His sheep and whose name is The Lord is our righteousness. The one who opens His hands and satisfies the desires of every living thing (Introit). And for us that means the desires of both body and soul.

Which is exactly why you have come here today. It is not because of our magnificent building! It is not for the glorious music. It is not because here are the high and mighty of the world. It is not because of the dynamic preacher. It is because Jesus is here. The one who has compassion. And He does not reject you, though maybe the world does. He does not condemn you, though maybe your heart does. He is not here to scold you. (I’m guessing you get enough of that already!) He is not here to ignore your sin, though, or approve of it. It’s hurting you, even if you don’t realize it. More than that, it’s killing you. So He’s here to forgive your sin. And by forgiving your sin, taking it away, give you life and love and hope. 

Which is all to say He is here to feed you. With His Word, with His forgiveness, and with His very Body and Blood. It’s not just one feeding here, but many. Just as that day in that desolate place. 

And while maybe we’d like to see a miracle like that, feeding over 5,000 people with just five loaves of bread and two fish, truth is, this feeding here is a miracle is far greater. For with this feeding, this food, far more than 5,000 are fed every week, from pulpits and altars and churches all over the world. The Good Shepherd caring for a worldwide flock. And yet here, too. Our little church maybe like that lone woman Jesus stopped to heal that day. We’re not much, but we don’t escape His notice - or His love and care.

And maybe you feel that way because who are you? Not very good, not very important, not very valuable. Except you are! To Jesus. He baptized you, after all. You are His child, His lamb. The one He went to the cross for. The one He comes here today for. The one He’s coming again for, because He has prepared a place for you, to be with Him, forever.

And maybe that changes things a bit . . . that as you go home today, as that great crowd went home after their feeding . . . it’s not without hope. And not just some wistful, wishful hope, but true hope. That you’ve been here with the one who can truly make a difference. Or even more, that He is with you. And that He goes with you. His care not ending at that door, but that whatever you face this week, whatever struggles you are going home to, whatever challenges still await you, you’ve been filled with the gifts of Jesus. And they make a difference. They make a difference in how you treat others, in what you say, what you do, how you live. That the darkness of the world be a little less dark, with the light and love and forgiveness of Christ given to you, now in you for others, and in others for you. 

That day, in that desolate place, the Good Shepherd came and fed His flock. The promised Messiah was there. And thanks be to God, He is here for us, too, in all the desolate places we are. Wherever you are, however you are, whoever you are, take and eat, He says. You are forgiven, He says. I AM, He says, for you.

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

The Congregation at Prayer

For the Week of Pentecost 9 (July 22-27, 2024)

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

Speak the Apostles’ Creed. 

Verse: Psalm 145:5 – ”On the glorious splendor of your majesty, and on your wondrous works, I will meditate.”

Hymn of the Week:  Lutheran Service Book #754 “Entrust Your Days and Burdens”

Hymns for Sunday: 790, 754, 628, 596, 718, 816

Readings for the Week: [The readings for Thursday-Saturday are the Scriptures for this coming Sunday.]

Monday: Psalm 136:1–9

Why give thanks to the Lord? Why is this good for us to do?

Tuesday: John 20:1-2, 10-18

Commemoration of St. Mary Magdalene. Why was Mary weeping? Why do we weep at death? Why do we need to no more?

Wednesday: Acts 11:27 – 12:5

Commemoration of St. James the Elder, Apostle (Thursday). Why is being an apostle (and all Christianity) bloody business?

Thursday: Genesis 9:8–17

What was God’s covenant here? Instead of a flood, what water does God now use to deal with us? What does this water destroy?

Friday: Ephesians 3:14–21

What is Paul’s confidence? What is Paul’s prayer? How did Paul know Christ and His love? How did this change Paul?

Saturday: Mark 6:45–56

Why were the disciples astounded? Does that surprise you? Is this sometimes true for you, too? What’s the solution for us?

The Catechism - The Lord’s Prayer, The Fifth Petition – And forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. What does this mean? We pray in this petition that our Father in heaven would not look at our sins, or deny our prayer because of them. We are neither worthy of the things for which we pray, now have we deserved them, but we ask that He would give them all to us by grace, for we daily sin much and surely deserve nothing but punishment. So we too will sincerely forgive and gladly do good to those who sin against us.

Collect for the Week: Almighty and most merciful God, the protector of all who trust in You, strengthen our faith and give us courage to believe that in Your love You will rescue us from all adversities; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord. Amen

The Prayers:  Please pray for . . .

+ yourself and for all in need (remembering especially those on our prayer list).

+ God’s blessing, wisdom, guidance, and strength for Pastor Douthwaite.

+ the Lutheran Synod of Mexico, for God’s wisdom, blessing, guidance, and provision.

+ God’s blessing, guidance, and provision for Concordia Theological Seminary, Ft. Wayne, IN.

Conclude with the Lord’s Prayer and Luther’s Morning or Evening Prayer from the Catechism.

Now joyfully go about your day (or to bed) in good cheer, child of God!

Collect for the Week © 2018 Concordia Publishing House.

Lutheran Service Book Hymn License: 110019268

Sermon for the Eighth Sunday after Pentecost

LISTEN

Jesu Juva

“Losing Your Head, Saving Your Life”

Text: Mark 6:14-29; Amos 7:7-15; Ephesians 1:3-14

Romans 11:33 (Gradual)

 

Before I begin this sermon, let me say that I wrote this sermon - and especially the first sentence you will hear! - before the events of last night. So the connection you will hear, and maybe make, was not intentional, and I apologize if it sounds crass. That is not my intention. 

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

If John wanted to save his head, all he had to do was shut his mouth.

Really! It would have been easy for John to get out of prison. Easy to go back to his life of freedom and baptizing. And isn’t that what God would want anyway? Not for John to stay in prison, but to go out and baptize more people? Wouldn’t he do more good at the Jordan than in prison? So John, just stay quiet! Stop criticizing Herod and Herodias, his brother Philip’s wife. That’s what Mark still calls her: his brother’s wife. Because in God’s eyes, she still was. So John, be practical. You’re getting nowhere. They love each other, after all. And love can’t be wrong, can it? Let Herod have what he wants. Let him go to hell. You did your job. He had his chance. Locusts and wild honey may not be steak and potatoes, but it beats being in prison. So relax. Dial it back. Easy.

Easy, but not good. To love your neighbor as yourself meant that John had to speak. I’m sure it was tempting, to just stay quiet. You know it. I know it. From all the times we should speak but don’t. But this was John’s vocation, from his conception, when the angel Gabriel came to Zechariah in the temple and told him that his son would prepare the way of the Lord; that he would be the promised forerunner of the Messiah. Which means to show people their sin, so he could then proclaim to them their Saviour. Because if you don’t think you need saving, you don’t care if there’s a Saviour. So John could not not speak. This was not just what he did, it’s who he was. So he spoke, even if it meant hardship. Even if it mean prison. Even if it meant death. Which, in the end, it did. So John would subdue his flesh and what he wanted. He would remain in prison if it meant Herod could be set free. He would preach repentance so that he could preach Christ. So that not just Herod - but all his household, too - might be saved.

Herod, though, had the opposite problem. He could not, would not, subdue his flesh. (Which sounds very much like our world today, does it not?) Herod took what he wanted - even his brother’s wife. He drank too much and spouted off promises he would later regret. At least he had the integrity to keep that promise, even if it was only to save his own face. Herod did not love his neighbor as himself. Herod just loved himself. So he hurt his neighbor, his brother. He hurt his brother’s wife. He hurt his kingdom. And finally he hurt John, lopping off his head.

But a glorious inheritance was waiting for John, as we heard in the reading from Ephesians today. What he did not receive on earth, he was given now in heaven. John knew this, was sure of it, that this earthly life is not all there is, and so did what he did. Herod did not, and so did what he did. His inheritance was here and now. So hang onto it with all you have.

This is not new. Or news. There are lots of Herods today, people taking what they want, thinking only of here and now. And there were prophets before John who preached like John, because there were people before Herod who lived like Herod. Sin is the selfishness and self-centeredness that lives in us all. That does not want to love my neighbor as myself, but wants my neighbor to love me as I love myself. So God sent prophets. Lots of ‘em! Like Amos, who we also heard from today. 

Amos’ message was a simple one. God has a plumb line. Now, what’s that? everyone here under the age of at least 20 - maybe 30 - is wondering! A plumb line was simply a weight on the end of a string, and it was used to determine if what you were building was straight, vertically. So if the plumb line went like this (arm straight up and down) and your building went like this (arm at an angle), something isn’t right. And hint: it’s not the plumb line! And if you keep going like that, building like that, you’re going to end up with a leaning Tower of Pisa . . . if you’re lucky! More probable is that you end up with no building at all, but what used to be a building but is now a pile of rubble. 

But you don’t have to believe the plumb line. You can claim that your building is fine and the plumb line is wrong. Or you can just ignore it and hope or assume that everything will still be fine. It’s not very smart to do either of those things, but you can if you want. And that’s what the people in Amos’ day were doing, and it’s what Herod was doing, it’s what people today do, and it’s what we do, too, when we hear the plumb line of God’s Word, when we hear that our lives aren’t what they should be, but are leaning, tottering, but we keep going the way we’re going. Keep doing what we’ve been doing. Thinking either the plumb line is wrong, God’s Word is wrong. Or, that even if it’s right, I’m just a little off. My life isn’t going to fall. My life isn’t going to crumble. Thing is . . . a little wrong now leads to a lot wrong later. And look around, look at yourself . . . if you see a mess, do you really think it’s because the plumb line was wrong?

The powers that be accused Amos of conspiring against them. No, Amos is for you. And Amos basically said, you think I want to do this? My life was fine. I was a herdsman and a dresser of sycamore figs. I was content. My life was peaceful. But God said do this. God sent me. God put me here. Because God loves you. Despite all you’ve done. He only wants good for you. The kingdom is going to fall. Jeroboam will be toppled. Repent before it is too late. But they told Amos to go away. They didn’t want to hear him. He was dangerous. Dangerous to them and their way of life and what they wanted. A lot like John was to Herod.

And like the Word of God is still today. It’s dangerous to how sinful people want to live and what sinful people want to do. But maybe it’s how we want to live and what we want to do that’s what’s really dangerous, our crooked lives not only hurting ourselves, but hurting others, too. And we realize, sometimes too late, that the plumb line was right all along.

But even if your life is a pile of rubble - a big pile, or little piles here and there - here’s the good news: it’s not too late! Even for Herod the beheader! He got to see Jesus before he was crucified. God’s love and long suffering and desire to save all is far greater than we can think or imagine. Which is good news for me! You, too. If we’re honest. If we admit that it’s not the plumb line that’s wrong, it’s me. For that stress you feel, that worry that haunts you, that uncertainty the plagues you, that doubt that nags you, that fear that keep you up at night - those are all signs and manifestations that your building, your life, isn’t plumb, isn’t right. That you’re leaning and about to totter. That your sin is pulling you down. Or maybe already has.

If only there was a way to rebuild, or to resurrect my life! Oh wait - there is! For the Lord who sent Amos and John and all the prophets and apostles, has Himself come to us, in the flesh, to enter into the pile of our sin and death and resurrect us. Raise us up with Him to a new life. If it seems strange to us that God would allow His chosen forerunner to be beheaded in prison, how much more that He sent His Son to die for us - for sinners like us - on the cross! But send Him He did, and die He did, and rise He did - that we might, too. Because there was no other way. And you realize that what we are singing in the Gradual is right: Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! Which is to say: how amazing, deep, and endless His love and forgiveness.

His love and forgiveness that is here in words of absolution, that is here in the new life He raises up in baptism, that is here with the food He feeds us with that doesn’t just nourish us here for a while and pass through our bodies, but which feeds that new baptismal life that not even death can topple. And still He is speaking, His Word still the plumb line, to show us our unstraightness, our unrightness, our unrighteousness, and show us His righteousness and be our righteousness. That the stress, worry, uncertainty, doubt, fear, sin, and death we feel and have not swallow us up, but be swallowed up by Him! That we live now by faith, with confidence, and at peace.

That’s how John lived, even locked up in Herod’s prison. Those walls, so big and strong to the world, were nothing to God. He kept His prophet to the end, and in the end, took Him home, where He is not headless, but sings with the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven. 

Which is true for you, too. Sometimes we lose our heads - our sin, our anger, our bitterness, our lust, our greed, making us crazy. Sometimes maybe we lose our heads when someone else bites them off! Or sometimes we get crushed under someone else’s sin, or feel the steely wrath of their merciless words. But here we are not headless. Here we are raised. Here we are forgiven. Here we, too, sing with the angels and archangels and John and Amos and Paul and all the company of heaven, to the one who fills us with His life and love. We sing holy, holy, holy - that’s who He is and what He is. And then hosanna, save us! That’s what He does. On the cross, through the empty tomb, and from font, pulpit, and altar today. That with John and Paul, we know there is a glorious inheritance waiting for us. He has given us His Spirit as a guarantee.

And with that we leave this place not the same as when we came. For here you receive. New life, new love, a new song. That in all your life and all your words, the Gospel shine forth. Which is to say, Jesus shines forth. Jesus, Priceless Treasure (LSB #743). The one who will be there when all earthly treasure goes away. The one who will be there when your life goes away. The one who will be there when this world goes away. He will not go away. Lo, I am with you always, He said, to the end of the age (Matthew 28:20). And we will be with Him after that. 

So while it may be true that if John wanted to save his head, all he had to do was shut his mouth. But here is your truth: if you want to save your life, open your mouth and confess your sin. Open your mouth and confess His Name. Open your mouth and eat and drink this food of immortality. And then, no matter what happens to your head, or life, you live. For your life is in Christ. 

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