Sunday, September 30, 2018

Saint Michael and All Angels Sermon

Jesu Juva

“A Fight to the Finish”
Text: Matthew 18:1-10; Daniel 10:10-14; 12:1-3;
Revelation 12:7-12

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

Thems fightin’ words! The words we heard today. They’re fighting words. Words that tell us of the angels of God fighting for us. For the church. For Christians. Against the great dragon, the ancient serpent, satan, and the angels that follow him. It is a battle, a war, that began in heaven, but has now come down to earth. So woe to you, O earth and sea, O church and Christian. The battle is on. Against you. For if satan cannot take down God, then he’s going to try to rob Him of what is most dear to Him - and that’s you. And the shorter his time gets, the closer to the end we get, the more he’s going to rage and fight. 

So we call the church on earth the Church Militant. The Opening Hymn we sang today sounded very militant. A good wedding of text and tune, conveying the focus of this day. For although he lost the battle in heaven and has been cast to the earth, and although Jesus stripped him of his weapons against us, defeating sin and death on the cross for us, still satan isn’t going to give up. He’s going to fight until the very last second, until the final horn, the last trumpet, until he and death and the grave are finally cast into the lake of fire, never to return. So we shouldn’t expect peace and rest as long as we live on the battlefield. We need to be on guard, and expect to be attacked.

So how good to know that we fight not alone. That the angels of God - like the angel on the cover of the bulletin today - are fighting for us. They are able to go toe-to-toe, mano-a-mano, with satan and his minions. We cannot. We’re not able. So we have protection. God’s own Secret Service.

And while that’s good news, we also need to know that that kind of warfare . . . that’s not the only way satan fights. Warfare changes and adapts. And spiritual warfare too. There is now, for example, cyber warfare, which seeks to attack us from the inside out. And satan does too. He uses the virus of sin that is in us, to lure us into sin and away from God; away from our protection. Like click bait on our computers, he makes sin look good, or at least harmless, so that we click on it, so that we do it. Though on a short leash, though in a steely cage (as our opening hymn put it), he invites us in to his cage, to play, making himself look good, or at least harmless. Tempting us into the danger. 

Think about it: what steely cages is satan tempting you into with him, making you think them not cages that confine and imprison, but that protect you? Maybe the steely cage of pride to protect you from having to humble yourself and repent and admit you were wrong. Maybe the steely cage of anger and bitterness and resentment, to protect you from having to forgive and let someone else get away with what they did to you! Maybe the steely cage of lust - no condemnation in here, just pleasure! Or the steely cage of greed or entitlement - no rules, just right. Or maybe our favorite steely cage of all: the one where we get to be god, where we make the rules, we run the show, we don’t have to answer to anybody, we don’t have to obey parents, where we can make things exactly as we want them to be.

C’mon in! Make yourself comfortable. What . . . those bars? Nah, don’t worry about those. They’re for your protection, they’re good things. Relax. Enjoy!

But before you get too comfortable in there, hear again what Jesus said in the Holy Gospel today: whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.  . . .  And if your hand or your foot causes you to sin . . . and if your eye causes you to sin . . . cut them off, tear it out and throw them away. It is better for you to enter life with one hand, one foot, one eye than with [a whole body] to be thrown into the hell of fire.

Better to be maimed than to live in one of those steely cages that maybe look good, sound good, but are really of sin and death. Better! We shouldn’t think of sin so lightly . . .

So in this battle, this battle for hearts and minds, we need special weapons. Heavenly weapons on earth. And so as we heard in the reading from Revelation, against the lures and temptations of satan stands the Word of God, and against his accusations against us stands the blood of the Lamb. The Word of truth and the blood of forgiveness. The baptism, the preaching, the absolution, and the meal that are the power of God, giving us the victory over satan and his steely cages. Because in these weapons is Jesus, the very Son of God. The Jesus who came down from heaven to fight for us. Who went into the wilderness and fought for us. And then who hung on the cross with the millstone of our sin hung around His neck, and gave His hands and feet and eyes and His whole body into death for us. That He take what we deserve, and we get what’s His - freedom and life. Jesus entered our steely cages of sin and death and then burst out, so that they be able to hold us no longer.

And here, too, in this fight, the fight for our hearts and minds, the angels are helping us. For they are not only fighters, but also messengers and worshippers. The angels, too, speak the Word of God when they are instructed so to do. Speaking to Mary, to Joseph, to the shepherds, and more. Proclaiming, preaching the forgiveness, peace, life, and freedom that the Son of God has come to provide. 

But they are worshipers, too. And they help us to worship, to receive the gifts and weapons of God. The Scriptures tell us that they worship God night and day, crying out Holy, Holy, Holy (Isaiah 6). And they join us here in our worship, as you hear each Sunday, that we are not alone, but with angels, and archangels, and all the company of heaven we gather. And we sing the song of the angels, joining our voices to theirs when we sing Holy, Holy, Holy. And the Word proclaimed here, the forgiveness given here, the blood poured into you here, is fighting for you. Is Jesus fighting for you. Driving away the evil one and bringing you out of the steely cage you crawled back into this week. Freeing you to live.

For really, this is the protection you need. The bars of the steely cage are not the protection you need, but the prison you don’t. The Word of God and the blood of the Lamb are true weapons and the power of God. They may not look like much, and satan certainly wants you to think they aren’t much, but don’t fall for his lies and deception. Satan cannot win a shoot out with God. They only way he can win is for these weapons to stay holstered. For your eyes and ears and mouths and hearts to be closed to the Word of God and the blood of the Lamb. 

So it is good, too, that we not only have the angels fighting for us and helping us, but that we have each other. The church. That we speak to each other the Word of truth. That we encourage one another, confess to one another, forgive one another, and warn one another. That we point out the steely cages for what they are, and join together to receive the Word of God and the blood of the Lamb. We need that. We need each other. Because satan’s not going to give up, and his time is short. But we need not fear him. For the victory belongs to us. For as we heard from Daniel: And those who are wise shall shine like the brightness of the sky above; and those who turn many to righteousness, like the stars forever and ever

So parents, teach your children, especially model repentance and forgiveness for them, and know that you are children too, of God. And children, obey your parents, and forgive them, too. Christians, speak the Word of God to one another, and pray for one another. Be there for others and receive their help. Don’t keep the weapons of God holstered! Fill the world with His Word, with His forgiveness, with His love. 

It won’t be easy. You will get attacked. There will be scars. As we also heard from Daniel: there shall be a time of trouble, such as never has been since there was a nation till that time. But at that time your people shall be delivered. The wounds you receive will be healed. They will not lead to death but to life. For that is the promise of Jesus’ scars - the scars on His once-dead-but-now-living hands and feet and side. That He is victorious. That your sins are forgiven. That you will rise from death. That you will live forever. That’s what Jesus promises. What can your steely cage give you?

So today, we thank God for His angels. Those fighters, messengers, and worshipers God sends to help us. But don’t thank them for their service - they don’t want your thanks. They want you only to thank the one who created them and you, and who, as we prayed earlier: ordained and constituted the service of angels and men in a wonderful order. Thank and praise the one who came and fought for you on the cross and died for you, that you who die might live forever. The angels are the Secret Service and want to stay that way. For it is Jesus who saves you, not them. It is Jesus who died for you, not them. And so it is Jesus they proclaim and want proclaimed, not them. 

So we will. We’ll now gather around the altar with the angels, we’ll join their hymn of praise, and we’ll receive the body and blood of Jesus, and His victory over the steely cages of sin and death. 

And then on the Last Day, when Jesus comes again with all these same angels, we’ll rejoice with them then as we do now. Only then what we cannot now see will be revealed. And the Church Militant will be the Church Triumphant, finally at rest and peace, forever.

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

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Pentecost 18 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Great in God’s Eyes”
Text: Mark 9:30-37 (James 3:13-4:10; Jeremiah 11:18-20)

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

The disciples were arguing about who was the greatest. They weren’t talking about how Jesus fed over 5,000 people with just five loaves of bread and two fish. They weren’t discussing how Jesus expelled that unclean spirit they could not. They weren’t trying to figure out what Jesus meant when He told them that He was going to be delivered - handed over, betrayed - into the hands of men and then killed, but that after three days He would rise. Nope. None of that. When faced with news of Jesus’ death, their minds went to who among them would be the greatest. It became all about them.

But before you cast aspersions on the disciples, let’s know that we do this too. 

A doctor comes to us with bad news about a loved one; they do not have much longer to live. After the initial shock and sadness, thoughts often turn to other things, like the inheritance. How much will I get? And how often is there fighting and arguing over how things will be divided. It can become all about me.

Or, a co-worker is fired. But instead of worrying about his family . . . will I get his office? I wonder if I can get her clients? It becomes all about me.

Or, one of your teammates gets injured - maybe I can get his spot! It’s all about me.

It can happen in the church, too. Pastors can fall into this trap. When the church grows or is doing well, it’s because of me! Or, if the church is struggling - it’s because of me. Or, another church, a bigger church, a fancier church, a more prestigious church, needs a new pastor. I wonder if I could get that? It’s all about me.

Or with the people in the church. The church should do what I like, what I want. I should get more recognition for what I do. It can be all about me.

How is it with you? How do you fall into this trap? Because we all do. It’s part of our sinful human nature. It’s just that some of us hide it better than others.

So Jesus asks them what they were talking about; but He already knew. He knew what was in their hearts. He knows what’s in our hearts. They don’t answer. They all look down at the ground. They’re like dogs with their tails between their legs. Their faces are bursting with shame. 

Now, again, before we cast aspersions on the disciples, let’s acknowledge their faith - they know Jesus’ kingdom is real, that they were onto something special here. They just weren’t thinking about it in the right way yet. For you can’t think about the kingdom of God like you think about things in the world. If you do, you’re going to get it wrong. And the disciples were getting it wrong. As we sometimes do.

So Jesus sits them down and has a real “come to Jesus” meeting with them. And notice - He doesn’t tell them they’re wrong. He doesn’t tell them it’s wrong to want to be great, to be first. But they’re thinking about it the wrong way. Success with Jesus, success in the kingdom of God, is not climbing up, it’s climbing down. If you want to be first, be the last. If you want to great, be the least.

It’s what Jesus did, after all. He came down from heaven and was born and laid in a manger. He avoided the crowds who wanted to praise Him and make Him an earthly kind of king. And He died not a hero’s death, but the death of a criminal. Not in order to be great, but because He was great. Because this is how greatness looks, this is how greatness acts, this is how greatness thinks in the kingdom of God.

So if this is not how you are looking and acting and thinking, repent. But repent of the right thing! Of this: not that what you’re doing is wrong, but that what you’re believing is wrong. That you think you have to make yourself great, when you already are. Because everything Jesus did He did not as an example to you, to show you how to do it. He did it for you. To make you great. And if the Son of God comes down from heaven to live for you and die for you, to forgive you and raise you, to make you a child of God and promise you a life and a kingdom that will never end (and He did!) . . . you gonna do better than that? You gonna get greater than that? Really? But it’s how we think, isn’t it? Because we don’t believe. Because we’re not thinking right about greatness. Because we’re going after the wrong kind of greatness.

And greatness in this world is not all it’s cracked up to be anyway. What’s great today is discarded tomorrow. Think of the first video games and compare them to today’s! And who is great today is forgotten tomorrow. When I speak to the youth in confirmation about Bill Clinton, a president of the United States not that long ago, they don’t know who I’m talking about. Or, people who were considered great in the past aren’t just forgotten, but are even considered criminals today - just think of all the Confederate generals whose names are being taken off buildings and whose statues are being covered, defaced, or destroyed.

But child of God is a great that doesn’t go away. A great that not even death can take away from you. Your trophies will fall apart, your accomplishment will be forgotten, your wealth will go to someone else. But child of God you will always be.

And so Jesus takes a child and puts him in the midst of the disciples. And He says (and I’m paraphrasing here): You wanna be great? Start here. And end here. This is where you’ll find me. Down, not up. Last, not first. Least, not great in the eyes of the world. 

And I absolutely love the picture on the cover of the bulletin today! I don’t know how old the child Jesus put in the midst of them was - we’re not told - but this one, the one in this picture, I think is perfect. Not even up to their waists, probably a bit wobbly on her feet, holding a stick she found on the ground. She wasn’t worried about greatness - she had a stick! That fancy new toy is okay - but the box it came in is great! Children see that penny on the ground, that rock, that bug. Things we think aren’t important or great, and so maybe we think the children that see them aren’t so important or great.

But according to Jesus, there is nothing greater that we could do and be. You wanna be great? Receive this child in my name. And we do when we baptize our children in His name. And we do when we baptize adults in His name because - did you ever notice - we use the exact same liturgy. We baptize adults as if they were children. Because it doesn’t matter how old you are, it’s the same baptism, the same gift, the same name. And it’s great. Giving all Jesus’ greatness to that child or adult-child. 

So you want to be great? Remember your baptism. That there in those waters Jesus received you and made you great because He made you a child of God and you can’t get any greater than that. And repent that you keep trying (in a worldly way), and that you keep forgetting who you are.

And then this too: repent that you keep forgetting who others are as well. Are they great or lowly? Are they rich or poor? Are they homeless? It depends on how you see and think. Things may not be as they seem to us. Children see things differently, and children of God do too. That greatness isn’t measured by honor and prestige, that richness isn’t counted in dollars, and that the mansions of this world are hovels in the kingdom of heaven. So maybe we should fight and quarrel and strive and desire a bit less, and receive in Jesus’ name a bit more.

So maybe we could sum all this up with words that we sang in the Introit this morning: Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart. Some people would say that verse isn’t true, for I didn’t get that new car, or that job, or that greatness I wanted, I desired. But maybe, rather, that proves these words, because you aren’t delighting in the Lord, but in those other things - in the wrong kind of great things or greatness. The problem isn’t with the Lord, it’s with us and our desires, and what we delight in and think great. Like the disciples, we need to learn to think differently. 

And when you do, when you delight yourself in the Lord, in being His child, you’ll start to see things differently. All kinds of things. 

Because you are great in Jesus’ eyes, maybe you’ll see that the great of this world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be . . .

Because your sins are forgiven - all of them, great and small! - maybe you can forgive those who sin against you . . .

Because Jesus gave His life for you, maybe you can give your life for others . . .

The world will think you quite strange, for not acting like them, thinking like them, believing like them. They might even turn against you, as they turned against Jeremiah and Jesus and the disciples. So be it. You’re a child of God! You wanna trade that for the approval of a fleeting and fickle world?

So maybe instead we’ll come and receive the Body and Blood of the child God sent to us and put in our midst . . . who looked down at the sticks and rocks and bugs, the helpless and homeless and needy . . . and who, though great, became nothing, that we who were nothing might be great. And you are. For this child, Jesus, came for you and named you with His name, has forgiven you with His forgiveness, and feeds you with His Body and Blood. And when He comes again, He will give you even more - His kingdom.

So remember who you are. And be who you are. You just can’t get any greater than that.

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

Saturday, September 15, 2018

Pentecost 17 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Raising a Son, a Father, and You”
Text: Mark 9:14-29; James 3:1-12

(An oldie, but hopefully goodie, today. After a week with my wife away at a conference, a root canal, dental crown, and a few other extra demands thrown my way, time got away from me. So a gently reworked sermon from yesteryear this week . . . )

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

Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!

I cannot think of a better description of a Christian and of the Christian life than that. Six little words that encapsulate our lives so perfectly.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. First we need to consider the story we heard those words in today that led up to this marvelous confession.

So first, Jesus, Peter, James, and John had just come down from Jesus’ Transfiguration to rejoin the other nine disciples. Which means that while Jesus was showing His divine nature and glory to Peter, James, and John by shining like the sun and conversing with Moses and Elijah about the fact that He, God in the flesh, had come to die for the sin of the world . . . at about the same time that was happening on top of the mountain, the story we heard today was taking place at the foot of the mountain.

Now picture the scene. It had started off well. A father, concerned for his son who is in desperate need, brings his son to Jesus. Which is actually the first interesting thing to note in this story: the father says to Jesus, “I brought him to you” even though, technically and literally speaking, he didn’t. Jesus wasn’t there. But in asking the disciples to cast out the spirit who was possessing his son, he recognizes the disciples as those authorized and sent by Jesus to do these things, and so really the same as bringing his son to Jesus.

So he asks the disciples to cast out the spirit, but they are not able. And as a result an argument breaks out. An argument that apparently is drawing a great crowd. You know the kind - as voices raise to yelling and accusations start flying back and forth. But here’s the next interesting part: the boy and his father are still there! The father still worried and concerned and the son still possessed and in desperate need while the scribes and disciples - and others? - are standing around arguing. Did not! Did too! You can’t! We can! Frauds! Hypocrites!

And you can imagine Jesus, when He gets there, planting His face in His hand and sighing: “O faithless generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him to me.”

And in the embarrassed silence that settles over the crowd, Jesus puts the focus back on the child, back on his desperate need. And back to the real problem here - the faith problem, which showed itself in the scribes, the disciples, and the father. The father, the honest one here, who in confusion, in desperation, in faith, and probably on the verge of tears and at the end of his rope, finally cries out to Jesus: “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!”

He really did believe. That’s why he came. That’s why he brought his son to Jesus in the first place. And what does he believe? That Jesus can help. That Jesus wants to help. That Jesus has come to help. And yet at the same time there’s something else in him that he wrestles with - those doubts . . . that maybe he’s not worthy of Jesus help; that maybe Jesus doesn’t want to help him; that maybe he’s beyond Jesus’ help. He’s this mixed up jumble of belief and unbelief, of saint and sinner.

Just like us.

For this is really what we’re saying every time we confess our sins: Lord, I believe; help my unbelief. I believe that you are the Son of God who came to die for my sins on the cross. I believe that you have given me my faith and new life. I believe in your promise of forgiveness and that I am your child. I believe that you are blessing me and working all things for my good; that you are merciful and gracious. Yes, I believe all this.

And yet . . . I have lived this day, this week, as if I didn’t. As if everything were up to me instead of living as a child of God and trusting in my heavenly Father. As if I were in competition with others instead of seeing them as ones you have put here for me to help and care for. When trouble came I doubted your love and when it stayed I doubted your mercy. And when things were going good, I didn’t even think of you much of that time, as the one who was giving me that good.

That’s why I’ve complained and failed to thank you. That’s why my tongue which blesses you here on Sunday spoke harsh and unloving things this week. That’s why I’ve been quick to accuse and slow to forgive. That’s why I’ve rejoiced in others failures and was jealous at their success and good fortune. I believe, and yet . . . what a jumbled, mixed-up sack of belief and unbelief I am. Lord, I believe; help my unbelief. Forgive me, restore me, help me, strengthen me.

Yes, that’s what we say every time we come to Jesus in the Lord’s Prayer and pray for forgiveness. And also what we say at the beginning of every Divine Service here, when we come to Jesus through the one He authorized and sent here to speak His word of forgiveness to us. And your sins are forgiven. Not because your prayer is so good, or your pastor can do so, but because of the promise of your Saviour when after His resurrection from the dead He said to His disciples, “As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.  . . .  If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them . . .” (John 20:21-23).

So don’t overlook this fact in this story: the first person Jesus helped here was the father, who had been bruised and battered over the difficulties with his son, with the arguing of those who should have been helping him, and with his own struggles of faith. Jesus addresses him first, exposing his unbelief in order to help him, too. As He now does for you and me.

Then Jesus turns to the boy - this boy whom an unclean spirit has been trying to destroy since childhood, the father says. Or, that is to say: ever since he has been my son. You can almost hear the weariness in the father’s voice . . .

This is a picture of our situation as well - before we were the jumbled, mixed-up sack of belief and unbelief that we are. For just as Jesus spoke to that boy and gave him life, so Jesus has done for us. For in baptism, through water and the Word, Jesus rebukes the unclean spirit in each of us and raises us from being dead in sin to a new life in Him (Romans 6).

So both father and son were cleansed, released, renewed, and restored. As usual, Jesus gives even more than is asked or expected. And not by two miracles, but really by one and the same miracle: the forgiveness of sins. Forgiveness is the key. For that is the help that we need at all times and in all places - the cleanness and new life of baptism, the release from our bondage - to sin, and the return to that cleanness and new life in forgiveness. And, like the father, because our sinful nature often gets the best of us, this washing and cleansing and raising of forgiveness is not just a one time, or a weekly, or even a daily, but a continual promise. That wherever we are and whatever situation we find ourselves in, Lord, I believe; help my unbelief! is exactly what Jesus has come to do. To forgive our sin. To strengthen our faith. To give us new life.

Which is why Jesus came down from His Transfiguration and did not stay there. The transfiguration shows us that the one who hung on the cross for us was no mere man, but God Himself - the divine and glorious Son of God in human flesh. And that Son of God in human flesh would be the Son destroyed by our uncleanness. Not because it was more powerful than He, but because He put Himself there, in our place, to bear our uncleanness and so be the unclean one forsaken by His Father, and die our death. And those who were there at the cross that day - disciples, soldiers, and onlookers alike - all said (like they did in our story today), He is dead. And then this Son who raised the dead rose from the dead Himself, that joined to Him there may be new life for us too.

And that new life has been given to you, for baptism and forgiveness - like we saw with the son and his father - are like little resurrections. Both were given new life. And now Jesus comes to us and takes us by the hand and sayes arise. Arise from your unbelief; arise from your uncleanness; arise and live a new life. And rising, He now bids us come to His table to be fed by Him. That the resurrection to faith and new life given by Him be now strengthened by Him - with His own Body and Blood. That sin and uncleanness not have free reign or dominion in our lives, but that Christ now live and reign in us.

And He does. So even though Lord, I believe; help my unbelief! is our prayer and will always be our prayer as long as we live on this side of eternity, it is no longer a prayer of despair, but of confidence and hope. For as we live simultaneously as saints declared righteous and sinners who fall, it is always as dear children of God in our Saviour Jesus Christ. Our Saviour who came down from heaven to be born in our flesh, who came down from His Transfiguration to die our death, and now resurrected and ascended still comes down to you and me to help and to heal, to restore and renew, to favor and to forgive.

So do not despair, do not doubt, do not fear. Pray. Pray Lord, I believe; help my unbelief. And as He did for this father and his son, so Jesus comes to do for you.

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

Monday, September 10, 2018

Pentecost 16 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“O Lord, Ephphatha Us!”
Text: Mark 7:31-37 (James 2:1-10, 14-18; Isaiah 35:4-7a)

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

Did you ever wonder how Jesus could see and hear so much better than us? And I don’t mean just that He didn’t need glasses or hearing aids. How could Jesus see the needs of others better than we? How could Jesus hear the cries of the poor and needy better than we? How could Jesus have compassion so much better than we?

I think the answer we often give, how we often think, is that it’s because He’s God. And so as God, He will be and just be able to do things we will never be able to be and do.

Well, yes. And no.

The Bible is clear that Jesus is God. True God, as we confessed once again in the Creed this morning: God of God, Light of Light, Very God of very God

But He is the true God in human flesh. Incarnate. Or to use the words of the Creed we spoke this morning again: who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven and was incarnate by the Holy Spirit of the virgin Mary and was made man. And Jesus is a man, a human being, the Scriptures say, who is just like us in every way. He isn’t some new kind of super-being, half-man, half-god; some kind of science fiction type of being. He is the 100% true God and a 100% true man in one person. Or as the Athanasian Creed says: perfect God and perfect man

And that, in fact, is the only distinction between Jesus’ manhood and ours - He is in every way just like us, except without sin. Jesus is perfect man.

And that, I think, is the reason why He could see what we cannot see, and hear what we cannot hear, and feel what we cannot feel - not just because He was God. For although that’s true, an important point in theology is that although He is God, Jesus willingly didn’t use His power as God for Himself. He always had that power, as we heard today. He healed a man who was deaf, and you and I cannot do that. So He always had that power. But He didn’t use it for Himself. For although He could heal, He also got hungry. He also got tired. He wept. He didn’t teleport Himself or zap Himself to where He wanted to go, He walked. So He really is a true man just like you and me in every way, except without sin. 

And I think that’s important and what I want to think about a little today. Because if Jesus could see and hear and feel better than we simply because He’s God, then these are things I will never be able to do. These are God things, so, oh well, why bother? Why try? 

But if Jesus can see and hear and feel better than we not because He’s God but because He’s a true and perfect-without-sin MAN, then we see how we who are born with sin aren’t what we should be. How sin has infected us and effected us far more than we realize. That it is the sin in us that makes us blind to the needs of others. It is the sin in us that makes us deaf to the cries for help of the poor and needy. It is the sin in us that when we do see and hear them and their cries, we are . . .   sometimes? oftentimes? . . . so cold and heartless and uncompassionate toward them - looking away, pretending not to see, assuming something bad about them. That’s not an excuse, to let us of the hook; but the reality of who we are.

And so Jesus is not what we can never be - He is what we used to be! Before sin entered the world and brought us down into the depths of sin and death, corrupting our bodies, minds, hearts, and spirits.

And this sin has not just effected our relationships with each other, but with God, too. We have become blind to His working, deaf to His Word, and so utterly confused about His love and compassion for us. Not understanding His Word. Not realizing what love really is and what His love is really all about.

And so what I’ve taken a really long time here to say is this: that deaf man in the story today? That’s not just a cool story. That’s us

And that’s why - if you were here for the Sunday School opening today, when we sang Matins together - that’s why we sang the words from the psalmist that says: O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare Your praise. And it’s why we need to pray in the same way: O Lord, ephphatha me! O Lord, open my eyes, that I may see the needs of others. O Lord, open my ears, that I may hear their cries for help. O Lord, open my heart, that I may be compassionate.

But this, too: O Lord, ephphatha my eyes, that I may see my sin. O Lord, open my ears, that I may hear the truth of Your Word. O Lord, open my mouth, that I confess my sin.

And then this, too: O Lord, ephphatha my ears to hear Your Word of forgiveness. O Lord, open my eyes to see You on the cross where my sin was atoned for and my death was put to death. O Lord, open my heart to believe that You did all this for me. And then open my mouth to declare Your forgiveness to others - both speak of the forgiveness I have received, and also to forgive those who sin against me.

And then how great would it be for what we heard at the end of the story in the Holy Gospel to be true today - that we could not stop talking about Jesus. That it would be said of us: those Christians won’t stop talking about Jesus and all that He has done for them!

This is what Isaiah said would happen when God comes. When God comes, Isaiah said, with vengeance and recompense - pay back! Not against you, but to save you. Not against you, but against sin and all the way it has ravaged us. God is on your side.

But sometimes it doesn’t seem like it, does it? It seems as if the God who in Jesus saw and heard and had compassion isn’t that God anymore. We pray and it seems as if God is deaf to us. We pray and it seems like nothing happens. It seemed that way to David sometimes too, and led him to write what we sang today in the Introit: O Lord, be not deaf to me. Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy.

But then he also writes: Blessed be the Lord! For He has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy. What we sometimes think or feel isn’t the reality. Yes, He hears. The God we know in Jesus is still our God. He has not changed. He hears.

And He speaks. God is not silent either. The God who spoke ephphatha to the deaf man, opened His ears, and loosed His tongue, is the God who speaks to us still today. Not in a booming voice from heaven or words that we hear when we’re lying on our beds at night. More reliable and consistent words that those.

He speaks to us here and says: I forgive you all your sins. And they really are. Because Jesus told those He sends out to speak these words: He who hears you hears me (Luke 10:16). And while in many and various ways God spoke to His people of old by the prophets, He now in these last days has spoken to us by His Son (Hebrews 1:1-2a). And we have those words. The Scriptures. And the preaching of them. Telling us who are our Lord is and all that He has done for us and for our salvation. And teaching us who we are - who we once were, who we are now, and who we will be again.

Who we will be when sin is finally and fully removed from us. That will be in the resurrection. But started now. Started now by the Holy Spirit given you in your baptism. The Holy Spirit whose job is to make you holy. And by the words of absolution cleansing your hearts. And by the Body and Blood of Jesus placed into your mouths here at the altar. All this to make you again what you once were. To conform you to the image of the Son, of Jesus. That you begin to be like Him. On this side of the grave and eternity, you won’t be perfect man as He was. But you will begin to be like Him. To see as He saw. To hear as He hear. To have compassion as He did. And maybe even laying down your life for others as He did. Not because you have to; because it’s a rule. And not to save yourself; Jesus already did that. But because that’s who you now are, in Him. Because you are a son of God, too.

No matter who you are. For as we heard from James today, God shows no partiality. Jesus died for the sins of every person. From the guy who sleeps under the bridge at night to the guy who sleeps in the White House at night. From the woman who makes millions to the one who works at Chik-Fil-A. From the one who lives in the 21st century to the one who lived before Jesus was born. From the eskimo to the aborigine to the barbarian to the anglo-saxon. Makes no difference. For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus (Romans 3:23b-24).

Thats how you know Jesus is for you, and what He has done is for you. If the Word of God said some people or even most people but not all people, then you couldn’t be sure which group you fell into - that this word is for you. But it says all people. And so that’s you. Jesus died for you. His forgiveness is for you. His life and salvation is for you. His Baptism and Supper are for you. And through all these He ephphathas you. And most importantly, ephphathas the grave for you. That won’t be your end. For his life is for you, too.

And that you have received. Now. That you see and hear and speak. Now. That though you are not what you once were, you be again. Even now. In Jesus. The Word made flesh. For you. The Word who speaks for you and to you. The Word who ephphathas you. Now. And you are. 

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

Sunday, September 2, 2018

Pentecost 15 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Put on the Armor of God”
Text: Ephesians 6:10-20 (Mark 7:14-23)

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

Put on the whole armor of God.

So said St. Paul. So I started thinking about armor.

In Paul’s day, the word armor would have invoked thoughts of Roman soldiers in their protective vesture - helmets, breastplates, and shields. Well-prepared for battle.

Later, in medieval times, there were suits of armor, covering a person from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. An impenetrable covering to protect them.

Now days we have armor-plating on our tanks and warships, and the presidential limousine is armor-plated all around, providing a protective cocoon for the president wherever he goes.

Armor has a long history. To protect us against the enemies trying to hurt us.

But what if the enemy isn’t outside of you but inside of you? Then what? The armor does you no good. It could, in fact, hurt you. Trapping you inside, or giving you a false sense of security - thinking that you’re safe and so letting your guard down and making yourself, really, more vulnerable than ever.

So not just armor is needed, but the right armor. And to know the right armor, you have to know the enemy rightly. To know how to defend. To know what to defend.

And so for us, as Christians, the right armor is the armor of God, because the enemy, Paul goes on to say, is not one that any armor of this world can defend against. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. The armor of this world can protect the body, but only the armor of God can protect the heart. 

That was the point Jesus was making in the Holy Gospel we heard today. Those words are a continuation of the Holy Gospel we heard last week, when the Pharisees were accusing the disciples of Jesus of not keeping the rules and traditions of the elders. Wrong armor, Jesus is saying. Rules and traditions - how to wash, when to wash, what to eat, and things like that - they’re not necessarily bad and maybe serve a purpose. But if you’re depending on them or others kinds of good works to protect you or save you . . . wrong armor

Because the truth is, you’re being attacked from within. It is the unclean thoughts and desires that are lurking in your heart and in your mind - evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, coveting, wickedness, deceit, sensuality, envy, slander, pride, foolishness - that are hurting you. Whether they come out in words and actions or not, they are doing their awful work. They are consuming you, corrupting you, corroding you, from the inside out.

So something else is needed. A different kind of armor.

But before we move onto that, consider how we do this, too - put on the wrong kind of armor - not just the Pharisees. The Pharisees did it with their rules and regulations and traditions, thinking this was the armor they needed that would protect them. How do we do it? How do you do it? Try to protect yourself. What barriers or wrong armor do we put up around us to keep those we think are hurting us out? Physical barriers, maybe. But more often, I think, emotional ones, walls around our hearts - excuses to protect our hurting conscience, attacking others to defend our pride, justifications to keep out accusations or condemnation. And what about denial? Or maybe we just separate ourselves and go into our own little cocoons. 

But it doesn’t work, does it? And then what? The barriers and wrong armor we’ve put up and put on then trap us instead of protect us. Our cocoon becomes our prison. Trapping us in despair, in doubt, in unbelief, in the very sin we were trying to protect ourselves from.

No, this kind of armor doesn’t work. Romans soldiers were eventually defeated. There’s a reason suits of armor aren’t used anymore. Armor-plating cannot protect against electronic warfare. And presidents and other public figures have often been brought down how? From the sin within. From what has come from their own hearts.

So time, maybe, to try something new? 

Put on the armor of God.

So I was thinking about armor, and this kind of armor, and a story popped into my head. The story of David and Goliath (1 Samuel 17). Do you remember that story? David went out to fight the Philistine giant Goliath who seemed invincible. (And who, by the way, had his own armor to protect him.) Yet David defeated him with just a stone and a sling. Goliath had mocked him for coming out with such weak weapons, but David knew what Goliath didn’t know: the right armor.

For you see, that’s not the whole story. Because something happened earlier in that story that is not a small detail, but actually pretty important in this context. When Saul finally decided to let David go out and fight Goliath, the first thing he did was tell David to put on his armor - Saul’s armor, the king’s armor, which was the best armor - to protect himself. And David tried, but it didn’t fit. David was still a boy and Saul was a man of war. So David took it off. He wouldn’t go into battle with this kind of armor, but with the armor of faith and truth. The armor of trusting in the Lord and His promises, rather than trusting in the strength of man.

It seemed stupid. It seemed foolish. It seemed like David was going to his death.

But David knew the battle wasn’t really a physical one, but a spiritual one. Would they trust God and His promises to them? Would God fight for them? Only by taking OFF Saul’s armor could David’s put ON God’s armor. For the armor that looked strong would, in truth, make David weak. But the armor that looked weak, made David strong.

So what about you and your life? 

Put on the armor of God.

The truth is, the Good News is, you already have this armor! It was given you in your baptism when you were clothed - armored! - with Christ and His righteousness, His truth, His life, His forgiveness. The devil has nothing that can pierce that armor. He tried. He unleashed everything he had against Jesus, in His life and in His death . . . and so on that third day when the seal on the grave was broken and the tomb empty, he had nothing left. He was defeated. He was left empty-handed. His prey had gotten away.

And clothed - armored! - with Christ and His righteousness, His truth, His life, and His forgiveness, the devil has no hold on you either. 

So to put on the armor of God, as Paul says here, is to put on Christ. To live in the promises of Christ given you in your baptism. 

Which means not to deny your sin, or deny that what you’re doing is sin, or try to justify your sin - wrong armor! But confess your sin, because you have the promise of forgiveness. Right armor.

Which means not to go along with the opinions of others or what the world or culture today says is good and right - wrong armor! That might seem safer for the moment, but the opinions and thoughts and things of this world come and go, change, and will finally leave you wondering if there’s any truth at all! But the Word of the Lord and the truth of His Word last forever (1 Peter 1:24-25; Isaiah 40:6-8). Right armor.

To put on the armor of God means not to rely on yourself and what you can do - wrong armor! But rely on Christ and what He has done for you. Right armor.

It means not to hide or separate yourself from others - wrong armor! That’s armor that just causes fear and despair and bitterness to be locked up in your heart. But do good to those who persecute you, forgive them, pray for those who hurt you, love those who hate you. Right armor

It means not to try to clean yourself up and come before God as somebody He should love - wrong armor! But rather come as the sinner you are and pray (as we did in the Introit today): Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me (Psalm 51:10). For whenever God creates, it is always from nothing. In the beginning, God spoke and it came to be. And now, too, God speaks and it is. The Word preached, proclaimed, washed, and fed to us. Making us new creations. Right armor.

You get it?

It’s not easy. Paul was in chains as he wrote these words. But clothed with Christ, armored with Christ, he knew he was safe. He knew he was secure. He knew he was in the right armor. Even when the sword came down upon his neck and his now bodyless head fell to the ground, His armor - the righteousness, truth, life, and forgiveness of Christ - protected him and saved him. Death just took him from this life to the next.

That’s pretty good armor!

So what do you think? Want that kind of armor? You already have it! You are a baptized child of God. So do not be afraid, even if you’re staring down a Goliath of a problem or issue in your life! Take off the armor you’ve been relying on, that’s weighing you down and not really working anyway. And put on the armor of God. The armor of Christ - His Word, His forgiveness, His life. That’s the right armor. Maybe it looks weaker and you think it weaker. But if so, then remember these words, also from the apostle Paul: when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Corinthians 12:10).

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