Sunday, January 27, 2019

Epiphany 3 Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Run or Rejoice?”
Text: Luke 4:16-30

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

Imagine a place that is cold and silent toward pain and human suffering. Try to envision a place where everything is driven by self-indulgence. Life is all about financial profit, business transactions, and the bottom line. Countless people are being dehumanized. In this place there are no prayers, liturgies, hymns, or sermons. Mercy is a rare commodity. Where is this God-forsaken place?* Some big city filled with driven people? A communist country that has outlawed religion? The 21st century American public square? Actually, it is where the prophet Isaiah lives. It is 8th century BC Jerusalem. It is the world Isaiah decribes in the last 11 chapters of his book.

The leaders (56:10), he says, will not call this community to “maintain justice and do righteousness” (56:1). The so-called watchmen who should be doing this are in reality “wild beasts” (56:9) and “dogs” (56:10-11), more intent on the next party than divine correction (56:12). There is idolatry (57:3-13a), the people are not being called to repentance, they fast for a show but show no mercy, there is fighting and violence (58:4), slavery (58:9), accusations (58:9), and lying (58:10). And that’s just for starters . . .

For Isaiah then goes on to decribe just how cold-hearted this community really is in his 59th chapter - one of the darkest chapters in all of Scripture, filled with all kinds of words describing the darkness: iniquity, sin, defilement, deceit, wickedness, disorder, vanity, turmoil, violence, evil, destruction, devastation, and crookedness. And what of justice, salvation, and righteousness? They are far, far away, Isaiah says. And God is, as you might guess, appalled. No one in intervening. No one is stepping up. No one stopping it. It’s the new normal in Israel. And it’s very, very dark indeed.

But then Isaiah gets to chapter 60 and he changes his tune. Arise, shine, for your light has come (60:1), he says. We heard those words on the day of Epiphany. Light is coming into this deep darkness. And today, we hear, it comes in a most unexpected way, and in a most unexpected place - it comes in church, in Nazareth. It comes when one Sabbath, one of the sons of Nazareth, a boy who grew up there, is invited to read the Scripture appointed for that day. He unrolls the scroll of Isaiah, finds chapter 61, and reads the words we heard today:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives
    and recovering of sight to the blind,
        to set at liberty those who are oppressed,
        to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

And then he says - he, Joseph’s son, named Jesus - he says: Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing. Or in other words, into a dark and evil world, He is the one intervening. He is the one stepping up. He is the one who came to stop it. He is the light that has come to shatter this darkness. That there be a new new normal. And not just in Israel, but in all the world. A new new normal of mercy, forgiveness, and righteousness.

The people in Nazareth thought that was pretty cool. They always knew God would come through for them, and they liked hearing it from the mouth of one of their own. Until, that is, Jesus started telling them who the poor, the captive, and the oppressed were. That it wasn’t them! And He starts listing Gentiles . . .

We only hear of two - I wonder if Jesus was going to go on. But as if to show the truth of what Jesus was saying, instead of repenting, the darkness spews out from within them! Filled with wrath, they rise up and drive Jesus out of the town, and would have thrown Him down the cliff to His death if Jesus hadn’t left. He would die, and at the hands of His own people. But not here, not now, not like this. 

But you see, that’s the thing about the light. You don’t know there are cockroaches in your kitchen until you turn the light on. And you don’t know the extent of your sin and just how deep the darkness in your heart until the light is shined on it. And that that description of 8th century BC Israel could indeed be a description of the darkness of our world today, and of the sin darkening our own hearts as well.

So you can get mad, deny your sin, proclaim your innocence (or your at-least-not-as-bad-as-the-next-guy-ness), and toss Jesus and His Word out, like the people in church at Nazareth that day . . . or you can repent.

If you do the first, you can go on living your new normal. Honestly, you’ll probably get along better with the world, and when you die everyone will say what a good and nice person you were (even if you weren’t), as you begin your new life of eternal darkness. 

If you do the second, though, and repent, then you become one of those people Jesus came for. The spiritually poor He has come to make rich. The blind to whom He has come to give sight, to see things as they really are, as God sees them. The captive to sin that He has come to set free, and the oppressed He has come to fight for. For when you repent, Jesus says to you: I forgive you all your sins, all your darkness, all your failure to love God and to love your neighbor as yourself. I forgive you! Go, you are free. 

That’s the kind of freedom and life Jesus has come to bring. The people in the Nazareth of Jesus’ day didn’t know of such freedom. To them, religion had become all about dos and don’ts, what you could do on the Sabbath and what you couldn’t - man-made rules trumping mercy and love. People were treated as commodities - they were bought and sold, owned and used, and then thrown away. Like they were going to throw away Jesus, when He wasn’t the kind of preacher they wanted Him to be.

Maybe not. But He was the kind of Saviour they needed Him to be. A Saviour not just for some, but for all. Not to confirm you in your sin, but to bear the sins of all, to die for the sins of all, to call all to repentance, and to proclaim and give forgiveness to all. A Saviour to provide a great freedom that would last not just for a time, but forever. A great freedom to live no matter who you are or where you live. A new new normal, which we see after the church is anointed with the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. Peter and the others went from being confused, denying, and frightened, to preachers and baptizers of great boldness. For they had been set free to forgive and serve and mercy and love. Free in Jesus who had done all this for them. And for you. 

Now, did you catch the last line of the Gospel today? It’s kind of easy to overlook; just a tiny detail. But it’s more than that, I think. But passing through their midst, He went away. Do you realize what a sad statement that is? Jesus was there, for them, but they didn’t want Him. Not that Him, anyway. So He went away. Left. He had gifts for them, but they didn’t want His gifts. 

And Jesus has gifts for you. He has come here to this church, today, and has spoken to you. And not only spoken to you, but shined the light of His love upon you, washing you, forgiving you, feeding you, life-ing you.You, when you’re poor because you’ve spent your life chasing what doesn’t last. You, when you’re captive to your sinful urges and desires. You, when you’re blinded by the glory of this world and deafened by the so-called wisdom of this world. You, when you’re oppressed by satan, and by others satan uses in his oppressive regime in this dark world. Today this Scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing for Jesus is here with all His gifts for you. To shine upon you. To proclaim to you a year, a lifetime, an eternity of the Lord’s favor.

For this one here for you, yes, is Joseph’s son, but also the Son of God. The anointed one. The light of the world. The Lamb of God come to offer Himself as the sacrifice for your sin. The healer of lepers, the provider for widows - the source of every blessing. Come to bless you. To shine upon you.

And having been so blessed and having received such gifts, anointed by His Spirit in your baptism, you now get to live these gifts and give these gifts to others. To the poor, the oppressed, the captive, those in need of mercy. To live this new new normal. 

It might not be easy, though. You might not be staring down a cliff with hands ready to thrown you off it, but the light of forgiveness does shine a light on sin. A life of mercy does shine a light on oppression. Proclaiming the truth does shine a light on what is not true. And nobody wants to admit there are cockroaches in their kitchen! But when the light goes on, the truth is revealed . . .

So know that, but don’t let it stop you. For God has created you, redeemed you, sanctified you, and put you where you are for this. To live this new new normal life. It is, as St. Paul says, a more excellent way. It is the way of love. The love of God for you that has filled your heart, raised you to life, and set you free. And though the road be tough, the rewards few, the need overwhelming, the resources scarce, and it be easy to get discouraged by the darkness, don’t. Not even when staring death in the face, or staring down the steep sides of a newly dug grave. For just as with Jesus, so our graves, too, will one day be empty, when your Lord who passed through death to life again, passed through the darkness to light again, comes again to raise you to life and light again. When the darkness of sin and the darkness of death and the darkness of evil will be forever scattered, overcome, and banished, and there be only light and life forever.

So Arise, shine, for your light has come. That’s the message of Epiphany. The message proclaimed by Jesus that day in Nazareth. The message proclaimed here. Don’t be a cockroach and run from the light! Arise! Shine! Rejoice in it and grow in it. 

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


[* The words in italics in the first three paragraphs of this sermon are quotations or very close paraphrases from the article “A People Mover: Yahweh’s Servant in Is. 61:1-3” by Reed Lessing in The Mercy of God in Cross of Christ: Essays on Mercy in Honor of Glenn Merritt (St. Louis: LCMS, 2016), 35-45. Some other thoughts in this sermon were taken or derived from that article as well.]

Monday, January 21, 2019

Epiphany 2 / Sanctity of Life Sunday Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Those People”
Text: John 2:1-11; Isaiah 62:1-5; 1 Corinthians 12:1-11

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

That person, those people, don’t matter. Maybe you don’t say that, but have you ever felt it, thought it, or acted like it?

That person doesn’t matter, so I can belittle her, bully him, use him for a little fun even if it hurts him, or to make myself something at her expense.

Those people don’t matter. They’re not worth my bother, my time, my effort, my attention, my help. Is that why some sleep outside and go hungry? Or why so many are aborted, or mercy killed, or die alone?

Those people don’t matter. In Jesus’ day, Jews thought that of Samaritans and Samaritans of Jews. Slaves in America used to be thought of that way. Who else in our world today?

Those people don’t matter. And maybe I, or the world, would be better off without them. Babies, the elderly, the suffering, the dying, the disabled.

Those people don’t matter. But I do! Right? So . . . what can I get out of them? How can they help me? Serve me?

Those people don’t matter. Maybe you don’t say that, but do you feel it, think it, act like it? Has that attitude wormed its way into our hearts and minds and lives without our even realizing it? Or maybe you’ve ben one of those people . . .

Hard words. Hard for me to speak. Hard for you to hear. Hard for ME to hear. For my own words strike me down, convict me, too. For I have done this. You too? By my actions and by my inaction. My uncaring, negative thoughts. When I have lived as if those people don’t matter . . . or, don’t matter enough for me to do anything or be bothered. When I have lived as if those people don’t matter and the only one who does is ME.

Those people don’t matter. Words that I hope bring all of us to repentance today. But words that can bring us joy too! In this way: to know that these are words that are not and will never be uttered by God.

For the message of Sanctity of Life Sunday is that those people matter. That YOU matter. And not just matter, but are precious to God. And that, to use the words of Isaiah, your God rejoices over you! And that you will be called by a new name - His name! - which He gives to you in Holy Baptism. Which seems incredible, knowing who we are, knowing our sin. But true nonetheless.

For those people - and you - were created by God, in His image. Knit together by Him in the womb (Psalm 139:14-15). Fearfully, wonderfully, and specially made. Even if sin has made us less than God created us and intended us to be.

Those people - and you - were redeemed by God. By the blood of God Himself, in the person of His Son, shed on the cross for you. He laid down His life for yours. He traded places with you. If you didn’t matter, He wouldn’t have done that. 

Those people - and you - matter. No matter how old or how young, born or unborn, able or disabled, black, white, or some other color, Christian or non-Christian, big sinner or little sinner, Jew or Samaritan, Democrat or Republican, homeless or wealthy, slave or free, man or woman. 

Those people - and you - matter. So Jesus came. For you. For them. Even to a wedding. Which seems like a waste of His busy and limited time, doesn’t it? But that bride and groom that day mattered, and teach us something about how much we matter. For Jesus has come, as Isaiah said, to marry you. To be the bridegroom for His bride, the Church.

For you need a bridegroom who will provide for you. And not just here in this life, but in the next as well. A bridegroom who will love and cherish you for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, and one that not even death can part you from. So He entered death and defeated death, because you matter. To give you the life you need.

And in this life, you need purification from your sin, but six stone water jars is not enough. In fact, all the water in the world is not enough! But water combined with His Word is water that is not just water anymore, but becomes wine that is needed at a wedding, and becomes baptism today - the rich and full washing away of sin that is needed today by you and me. 

And you need joy in the midst of this world of sin and struggle and sadness, but not the joy that comes from much wine, that lasts only for a while and then leaves you hung over, but joy that comes from the wine that forgives your sins! Wine that with the Word of Jesus is not just wine anymore, but the Blood of your Saviour, the blood that forgives you and strengthens you, along with the bread that is not just bread anymore, but His Body.

For you matter. And this - Jesus’ first sign - teaches us that. For it seems like a strange first sign, doesn’t it? Of all the first signs that Jesus could have done, this? But it sets the stage, helps us understand all the rest. Jesus’ hour had not yet come, but it was coming. The hour when Jesus would do a far greater thing than change water into wine. The hour He would change death into life with His resurrection. That would happen on the third day, too. Just like this miracle/sign.

For you matter. Your life matters to Him. Your death matters to Him. And the life and death of those people, too, (whoever they are) matter to Him. So for those people He died. For you He died. That you live. And not just a little. Not just enough to get by. But that you have abundant life (John 10:10).

For like this wedding at Cana, how often things in life start out joyful. Marriages, friendships, jobs, churches, holidays, families . . . but then something happens. Wedding feasts run out of wine. We run out of patience. Sin erupts from within us or upon us. Tragedy interrupts. Strife rears its ugly head. Small disagreements grow into big disputes. And what started so joyful . . . We try to get by. Make the best of a bad situation. Good enough, we try for. And are satisfied if we can get that.

Not Jesus. Good enough is not good enough for Him. Nothing but the best for Him. And so the wine taken to the steward is the good stuff, the best. And the life Jesus has for you is the same. The good, the best isn’t over and in the past - it is still to come. The hour when all sin and death will be vanquished, once and for all, and only life and joy remain. At His wedding feast. The wedding feast of heaven, which will never end and never run out of joy or life.

For you matter. Those people matter. And God gives nothing but the best. We might settle for less, but He never will.

And to this end, then also He gives you His Spirit. Not the same to all, but not because some matter and some don’t. No. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good, Paul says. God gives, God blesses you with His Spirit, for your good and also for the good of others. That you be His blessing to them, and they to you. To those people. Because they matter.

It is the devil who has lied to us and convinced us that some people, those people, don’t matter. We are to be our brother’s keeper, no matter who our brother - or sister - is. And we can, because the Son of God came to be our brother and keep us, provide for us, love us, and save us. And because he did, we do. Because He did, we can. With Him, with His Spirit, with His forgiveness, with His Word, with His life. You matter to Jesus.

At the very end of the funeral liturgy, when we are standing by the graveside of a Christian and entrusting the body of our loved one to God, we say these words: 

May God the Father, who created this body; 
may God the Son, who by His blood redeemed this body; 
may God the Holy Spirit, who by Holy Baptism sanctified this body to be His temple, 
keep these remains to the day of the resurrection of all flesh.

It is a good reminder to us of the great care God takes for life, from beginning to end. How precious it is in His eyes. Which sadly, we sometimes only realize when someone dies; when they’ve departed from us. That God created them special, redeemed them in His love, and sanctified them for life with others and with Him.

But why wait for the funeral? Perhaps this is how we should look at others now. Not that those people don’t matter, but that they matter because our Father created them, the Son redeemed them, and the Holy Spirit wants to sanctify them. They matter to Him so they matter to me. 

Those people do matter. That is the attitude not wormed, but worded and baptized and bodied and blooded into your hearts and minds and lives.

Those people do matter, and are worth my time and energy and bother.

Those people do matter, and so there is forgiveness for them. And for you. For you, if you’ve had an abortion. For you, if you’ve made a mess of your life or someone else’s life. For you, if you haven’t been the Christian, the person, you should be. For you, if you’ve been one of those people to those people. You are forgiven!

Those people do matter, so I will speak Christ’s Word and forgiveness to them, even as Christ speaks them to me.

Those people do matter, so I will defend them. The unborn, the elderly, the sick, the dying, the fragile, the outcast. I will speak for them, just as Christ defends, cares, and speaks up for me.

Those people do matter, so I will pray for them, as Christ prays for me.

Those people do matter. That is the word spoken by God most loudly when He hung in silence on the cross. You matter. That’s why I’m here, bleeding and dying for you. And that is the word we proclaim today. Not just on this Sanctity of Life Sunday, but every today. Until this, Jesus’ first sign, be fulfilled at the last, when the hour comes and He comes again, and the wedding feast begins.

Those people do matter. You matter! Thanks be to God!

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

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Baptism of Our Lord Sermon

Jesu Juva

“The Heavens Were Opened”
Text: Luke 3:15-22; Romans 6:1-11; Isaiah 43:1-7

This is a gentle reworking of a sermon from yesteryear. Enjoy this encore presentation!

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

Why did Jesus have to be baptized?

That’s the question I am asked whenever people hear this story. And the answer, very simply, is this: He did not have to be. Jesus had no sin to repent of. He needed no washing of forgiveness. Jesus is the Lord and Creator of all, and the perfect, sinless Son of God - what could John possibly give Him that wasn’t from Him and of Him? Nothing.

So the next question then is: So why was Jesus baptized?

Well, for the same reason He was born and lived and died: because you needed Him to be. Because you need a Saviour. For you have sin. You were born in sin, with sin, and to your charge have added sins of thoughts, words, deeds, and desires. Each and every day. You have sin that you know of - selfish acts, angry words, hateful thoughts, shameful desires; and sin that is so deep in your nature, so ingrained in your being, so part of our everyday life, that you don’t even know of it. But your Saviour knows. He knows it all. He knows it is you who need the washing of forgiveness, and therefore, He is baptized. For you. Because when Jesus stepped into that water, the water didn’t change Jesus - Jesus changed the water.

Now to the crowds that were along the Jordan that day, it didn’t look that way at first. The people had no idea that one of the folks in the crowd with them that day was the one they were looking for and hoping for - the promised Messiah. They were looking at John and wondering if he was the one. John said “No!” But He is coming, and soon. And He is so much greater than I that I am not even worthy to do the most lowly and menial of tasks - untie his shoe.

Yes, John, you are correct. You are not worthy. Yet by your hand this great one, Jesus, will be baptized! For to this He has graciously called you, to do this very thing; to be a small cog in Jesus’ work of salvation. . . . We are not worthy either - to be children of God, to speak His Word, to raise His children, to be His pastor, to be in His house. Yet He has graciously called us - you and me - to do these very things. To be small cogs in His continuing work of salvation. Is that not a wonder? For John. For us.

So the crowd took no notice of Jesus at the Jordan that day. Just another pilgrim; a Nazarene, a Galilean. Yet actually, this pilgrim had come on a longer journey than that! For this one in the crowd that day had come all the way down not just from Nazareth or Galilee, but from heaven itself! Here was God Himself, standing in solidarity with His creatures. Standing with us against the evil one, just as He had promised He would. His holy humanity mixed in with all our sinful humanity. One of us, yet not one of us. Which would soon become evident.

For when Jesus is baptized, Luke reports, three unique things happen: heaven is opened, the Holy Spirit descends upon Him in bodily form, like a dove, and the voice of the Father sounds forth from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” Yes, here is the One greater than John. A man who is also God’s Son. A man who has no sin, for with Him God is well pleased. A man at whose baptism heaven is opened so that the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven may attend and see this wonder. The wonder of God as man, taking man’s place in the water. He is more than an example - He is our substitute under the Law, under sin, under the sentence of death, to save us. Of no other god could this be said. All others gods demand from their creatures; the true God comes and serves His creatures.

And we need it, we need this! For without Him, heaven remains closed. Closed as it was for our first parents when they fell into sin and were expelled from Paradise into a world of death - a world of thorns, a world of pain and rebellion, a world of struggle and suffering. You’ve felt it. You’ve given it. You’ve groaned under it. The thorns of sin, the struggles of life, the pain of sin, the crushing insensitivity of selfishness. But what could you do? Without Christ, the way to the Tree of Life was blocked by fearsome angels with flaming swords.

But at the Jordan that day - did you hear? - heaven opened again! . . . That is a phrase we should not take lightly. When that happened before - when the windows of the heavens were opened - it was in Genesis (7:11), when the sinfulness of God’s creatures had gotten so bad that He sent a flood to destroy sinful mankind from the face of the earth. All who had turned away from Him and would not believe in Him. But now heaven is opened again, for God is now using a flood of water not to destroy sinful mankind, but to destroy sin. To destroy sin through the One who would take all the sin of the world upon Himself and be destroyed by the flaming sword of God’s wrath on the cross. He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world, as John would proclaim after this (John 1:29). And now, when the heavens are opened, the result is not just death - but death that leads to life.

That is why St. Paul speaks as he does to us today, as we heard from him in the book of Romans. That baptism is about death that leads to life. For with His baptism, Jesus now begins His journey to Jerusalem and the cross, where His baptism will be fulfilled. Fulfilled as on the cross He is engulfed in the fire of sin and death. But with the Holy Spirit descending upon Him in bodily form as a dove, we are reminded of Noah’s dove, which proclaimed the return of life after death. And with Jesus’ resurrection, that is exactly what has happened. The power of the Law, the power of sin, the power of death has all been broken by Jesus. For as Paul said: He who has died has been set free from sin, and He who has died can never die again - death no longer has dominion over him. And so if death is defeated, then there is life. The life of God. The life of freedom. The life that has no end.

That is the life now given to you and all who are baptized into Jesus. Baptism, Paul says, joins you to Jesus in His death and resurrection, so that in Him, you too die and rise to live a new life. A new life free from the condemnation of sin and the power of death. A new life of freedom and love and forgiveness. A new life free to live, even though we still live in the midst of this thorny, painful, difficult world of death. But though the struggles and troubles be many and difficult, they will not - they cannot - win. For you are one with Christ, the Victor.

Listen again to how Isaiah talked about that very thing as He looked forward to this day of Christ’s life and victory:

But now thus says the Lord,
he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel:
Fear not, for I have redeemed you; 
I have called you by name, you are mine.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you;
when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, 
and the flame shall not consume you.
For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

In Baptism, the Lord called you by name. In Baptism, He made you His. In Baptism, He called you His beloved son. In Baptism, the Holy Spirit descended upon you. In Baptism, the flames of God’s wrath against your sin were quenched with the water of forgiveness and life, and so His fire is no longer a consuming fire but a purifying one. For He who created you has redeemed you. He is the Lord your God, your Saviour.

How can water do such great things? If it’s plain water, it can’t. Plain water can only wash your body, but cannot touch your soul. But if Jesus is in the water, it can. Because remember, when Jesus stepped into that water, the water didn’t change Jesus - Jesus changed the water, to a water rich in grace, and a washing of the new birth by the Holy Spirit, as St. Paul would tell Titus (Titus 3). The Holy Spirit who leads us to Christ and joins us to Christ. To His cross of death and life. To cross from death to life.
  
And as His baptism was the beginning of His journey to the cross, so too with your baptism, you have begun the journey to the cross. To where Christ has put His cross for you: here, at this altar. For here, the Body and Blood that once hung on the cross and died, but then rose from the dead and lives, are for you. Here, you eat and drink the fruits of His cross - the new Tree of Life - receiving the forgiveness, life, and salvation Jesus gives you in His Body and Blood. To raise you and strengthen you in the life He gave you in your baptism.

For you need raising and strengthening. You do. You know it. You fall, and sin beats you down. You grow weary of the fight, and the fight makes you weak. At times, it may seem hopeless, pointless, and as if there is no reason to go on, to keep trying. And so your baptism brings you here, where your Saviour places His Body into your mouth and pours His Blood over your lips and says to you: I am your strength; I am your hope; I am your life. Do not be afraid; I am with you. Always. Rise, and depart in peace. And we do, for He is faithful.

It started so simply and seemed so ordinary. Just another baptism. But when Jesus stepped into the Jordan that day, everything was changed. Not for Him, but for you. Not for Him because He came for this; but for you because He came for you. And still He comes for you, in the water, on the altar, in the Word. And when He does, everything is changed.

You no longer live a life that will end in death, but will die a death that ends in life. You no longer live a life of captivity under the condemnation of sin, but of freedom under the forgiveness of sin.

For in Jesus, in the water, heaven has been opened to you. And it shall never be closed again.

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

Sunday, January 6, 2019

Epiphany of Our Lord Sermon

Jesu Juva

“Get it? Get it!”
Text: Matthew 2:1-12; Isaiah 60:1-6; Ephesians 3:1-12

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

Matthew is a lousy historian. He tells us this story of the wise men, but he leaves out so many details. For example, how long after Jesus was born did the wise men come? How long and how far did they have to travel? How old was Jesus when they arrived? And where were they from? From the east isn’t very precise, Matthew. Was it Babylon, Persia, Arabia, or somewhere else? And how did they know to follow that star? What made them do that? And them - how many of them were there? Three? One for each gift? Or were there more than that? Isaiah told us today of a multitude of camels that would cover the land. Was that their entourage? And did these wise men even travel together? Or did they come separately and converge in Jerusalem? C’mon Matthew! Do your research. Get the facts. Tell us more.

Yes, Matthew is a lousy historian. But he is a great Gospel writer. For he knows this story really isn’t about the wise men - it’s about Jesus. And so what’s important in this story isn’t the details about the wise men, it’s that God is here, among us, in human flesh and blood. God revealed this to the wise men, and He uses the wise men to reveal it now to us.

Which, maybe, sounds funny. Because we know, right? We know the story of Christmas, and how Jesus was born, and that He is the Son of God. We just celebrated that. We know all the great hymns and carols that talk about that. We already know all that, right?

Except, well . . .  the Christmas lights that lit up our houses and streets and trees are going dark and being taken down. The troubles and cares - and government shutdown - that were overshadowed by Christmas joy are still there. Doubts and fears come roaring back and cast dark shadows over our lives. And that darkness can get pretty deep. The darkness of sin. The darkness of death or the threat of it. The darkness of life without the light of God’s love and forgiveness. Yes, Jesus was born, but that was so long ago and so far away. And where is He now, when I need Him? In my loneliness. In my hopelessness. In my uncertainty. Yes, He was born. Everyone knows that. But was He born for me?

Oh, we know that too, right? We’re Christians! But that does not make you immune from the devil’s temptations and his efforts to drive you to despair and away from God. In fact, it makes you a target of them. His hissing accusation that you call yourself a Christian, but look at you! You’re no Christian! You’d be better if you were. Stronger in your faith. His assertion that you’re not worthy of Jesus. You’re too sinful. You repent, and yet do the same sins over again, don’t you? See? Unworthy! His reminder that if you were really a Christian, you’d read your Bible more, pray more, give more - of yourself and what you have. But you don’t, do you? You keep saying you will, but then . . . what? Everything and everyone else gets bumped up ahead of God, don’t they? That makes them false gods, Christian . . . Christian! Yeah, that’s a good one! You should be a stand-up comedian! That’s what he says. That’s what he wants you to believe.

And what makes all that so effective is that we know all those accusations are true. We’re not what we should be. We’re not good enough. Not even close. But that’s not the end of the story.

So we can learn something from the Wise Men. But not what you think, or what you may so often hear. Not to give our best to Jesus. Our gold, frankincense, and myrrh, or whatever counts as those things today. Not that “wise men still seek him” as the saying goes, and so pat ourselves on the back that we, here today, are so wise. As if we had anything to do with it. Not that we should seek signs from God in the stars, and not that we should travel great distances and overcome any obstacle to get to Jesus. None of that. If the Wise Men were here today and heard you say any of that, they would wonder what is wrong with you. Because all those things are about them, what they did; and about us, what we should do. And to the Wise Men, their journey was about only one thing: Jesus. They came to fall down and worship Him.

And why did they? Well, for one reason only: not because they were so wise, and not becasue they were so good - but simply because God wanted them there. God wanted them to know that their Saviour had come. Not just the Saviour of the Jews or of the world, the Saviour of the wise or the Saviour of the good, but their Saviour. That’s why He sent the star. That’s why He had Micah write his prophecy about Bethlehem. And that’s why they fell down and worshiped him. You may fall down before a king, but you only worship a god.

And everyone today does. Everyone has a god or gods that they worship. For whatever you set your heart on and put your trust in is truly your god (Large Catechism). And so some popular ones today are happiness, success, popularity, wealth, job, health, family, pride, power, self-fulfillment. All these things are not wrong or bad in and of themselves, but they can be, if they become our gods. If they become what we live for at all costs, and where we find our meaning and value. And they make lousy gods. For when they go away, or are taken away, when we can’t achieve them, or get enough of them, or when they fail us - then what? Well that’s when the darkness descends. A darkness that can get pretty deep. 

So epiphany comes to show us, reveal to us, teach us - again! - your God. The one, true God. The only one who will not let you down, leave you, or fail you. The only one who keeps His Word and all His promises - even when that means being born as a baby and dying on a cross. If just any god will do, the wise men had gods where they came from, so why bother? And if any religion will do, why make the journey to Bethlehem? No. These wise men, these wealthy men, these men who seemed to have it all, knew they didn’t. They fell down and worshiped the one who did. And who could give them what they needed most. It didn’t matter that He was just a child. It didn’t matter that He was poor. It didn’t matter that He wasn’t in the capital and surrounded by royal trappings. God’s Word trumped all of that. And the Word made flesh was the gift that had come for them.

And for you. Arise, shine, for your light has come, Isaiah said. And this light is for all people, Paul said. To enlighten your darkness, no matter how deep. The light of hope in despair. The light of life in the midst of death. The light of forgiveness in the mire of sin. The light of peace in the midst of fear. For Jesus is everything that we are not. Jesus is everything our false gods are not. Here to give you what you need.

Which is why the wise men fell down and worshiped Him, and why we do the same. For that’s what worship is - not what we do for God, but what God does for us. In worship, we receive what we need. We come as sinners for forgiveness. We come unworthy to be made worthy. We come with doubts and fears to hear His Word of promise and assurance. We come hungry and are fed by Him, His own Body and Blood. No matter how rich you are in the things of this world, you - and the wise men, too! - come to Jesus as beggars in need. And Jesus, poor in the things of this world, gives us what we need: Himself, His life, and His kingdom. Which means we come as beggars and leave as princes.

So the wise men left wiser and wealthier than when they had come. For they saw what no earthly learning could reveal to them - their Saviour. And they received what no earthly treasures could buy - eternal life. And so do you. 

And that’s what Matthew wants you to know. The details about the wise men? Meh, he’ll leave that to someone else. But they fell down and worshiped Him. They fell down and worshiped Him! Yes, that’s what matters. For that’s why Jesus came. To give to them. To raise them. To be their God and Saviour. And yours, too. And the rest? Everything else will fall into place when you know that you and your life, who you are and what you do, is all really about Jesus and what He is doing for you. The Son of God born to die a sinners death, that you who die a sinners death be born from above and rise to live as sons and daughters of God. To receive this gift from Him in the forgiveness of your sins. For where there is forgiveness of sins, there is also life and salvation (Small Catechism).

So Epiphany, that’s when the light goes on. The real light - not just the Christmas lights that shine only for awhile, but the light we need all year round. The light in our darkness. The light that changes everything. The light that worship is not about us, but about Jesus. That it’s not about giving, but receiving. That we don’t worship at church, we worship at Jesus, where He has promised to be for us. Whether that is in a house in Bethlehem, a cathedral in a big city, or a borrowed building in Vienna. That the baby Jesus isn’t the one who will be king, but already is. That in the manger or on His mother’s lap, He is not the one who will be the Saviour, but already is. And that we are not those who will be sons and daughters of God, but already are. And that we are not those who will have eternal life, but that you are already living that life that not even death will be able to end. Not because you can do it, but because it’s Jesus’ life, given to you. The one born into your death that you be born into His life. Epiphany shines the light on all of that for us, that you get it. That you get Him

And then maybe, just maybe, God will use you as one of His “wise men,” when you fall down and worship Him. For others may not know your history, your story, but see you do this - and so see in Jesus the one who saves, the one who gives hope, the one who has come to lighten our darkness by His mercy, forgiveness, and love. That we get it. That we get it (pointing to mind) and that we get it (receiving motion with hands).

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