Wholly Opened – Sermon on Mark 7:31-37 for the Twelfth Sunday after Trinity

Mark 7:31-37

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

No one expects infants to be able to speak from the moment they are born. They cry and fuss and make noises. After a while they start to babble and eventually are able to say “Mama” or “Dada.” For most, it takes more than a year before they are able to say words, and months more before they can put those words together into a sentence. Even then, most people outside the family can’t understand a toddler and need parents to translate. Learning to speak is a long, slow process. That’s not what happens to this man.

Jesus is far from His normal stomping grounds and is in Gentile territory. He has just healed the Canaanite woman’s daughter near Tyre and Sidon and is returning to Galilee, but He takes an odd route. Instead of traveling straight south, He turns east and goes through the region of the Decapolis. That would be like traveling from here to Fargo by way of Bemidji. It appears that Jesus goes out of His way to be at this precise place at this precise time. Even though He’s far from where He spent most of His life, the people there know that Jesus can heal. So, they bring this man who was deaf and mute to Him.

Jesus takes the man away from the crowd and does this little liturgy. He stuffs His fingers into the man’s ears, spits, touches his tongue, looks up to heaven, sighs (lit. ‘groans’), and says one word, “Ephphatha,”which means “Be opened.” Jesus isn’t just acting like a magician with some sleight of hand. His power is displayed through His one-word command to deaf ears. He’s the One who spoke creation into existence (Jn. 1:3). This miracle shows us that the Creator has come down into His creation to undo the Fall. And this comes at a cost to Him.

Mark wants us to ponder that last part where Jesus looked up into heaven and sighed. ‘Sighed’ is a fine translation so long as we see it as a heavy sigh. The word is normally translated ‘groan’ (Ro. 8:23, 26; 2 Co. 5:2, 4). We should see that Jesus is pained and burdened when He sees what sin and death have done to this man and to all creation. Also, see that these miracles come at a cost to Jesus. They take something out of Him. With this groan, it’s like Jesus is taking the man’s deafness and muteness into His Own body, and it weighs on Him.

And the word Jesus speaks, “Ephphatha,” is interesting. He’s speaking a command to deaf ears, but He doesn’t demand them to open. (Sometimes, I’ll try to open a jar for my wife and command the lid, “Open.” Spoiler alert: lids don’t care about my commands.) That isn’t what Jesus says here. Instead, it’s a passive command, “Be opened.” And they are. (Maybe I should try that next time I come across a stubborn lid.) Immediately, the man’s ears are opened, his tongue is released, and he spoke plainly. The word Mark uses for plainly is orthōs, which is where we get the word ‘orthodox’ and means rightly or correctly.

The remarkable thing is how thoroughly the man is healed. Even though this guy had never spoken, he doesn’t start in the same place as a newborn. He didn’t have to go through the long process of learning words; learning how to manipulate his tongue, lips, and mouth to speak them; and then combining those words into sentences. He spoke as though he had been speaking correctly his entire life. Jesus opened his ears and lips wholly and completely. This is the same kind of power Jesus demonstrates when He rebuked the wind and waves. Jesus simply says, “Peace! Be still!” (Mk. 4:39). The wind didn’t slowly die down. It ceased. The white caps didn’t turn to rolling waves then ripples. The sea turned to glass. The same thing happens here. The results are immediate and complete. He opened this man the same way—wholly. 

This is what Isaiah had promised in our Old Testament reading (Is. 29:17-24), “In that day the deaf shall hear the words of a book, and out of their gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see” (Is. 29:18). The man had been closed in the gloom and darkness of silence, but the word of Jesus reaches him and does its work. The man hears and speaks the way he was created to hear and speak. Our Lord opens his lips, and his mouth declares God’s praise (Ps. 51:15).

God created our ears to hear His Word and our lips to respond in worship. Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the Word of Christ (Ro. 10:17). With the heart one believes and is justified, and with the mouth one confesses and is saved (Ro. 10:10). Now, this man can do both. He hears the Word and speaks it rightly.

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus often heals immediately. This man. The woman who had been bleeding for twelve years is made well the moment she touches His garment (Mk. 5:25-34). Lazarus (Jn. 11:43-44). The blind, the sick, the lame, and the leprous are all made whole at His word (Mk. 1:34).

We often pray and desire those immediate results. We want the diagnosis reversed now. We want the relationship fixed now. The grief gone now. The wandering soul to repent and be saved now. We pray for all sorts of things and want God to have it done before we finish with our “Amen.”

Sometimes, God will do that. More often, He makes us wait. But in that waiting, He is doing something more. So, what should we do when we have to wait? We remember and retreat to His promises.

God is not slow to deliver on His promises (2 Pet. 3:9). He is not reluctant or limited in giving us what is good. The same Jesus who immediately and wholly opened this man is the One who hears your prayers. If the full restoration is delayed, it is not because He cannot do it. Instead, it is because God knows what He is doing. He is working a better opening than the one we have imagined. He is teaching us to live by every word that comes from His mouth (Dt. 8:3), and not only by the kind of answers we can see and hear right now.

So, when you have to wait, you can groan with Jesus at the fallen state of creation. But you do not groan without hope (Ro. 8:23-24). Christ has given you the Holy Spirit to open your ears to the Gospel. Let His promises drown out the noise of the rest of this broken world. Your tongue has been loosed. Use it to confess that He has defeated death by His death and resurrection and that He now reigns.

Even as you live through things that are not as God intended them to be, you know that Christ’s return is coming. Jesus Himself will descend from heaven with another word—a cry of command (1 Th. 4:16). That cry will be another “Ephphatha.” The graves will open. Ears that have been closed by death will hear. Tongues that have decayed will speak correctly. The meek shall obtain fresh joy, and the poor shall exult in the Holy One of Israel (Is. 29:19). He will make all things new (Rev. 21:5). Until that day, you wait. But you wait with Christ’s Word in your ears and the confession of His Gospel on your tongue.

Dear saints, your Savior has done all things well, He does all things well, and He will do all things well. He knows what He is doing. The One who spoke “Ephphatha” to this man will speak again over all creation. And in that day, nothing will remain closed. It will all be wholly opened. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

Popeye Gospel – Sermon on 1 Corinthians 15:1-10 for the Eleventh Sunday after Trinity

1 Corinthians 15:1-10

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Sin makes everyone prideful. It’s true that some people are more prideful than others. Some wear their pride as prominently as a ten-gallon hat on top of their heads; some keep it better hidden. But pride isn’t a special weakness of only a few. Pride is the default setting of the sinful nature of every one of us.

In our Old Testament reading (Gen. 4:1-15), we saw Cain’s pride. God had established the sacrifice that covered nakedness and shame with the slaughtering of an animal (Gen. 3:21). Abel followed that pattern by offering the firstborn of his flocks. But Abel’s brother, Cain, proudly thought his offering of crops was good enough. When God didn’t accept Cain’s offering, his face fell. Rather than examining his heart and actions, Cain didn’t let go of his pride. Since Abel was offering acceptable sacrifices, Cain murdered him. Cain would rather destroy what was better than repent of his unacceptable sacrifices.

In the Gospel reading (Lk. 18:9-14), the Pharisee does same thing. Instead of comparing himself and his actions to other Pharisees, he picks the worst of the worst—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, and tax collectors. Instead of looking into the clear mirror of God’s Law, he compares himself to scoundrels and fornicators, which couldn’t give him a clear picture of himself. Even though his resume of works was extraordinary according to human standards, it doesn’t impress God. That was why the tax collector went home justified. He simply pleaded for mercy. Pride keeps score, and faith begs for mercy.

Pride always boasts. It boasts of what it has accomplished, what it has avoided, and what it is by its own strength. Some of you will remember the old cartoon Popeye the Sailor Man. Besides eating spinach and having ridiculously large forearms, Popeye is known for his quote, “I yam what I yam, and that’s all that I yam.” Sinful pride does the same. It says, “I am what I am, so look at me, my accomplishments, and my achievements.” That kind of prideful boasting exalts the self while excluding God, and it is deadly. But there is another kind of boasting.

Paul uses almost the same words as Popeye, but in a stark contrast from the spinach-eating sailor, Paul doesn’t let those words stand alone. He puts more weight on what he says before. “By the grace of God I am what I am” (1 Co. 15:10). Paul knew what he had been. Before Jesus appeared to him, he was the church’s primary and fiercest enemy.

Paul had been trained by one of the most prominent teachers and a member of the Sanhedrin (Act. 5:34-39; 22:3). He had lived a life that was blameless under the law (Php. 3:6). He consented to Stephen’s death (Act. 8:1) and was ravaging the church all over the world (Act. 9:1; 26:11). Then, Christ stopped him on the road to Damascus. “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me” (Act. 9:4). Christ brought the self-righteous Saul to the dust. The Gospel opened his eyes (Act. 9:17-19). And he became the apostle to the Gentiles (Act. 9:15; 22:21).

Paul never forgot that moment. From that day forward he refused to stand before God saying, “I thank You that I am not like other men,” and instead said, “Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost” (1 Tim. 1:15). The same man who once trusted his own righteousness now trusted only in the righteousness that is given by God to those who have faith in Christ (Ro. 3:21-22). 

When Paul boasts, he doesn’t do it from a place of pride. He will not take credit. “By the grace of God I am what I am.” If God had dealt with Paul according to justice, damnation would have been his due. It was grace—and grace alone—that made Saul into a Paul.

Dear saints, you and I all stand in the same place. By nature, you are not better than Cain, the Pharisee, or Saul the persecutor. You were not less of a sinner. We are all “by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind” (Eph. 2:3). The only reason any of us became Christians is that God has done the work. His Law cast us down and humbled us. Then, the Holy Spirit enlightened us with the Gospel, brought us to faith, forgave us, and adopted us as His own. What you are today, you are by the grace of God alone.

To confess that you are a Christian is already a boast of God’s pure grace. It is to be called out of darkness into light, out of damnation into salvation—all for the sake of Christ. By the grace of God, you are what you are. As a part of the body of Christ, you have work to do.

Here, Paul says that he has worked harder than any of the other apostles, but it wasn’t to his own credit. It was the grace of God that worked through him. This is a Christian boast. The work Paul did was real, and the glory belonged to God.

That’s why Paul says, “His grace toward me was not in vain.” Grace does not leave a person unchanged or idle. It produces real labor and real results. Paul actually did work harder than the rest. He traveled farther, suffered more, planted more congregations, and endured more hardship than the others (2 Co. 6:4-10). Yet every moment it was the grace of God at work in and through him. The same is true for you.

God has called you to serve Him in His kingdom. In your family and household; in your workplace; in this congregation; with your neighbors; in your city, your state, and country—in those ordinary places God’s grace does remarkable things through you. The grace that is saving you (1 Co. 15:2) is active and powerful.

There is a ‘bad’ kind of humility that sounds pious, but it actually lessens the work of God. It says, “I’m just a nobody who isn’t significant. My vocations don’t really matter. God isn’t using me for anything special.” Hogwash. That might sound humble, but it denies the power of God’s grace that already made you who you are. It’s an anti-spinach that weakens what God is doing and will do through you. It treats the living Christ who lives in you as if He were weak or uninterested in using ordinary believers for His kingdom. That false humility minimized God’s grace and actually harms faith. Imagine if Paul had said, “What I’ve done for the kingdom doesn’t matter because I used to persecute the Church of Christ.” That would grossly dishonor the work God did through him. And it would deter him from continuing to do the work God gave him to do. Don’t let the devil lull you into that kind of complacency!

You don’t have to outwork Paul and plant churches on every corner. But you are a Christian. That is already a high enough calling. The grace that has made you God’s child is not in vain. It works through your hands, words, and presence. It moves you to be generous, forgiving, and bold in your witness. In the quiet places of your everyday life, God advances His kingdom in ways that will only be fully seen on the Last Day. God has made you to be His salt and light (Mt. 5:13-16). He has placed you on a lampstand so that you give light to those around you. And He makes your light shine.

Sure, confess that you have not done enough—no Christian ever has. Plead for the grace that makes you willing and able to walk in the good works God has already prepared for you (Eph. 2:10). Whatever is done through you—even the smallest act of faithfulness—is not of yourself. It is the grace of God that is with you.

That is the kind of boasting that belongs in a Christian’s mouth. “By the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain.”

That grace comes to you now as Jesus comes to feed you with His Body and Blood. He still forgives yesterday’s sins and the sins of this morning. He is your righteousness. He has made you what you are, and He is the One who will keep working through you until the day He brings His work to completion. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

The Untaming of the Shrewd – Sermon on Luke 16:1-13 for the Ninth Sunday after Trinity

Luke 16:1-13

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

We’ll get to the parable, but we’ll start with a little congregational participation. Ready? Pick one hand and hold it in front of you. Point your thumb toward your face and line your other fingers straight behind it like you’re going to do a karate chop. Keep your hand like that and look at me for a moment.

Imagine you’re at the grocery store to buy a snack for yourself. It could be a bag of chips, a box of cookies, or a pint of ice cream, whatever you fancy right now. No self-checkout today. You’ve handed the cashier a $20 bill, and she’s about to hand you your change. Without looking at your hand, move it into position to receive the change. Now, look at your hand. I’m guessing your palm is toward the ceiling, fingers slightly open, ready to close around the change. We’ll call that the ‘receptive’ hand.

Put your hand back in the karate chop position and keep it there again. Imagine you spot a $100 bill on a shelf in the store. No one else is around. Forget about what you would do with it. Just move your hand as if you’re reaching to take it. Look again—that’s the grasping and taking hand.

Everyone knows that hand. It is the hand of a child who snatches a toy and yells, “Mine!” It is the hand that treats everything as something to control rather than receive. That grasping hand is not new. It is as old as the Fall.

God created our hands to be the hands of a steward with open palms. First, receiving from Him; then, offering to Him. God created us in His Own image and gave us dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, the animals, and all the earth. He gave every plant for food (Gen. 1:28-30). That dominion wasn’t permission to beat creation into submission. It was entrusted to us as image-bearers, so that we would reflect the heart of our all-giving Creator.

Not only did God give all of creation to be under our dominion, He also gave us a home. He put Adam and the woman in the Garden of Eden and gave them a clear purpose, “to work it and keep it” (Gen. 2:15). The two Hebrew verbs there are the same words God used when He established the priests who were to ‘serve’ and ‘guard’ the Tabernacle (Num. 3:7-8; 8:26; 18:5-6). In short, Adam wasn’t only created to be a gardener. He was created to be a priestly guardian of the sacred space of Eden. There was only one vocation in Eden, and that was the vocation of steward. God created us to receive everything from His open hand—palms up, receiving every gift of creation from His generosity. That open, receptive hand is the original stewardship hand.

Sadly, the hand rolled over. In Gen. 3, the devil suggested that God was holding out. Out of all creation, God said that one tree was off-limits. The devil lied to the woman and said that things would be better if she would eat the forbidden fruit. Suddenly, that is all her eye could see. The woman sees that the tree is good for food, a delight to the eyes, and desirable to make one wise (Gen 3:6). That desire and covetousness twisted her vision. The hands of the woman and Adam—hands that had been open to receive—those hands turned over to reach, grasp, and take.

That single motion—palm down, fingers closing around what wasn’t theirs—was the tipping point. The stewards presumed to be owners. But God never transferred ownership. Instead, they took and grasped what didn’t belong to them. They became thieves. In a sense, they stole the fruit. But the deeper theft was their attempt to take God’s place. The closing, grasping hand was the first act of original sin. It showed that they no longer trusted God, and whatever does not proceed from faith is sin (Ro. 14:23). That hand turning over and grasping what God hadn’t given was a violation of at least the 1st, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 7th, 9th, and 10th Commandments.

Now, bring that picture into the parable Jesus tells today.

There is a rich man whose hand was always open, always giving. He entrusted his possessions to a manager. The manager’s hand was supposed to stay palm up so he could receive the master’s wealth, manage it, and return it to the owner. But the manager’s hand has already rolled over. He has been wasting what was never his. Some commentators suggest that this manager was scamming the tenants by collecting more than he was supposed to and keeping the extra for himself.

When the master calls for an accounting of the books, the manager’s closed fist is exposed, and he will be removed from his position. The manager knows himself well enough to admit that he isn’t strong enough to dig, and he’s too proud to beg. So, what does he do? He acts shrewdly and hatches a plan. He probably worked harder that afternoon than he had in years.

He calls in the debtors one by one and reduces what they actually owe without the master’s permission or authorization. The unrighteous manager is still living off the master’s open-handed generosity, still using the master’s resources. He keeps his hand turned over so he can cleverly take more—this time, from the master himself. He is using his boss’s generosity as his own personal safety net. He knows that these debtors will be singing the praises of the rich man. But they will also associate him with their debt being slashed.

Notice that when the rich man figures the whole thing out, he still doesn’t close his hand. Instead, the master commends and praises the manager—not for his theft, but for his shrewdness. The manager knew the giving nature of the rich man and bet everything on it. That’s what Jesus is praising.

Jesus is not holding him up as a moral example. The man is unrighteous. His motivation is purely self-preservation. He’s a thief, but he’s a shrewd thief. Look at the energy this little scoundrel pours into securing a few friends who will toss him bread when he’s finally out of his job. Look at how he plots, stays up late, and reworks the books for his own benefit.

What Jesus praises is the shrewd use of what belongs to another. The manager did it only for his own benefit. Jesus wants us to do it for the benefit of others. In short, Christ wants us to use what God gives and entrusts to us in shrewd ways that reveal the generosity of our heavenly Father. That’s why Jesus says, “The sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light” (Lk. 16:8).

Dear saints, you have infinite treasures. You have the Gospel, the forgiveness of sins, the hope of the resurrection and the life of the world to come. You have all of that because of the open hand of our God who gives and gives and gives. He promises that you don’t have to worry about any of your needs for tomorrow because He will provide (Mt. 6:31-34). But still, we are careful, cautious, and stingy. In our selfishness we have tamed ourselves to be close-fisted. Repent.

That is the rebuke Jesus has for us today. Our closed hands are greedy and lazy. The 7th Commandment forbids both. Greed selfishly grabs. Laziness selfishly refuses to work. The virtue the Holy Spirit is after in us today is generosity. He wants us to open our hands to both freely receive and freely give. Jesus presses the point: “Make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings”(Lk. 16:9). Eventually, money will fail. The day is coming when our hands can’t hold anything. So today, use what is already the Lord’s to make eternal friends—people who will stand with you in the Resurrection because the Gospel reached them through the resources you have stewarded.

David recognized this in our Old Testament reading (1 Chr. 29:10-15). When the people freely gave and poured out their gifts so the Temple could be built, David prayed, “All things come from You, and of Your own have we given You” (1 Chron. 29:14). Whenever and whatever we give, we are only returning what the open hand of God first placed in our hands. There is no such thing as ‘my money’ or ‘my stuff’ in the kingdom of heaven. There is only the Lord’s money and the Lord’s stuff temporarily in our care. That fact frees the fist that desires to grasp. That truth untames us and makes us shrewd. Closed hands always end in idolatry by making a (little ‘g’) god of the self and of the stuff we think we can control.

Repent and always know that Christ is the perfect Steward. His hands stayed open. Though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you by His poverty might become rich (2 Co. 8:9). He emptied Himself. He stretched out His hands on the cross and let everything be taken. His blood, His life, His whole Self—He gave it all as pure gift. You are not just a failed steward left to dig yourself out of sin. Instead, you are a redeemed steward who has been washed, forgiven, and claimed. The Holy Spirit is still at work to turn our hands back over, palm up, open again.

Jesus wants us to have the same energy that the unjust steward showed. He wants to untame us so we shrewdly use that same intensity, that same foresight, that same willingness to stay up late and work hard for His kingdom.

You have a mind. Use it to find new ways to love your neighbor. You have a body. Use it to serve others. You have resources that are already His. Use them to make friends who will welcome you into the eternal dwellings.

Dear saints, your Master’s hand is always open. He has already given you everything that matters. You are free. Be shrewd with His gifts, and rejoice in His goodness. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

Odd Wolf – Sermon on Matthew 7:15-23 for the Eighth Sunday after Trinity

Matthew 7:15-23

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

We live in a dangerous world. Because sin and death have entered God’s good creation, there are all sorts of things that can harm you. You could get hit by a drunk driver on the way home. A lunatic could shoot and kill you at the grocery store. Smoke from wildfires can do damage to your lungs. An asteroid could fall from the sky. But Jesus doesn’t tell you to beware of any of those things. The reason Jesus doesn’t warn you about those things isn’t that He is naïve and thinks they are harmless. Rather, He doesn’t warn you about them because they can only temporarily harm you. Christ does warn you—and it’s a stern warning—against false prophets.

Don’t get the wrong idea about these false prophets. A prophet isn’t only someone who predicts the future. Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Daniel were all prophets who spoke accurately about things that were still in the future. King David was a prophet when he wrote about Christ’s death, resurrection, and rule in many of the Psalms. They did that because they were inspired by the Holy Spirit to declare God’s Word. And sometimes, that Word dealt with things that were still to come. But the Bible also gives the title of prophet to those who publicly preach and teach God’s Word (Act. 15:32; 1 Co. 14:1, 3, 29-32). That is what Jesus is referring to here when He warns against false prophets. They are people who preach and teach God’s Word, but they do it falsely.

Jesus describes these false prophets as ravenous wolves who dress up in sheep’s clothing. It’s a stern warning. It’s a solemn warning. It’s right up there among the most dire warnings that Jesus speaks in all of Scripture. As serious as this warning is, we should find comfort even in the warning. Let me explain that first, then we’ll get to the warning.

Imagine you were sick. You’re in pain. Your strength keeps declining as you become more and more lethargic. Your body is slowly shutting down. You’ve tried all sorts of things, but none of them work. Doctor after doctor can’t figure out what’s wrong. You know that if this sickness keeps progressing, it’ll kill you. Imagine you finally went to a doctor who had the answer. He diagnoses your illness perfectly, gives you a prescription, and it works. After the first dose, the sickness is gone. Your energy returns. You get back to normal. You go back to that doctor for a follow-up.

He is pleased after he looks at your vitals, sees how well you’re doing, and is delighted. Then the doctor’s face becomes utterly serious. He looks intently at you and says, “Listen to me. Don’t ever stop taking this medicine. Never miss a single dose. Take it exactly as I’ve prescribed it to you. If you ever stop taking it, you’ll die. If anyone tries to tell you about another remedy, they’re wrong. This is the only cure. I’ll always make sure you have it for free. No cost to you ever, but you need to keep taking it.”

Now, would that warning from the doctor be good or bad news? Of course it’s good news. There’s medicine that keeps you healthy, and it’s free. That’s the way we should hear Jesus’ warning against these false prophets. Yes, it’s a stern, sober warning. But it also means that there are true prophets and shepherds who give the medicine of immortality for free.

As you receive the free medicine of the Gospel, beware of false prophets. Beware of the ravenous wolves who would lure you away from this Gospel. They are the most serious danger you face, Christian.

Jesus tells you why they’re dangerous. Sure, Jesus calls them ‘ravenous,’ but that isn’t what makes these wolves a threat to you. The danger isn’t in their sharp teeth and powerful jaws. It isn’t their speed and strength. No, the wolves Jesus warns against are strange. They are odd wolves.

This might sound a little silly but, as I studied this text this week, I kept thinking of children’s stories. I first thought about “The Three Little Pigs.” In that story, the wolf is dangerous because he huffs, puffs, and blows the houses of straw and sticks down. I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think wolves are known for their lung capacity. That wolf at least warns before he comes after the pigs.

Then I thought of “Little Red Riding Hood.” In that story, the wolf doesn’t barge in the door or announce himself with a roar. Instead, he puts on the grandmother’s nightgown, pulls the cap over his ears, softens his voice, and climbs into the bed. For Little Red, the most dangerous thing in the room looked and sounded like the safest person she knew.

That’s the kind of wolf Jesus warns about here. What makes these wolves dangerous is their deception. They come disguised in sheep’s clothing. The wolves who will destroy you look like sheep. They sound right. They will talk about Jesus. They can quote the Bible. They may even do mighty works in Christ’s name (Mt 7:22). The danger is not their strength. The danger is their clothing. 

If these false prophets came to you and looked like a wolf, you would run. If they came preaching open blasphemy, you would barricade the door. But that’s not how they come. They come dressed as a Christian teacher. They appear with a Bible in their hand and a smile on their face. These false prophets come saying things that sound almost right. That is how they get into the house.

Jeremiah warned about the same thing centuries earlier in our Old Testament reading (Jer. 23:16-29). The false prophets of his day did not stand up and say, “Forget about Yahweh,” or, “Follow these other gods.” No! They sounded nice. They softened God’s Law. They proclaimed false things to sinners. “Everything will be fine, and no disaster will come upon you” (Jer 23:17). They spoke visions of their own minds and called it the Word of the Lord. They filled the unrepentant people with false hopes and false comforts. And, sadly, the people listened, because the message felt safe, soft, and comforting. Like a grandmother’s voice. We face the same deception.

But Jesus tells us how to spot the difference. Christ gives us one test: “You will recognize them by their fruits” (Mt 7:16). You don’t recognize them by their personality, by how nice they are, or even by whether they can quote Scripture. Remember, the devil himself used Scripture when he tempted our Lord in the wilderness (Mt. 4:1-11).

According to Jesus, you spot these false prophets by their fruits. The fruit of a prophet is his teaching—just like the fruit of a baker is the bread he bakes, or the fruit of a doctor is the healing he brings. For anyone who prophesies—anyone who proclaims God’s Word—you have to ask two questions: First, “Does this point out where I have sinned? Does it faithfully proclaim that I am a sinner in need of God’s grace and mercy?” Or, “Does this tell me that God loves me and others just the way we are without any repentance?” The second question to ask is, “Does this point me to Christ crucified and risen, freely, without my works?” Or, “Does this put the weight back on my shoulders? Am I being told that my salvation depends on me putting in a little more effort or sincerity or a few more good works?”

Jesus says that a healthy tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a diseased tree cannot bear good fruit (Mt 7:18). In other words, the teaching will eventually show itself. But you need to know the real thing well enough to compare.

That is why Christ keeps driving us back to the Scriptures. That is why studying the Bible is not just some optional busy-work. You can’t turn off your ears and mind the moment a sermon starts. Jesus is calling you to be fruit inspectors. Not because you are smarter than everyone else, but because the wolves are that good at disguise.

God’s Word doesn’t always flatter you. It doesn’t always say, “Peace, peace,” because there isn’t always peace (Jer. 6:14; 8:11; Ezk. 13:13). Scripture isn’t always pleasant. It isn’t always what you want to hear. God’s Word kills our old, sinful nature so that it can make us alive. It shows you the wolf and then points you to the only refuge—Christ Himself.

Whenever someone claims to proclaim God’s Word, be suspicious. Watch for red flags. That discernment is a good work that Jesus gives you to do today and every day.

Be wary of every teacher and preacher—including the one standing in this pulpit. Don’t just trust me because I’m so smart, handsome, and friendly. (I’m not much of any of those things.) Test the teaching. Compare it to the Scriptures. Hold fast to God’s Word. See the goodness of His Law. And cling to the Gospel—the full, free forgiveness of sins that the Gospel delivers to you. Build on that.

The wolves are always out there in their soft, wooly, sheepish disguise. But the Good Shepherd has already laid down His life for you, His sheep. His voice, His Word, is what will keep you safe now and for eternity. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

Claimed & Filled – Sermon Exodus 20:1-17 for the Sixth Sunday after Trinity

Exodus 20:1-17

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Once upon a time there was a perfect world. There was no death, no pain, no tribulation, no tumult. Everything was perfect because there was no sin. There were no ‘little white lies’ or gossip. No one ever said, “I promise,” because everyone only and always spoke the truth. No child retaliated against a sibling. There were no unfaithful husbands or wives because each man and woman only had eyes for his or her spouse. Not only was there no murder, there was also no fighting, no insults, no anger (Mt. 5:21-48). 

This perfection existed because everyone heard God’s Word and listened. They received every good gift from God’s hand with open hands and thankful hearts. There was no turning away from Him, no idolatry, no suspicion. God was their everything, and they were His. They trusted Him completely, loved Him above all things, and rested in Him and the gifts He freely gave. And this peace with God spread to peace with the rest of creation (Gen. 1:31; 2:15-25).

People wanted nothing but good for their neighbor. There was no envy, no suspicion, no asking, “What’s in it for me?” Work was joyful and fruitful. Life was whole because the God who created all things was in perfect harmony with each part of His creation. Because the one relationship that matters most was perfect, everything else was perfect.

This perfect world is not a fairy tale. It was the world as God created it to be, and the Ten Commandments are simply a description of what that harmony looked like. The Commandments are not a list of arbitrary rules that God made up after suffering, death, and sin entered the world and everything had already gone wrong. They are the blueprint of creation as God designed it to function. They show us what life looks like when we are right with God which makes us right with our neighbor and right with the rest of creation.

Sin—both your own sin and the sins others commit—is what has disrupted the perfection that God created (Gen. 3:1-19; Ro 5:12). Because of that sin there is now death, pain, lies, anger, betrayal, covetousness, and every brokenness that we live with every moment of every day.

Into that brokenness, God came to reclaim what was lost. He did it in the Garden when He promised to send the Seed of the Woman who would crush the serpent’s head (Gen. 3:15). He did it when He promised Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob that all the families of the world would be blessed through them (Gen. 12:3; 22:18; 26:4; 28:14). God also does it when He speaks these Ten Commandments.

The most overlooked part of the Ten Commandments is what is often referred to as the introduction, “God spoke all these words saying, ‘I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery” (Ex. 20:1-2). Notice that God doesn’t begin with rules His people must keep in order to be His people. He begins with the proclamation, the promise, “I have already claimed you because I have brought you out of slavery. I have made you Mine.” Only after that does God give them the rest of His words that shape the life of His people.

I’ve preached this before, but it bears repeating: Nowhere does the Bible refer to this portion of Scripture as “the Ten Commandments.” Instead, Scripture calls them “the Ten Words” (Ex. 34:28; Dt. 10:4). Notice how, as God speaks them, it isn’t, “You must,” or, “You must not.” It is, “You shall,” and, “You shall not.” These words describe the life of one who belongs to God. This is how life will be if you belong to God.

So, when these words don’t describe us (and that will regularly be the case), that means that we aren’t living as God intends us to live. That is when we need to repent and run back to God and ask Him to rescue us from our deadness and slavery to sin (Ro. 6:1-2).

Also, notice who speaks these words. The text says, “God spoke all these words.” In Hebrew, the word for ‘God’ is Elohim, which is plural. The triune God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—is speaking from that mountain. The Holy Spirit is inspiring the Word. The Father is also there. But it is the Son who speaks these words with His Own voice (c.f. Ex. 3:2-4, 12). Jude 5 explicitly says that Jesus, the Son of God, saved His people out of the land of Egypt. The very Son of God who would come to die and rise again is the One giving the Ten Commandments/Words to His people.

This changes how you hear them, doesn’t it? These are not the cold demands of some distant deity. These are the words of your Savior who loves you and has claimed you by His death and resurrection. He tells you how to live once again in perfect harmony with God and with the rest of creation.

In our Gospel reading today (Mt. 5:17-26), Jesus says, “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Mt. 5:17). Jesus didn’t come to set the Commandments off to the side or to say they don’t matter. He came to fill them up, to keep them perfectly in your place. And He clearly shows us just how deep they go. It is not only murder that breaks the 5th Commandment—anger in the heart does too. It is not only adultery that breaks the 6th—lust does too. The Commandments are multifaceted. They reach into the heart. They expose us. They show us that we have not lived as the people God has claimed us to be.

That’s why the Law accuses. Because of our sin, we cannot fill what God requires. When Jesus says that He’d come to fulfill and accomplish the Law and Prophets (Mt. 5:17-18), He’s giving us a picture. Imagine that God has given each of us a five-gallon bucket and says, “Fill this bucket to the brim and overflowing with perfect obedience, with holiness, with good works done from a pure heart.” That is what He asks. But what do we do with that bucket? In our sin and weakness, we don’t fill it. Instead, we toss it around, spill its contents, and leave it empty and damaged. We turn inward and are selfish, lazy, and rebellious. We do not love God with all our heart. We do not love our neighbor as ourselves. Our buckets are dry.

But, dear saints, here is the Gospel. Jesus does not come and take the bucket away or wink and say it doesn’t matter. He does not coddle us and say the Commandments are too hard or that we should just ignore them and give up. No! He comes and fills your bucket for you.

Christ lives the perfect life of obedience in your place. Every Commandment kept from the heart, every jot and tittle fulfilled. On the cross, He takes your spilled and empty bucket from your rebellious hands and fills it Himself. He bears the shame. He bears the punishment you and I deserved. He dies the death our sin earned. He rises again and hands your bucket back to you full of His perfect obedience. That is what Jesus means when He says that He came to fulfill the law.

Now, because of what He has done, you are claimed by His Blood and filled with His righteousness. You stand before the Father not with your own empty bucket, but with Christ’s overflowing bucket (Gal. 3:27; Ro. 13:14). The Father is pleased with you and proud of you for Jesus’ sake (Heb. 2:10-11).

What this means now is that the Commandments aren’t only accusations standing against you. They are also the path your Savior has already and perfectly walked for you. And they curb sin as you walk through this life and this world. They guide you as His claimed and filled people to love God and to love your neighbor. You do not keep them to earn God’s favor—you already have that in Christ. Now, you keep them because you are His, because His Spirit is at work in you, because this is the life He has given you to live.

When you hear the Commands, do not hear a bunch of impossible demands that God knows you cannot keep. Instead, hear the voice of your Savior who has already kept them for you and who now, by His Spirit, empowers you to walk in them. Because of Christ, you are dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus (Ro. 6:11). Yes, repent when you fail. But also, trust that Christ has filled the bucket. And then, by grace, strive to live as the claimed and filled people you are.

You are not your own. You were bought with a price (1 Co. 6:19-20). You have been claimed out of slavery—out of the slavery of sin and death—and you have been filled with the very life of Christ. That is who you now are because that is whose you are. God has claimed you as His own, and you are filled by God with the perfection of Jesus. God be praised! Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

Hope that Heralds – Sermon on 1 Peter 3:8-17 for the Fifth Sunday after Trinity

1 Peter 3:8-17

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Look again at v. 15. (I’m sorry the sermon reading fell on a page turn in your bulletin.) Peter encourages you to always be ready to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you. So, Peter anticipates that you, Christian, will face a particular question about your hope. This question implies that hope isn’t only something that’s deep inside you—in your mind or heart. No, dear saints, your hope is something that will manifest itself. Your hope speaks. Your hope heralds to the world because your hope changes, guides, and directs who you are. Your hope influences how you use your words and how you behave in such a way that the world is going to recognize that there is something different about you. Believer, Jesus declares that you are the light of the world (Mt. 5:14). When you are asked about the reason for the hope within you, that is because Jesus has made you the light of the world that shines in a dark place.

So, I have a question: When was the last time somebody asked you that? When was the last time somebody asked you, “Why do you hope the way you do?” or, “What’s the reason for your hope?” Maybe some of you get asked this question regularly—all the time. But I would guess that most of us aren’t fielding that question too often. And there are a couple possible reasons we aren’t asked this question.

One reason is that you don’t actually hope in anything different than what the world hopes. You just blend right in with them. Like the world, you hope that your income will cover your expenses. Like the world, you hope that your retirement account will keep growing or (if you’re already retired) will last long enough. Like the world, you hope that the wars and violence and troubles you see will settle down. The world might not see any difference between your hopes and theirs, so they aren’t going to ask you why you hope the way they do. Now, just to be clear, none of those hopes are bad or sinful per se. But if that’s all you hope for and you don’t have higher hopes, you should repent and examine your priorities. As a Christian, your priorities and hopes should be much higher and have a lot longer view than that.

The second reason you might not be asked for the reason for the hope in you is that you actually are being asked this question—you just don’t realize it. And I think this reason is much more likely. That’s why Peter tells us that we need to be prepared. I’m willing to wager that people really are asking about your hope, but they aren’t asking verbatim, “What is the reason for the hope that is in you?”

Instead, they might just start talking about things that are happening in their life because their life isn’t going well. Or they might comment on the news and how chaotic things are all over the world. They are concerned about things going on around them and talk about that, but they’re actually asking you for a reason for your hope, they just don’t say it straight out because they’re embarrassed or scared to admit their fears and worries.

You’ve probably gotten used to people ‘testing the waters’ (so to speak) with other kinds of questions. We Midwesterners are especially known for this. You’ve probably had people ask you about your plans for the weekend, but what they’re really asking is if they can tag along with you. (I’m not saying that’s wrong or that the person is lying, but being direct is usually a better way to converse with others.) 

Some people will talk to you about things that they don’t feel comfortable talking about with others. What they’re doing—even though they don’t realize it—is asking you to explain why you’re different or why you have the hope that you have as a believer. Part of being prepared to make a defense is being able to discern when someone is opening a door for you to give the reason for your hope.

So, what is the reason for your hope? What makes a Christian’s hope so different that it shows, that it is manifest, that it heralds? At the end of v. 14, Peter says, “Have no fear of them, nor be troubled.” Literally, the Greek there reads, “Do not fear what they fear.” Most translations do something similar to what the ESV does. (I don’t want to get too deep into the reason it’s translated that way because it takes a while. You can ask me later.) Basically, the verse is specifically addressing the topic of believers who might be suffering and face persecution for doing what is right. But the principle reaches further than just that. The reason you believers have a hope that will bring inquiries is the simple fact that you aren’t afraid of the things this world is afraid of. The things that terrify unbelievers don’t cause you any concern.

Think of how anxious you would be if you didn’t have faith in Christ. Unbelievers live in the false idea that they have to make their own way in this world without a loving Creator who is their heavenly Father. Without a merciful Redeemer who died for all their sins. And without a comforting Sanctifier who advocates for them in heaven’s courtroom. That would be horrible, but even beyond that, unbelievers have to earn their own happiness. If they want any sense of security and safety, it would have to come from their own hands. Basically, they would have to fight for it. Their conscience testifies against them, so they struggle with always having to excuse their sin or live under that constant accusation. For an unbeliever every aspect of life is full of uncertainty. If they believe this world and life is all there is, then it truly is a survival of the fittest. Even if they believe there is a god (little ‘g’ god), they don’t know for certain how to get that god on their side.

In our Gospel reading (Lk. 5:1-11), we saw how Peter had known that kind of fear firsthand. He was going about his life with his boat, his nets, and his fish trying to make a living in this world. Suddenly, Peter realized that he was standing before the almighty Son of God. He fell to his knees and cried out, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Lk. 5:8). Everything that mattered to Peter evaporated in a moment because he realized God was there with him in the boat and that he was a sinner. Unbelievers know the same thing could happen to them at any moment. Anyone who doesn’t have faith in Christ knows—deep down, they know—that any sense of security they have could be pulled out from under them in a flash because their security and their hopes are all a facade.

But for you, dear saints, you don’t fear what the world fears. You don’t have to worry about your future because it is in God’s omnipotent, merciful hands. You don’t have to be afraid for your health, your home, your children, your job. You have nothing to fear because you have God’s promise to forgive you all of your sins.

As a believer, you know that you are now a child of God. You know that, because you have the forgiveness of your sins, you are a citizen of the kingdom of heaven. Sure, you are still a citizen of this world and fall into similar worries of unbelievers. But you also believe in the life of the world to come. Yes, you have an earthly citizenship and a heavenly one, so the trials and tribulations of this world hit you differently because you have a higher hope.

Stick with me as I change gears for a minute to reflect on your hope in light of the 250th birthday of our country.

America isn’t perfect. (There’s an understatement for you.) America isn’t perfect, but it is still one of if not the most blessed nations God has ever given throughout the history of the world. I’m not talking about the country we had 10, 20, 50, or however many years ago. I’m talking about the country you woke up in this morning. We should be extremely and profoundly thankful for the nation we have right now.

You live in a nation where the Word of God is plentiful. You probably have several Bibles in your home. Even if you don’t have a physical Bible, you can get one on a device. You are free to gather with other Christians. In fact, you could move anywhere in this country and be within an hour’s drive to a faithful Lutheran congregation where the Word is taught in its truth and purity and the Sacraments are given as Christ instituted them. God has richly blessed us. We should make it a point today (and every day) to thank Him.

Yet even in this blessed nation, people live in fear. They are anxious about the news, about division, about the economy, about the future. They are afraid of what might happen if things keep going the way they are or if they don’t return to something else in the past. But you, believer, you do not have to live that way because your hope is different. You have Christ. And in Christ, you have a good conscience before God.

You are prepared to give a defense of your hope because you have a good conscience. That’s why you aren’t afraid of what they fear. That’s why you are ready to give a defense for the hope that is in you. You have a good conscience.

Sure, you have plenty going on in your life, just like everyone else in this world does. But unlike them, you can live unafraid, with a clean conscience before your heavenly Father for the sake of Christ Jesus. God is not against you—He is for you. Christ has cleansed you from all your sins by His blood. He has sprinkled you clean in Baptism. He feeds you with His own Body and Blood in the Supper. He promises to bring you to the home of your hope in heaven.

That is why your hope heralds. It shows, and people notice the difference. They ask—sometimes directly—but often in roundabout ways. Dear saints, be ready. The reason for the hope that is in you is Jesus. He has taken away your sin. He has given you a good conscience. He is your hope now and forever. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

Order in the Court – Sermon on Luke 6:36-42 for the Fourth Sunday after Trinity

Luke 6:36-42

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Jesus’ words, “Judge not,” might currently be the most quoted portion of Scripture. I don’t have any data or statistics to back up that statement. It’s just an observation. The reason it’s so popular is that every person who has ever existed has a conscience that is judging them. Everyone’s conscience recognizes that things they have done and said and thought are wrong—whether they are bad, hurtful, or just plain evil. Everyone has a conscience that makes an argument and a case against them. Everyone’s conscience testifies against them that they are guilty. This is true for me. That is true for you. That is true for everyone you meet.

The only way to silence that guilt is by the blood of Jesus. Sadly, that doesn’t stop anyone from trying to silence that guilt in other ways. Ripping this statement of Jesus out of context is one of those ways. Often, when someone demands that you, “Judge not,” that is their own futile attempt to tell their own conscience to stop condemning them. That person probably recognizes their guilt but is trying to silence it.

Everyone is constantly making judgments of other people. (Ironically, when someone throws these words of Jesus in your face, “Judge not,” they are making a judgment.) Now, in some instances, our judgments do go against what Jesus is commanding us not to do. In other instances, judging is what God calls individuals to do. Today, I want to examine the Scriptures to see when we can—and even must—make judgments and when we must not make judgments. The difference between the two has eternal consequences.

Let’s start with situations where Scripture teaches that God commands you to make judgments. I’ve included a table of Scripture passages in the bulletin in case you want to look them up later.

The first one is in your vocations (e.g. Eph. 6:4; Ro. 13:3-4; Pr. 31:9). If you’re in law enforcement, God has given you the task of making constant judgments—both for and against people. When you get pulled over by a police officer, you can’t fight a ticket by saying, “Jesus says, ‘Judge not.’ So, you can’t give me that ticket.” That officer is doing a good work by giving you that ticket. The same goes for judges. When they render judgments and prison sentences and rulings, they are doing good works that God has placed them in those positions to do. Parents, you need to make judgments all the time. When your kids get into an argument, you need to judge who needs to be punished. You need to make judgments if it’s ok for your child to go to that friend’s house based on what you know about the character of their parents. You need to make judgments on what is and isn’t good to feed your kids, what time they need to go to bed, how much screen time they have or don’t have. If you own a business, you need to make judgments on how much that employee should be paid, what products and services you provide, who to hire and fire. In any of those vocations, you can’t neglect that responsibility. God put you there to make those judgments. If you neglect that responsibility because Jesus says, “Judge not,” know that is not the way a Christian should act. Make those judgments with the wisdom God has given you, and know that those judgments are good and pleasing in God’s sight.

The second place you are to make judgments is in areas of doctrine. You need to be judging if you are hearing and reading true teaching that aligns with God’s Word or if it is false teaching that contradicts God’s Word. In Matthew 7:15-20 (a text you’ll hear in just a few weeks), Jesus says, “Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.” You have to do that. For the good of your soul, you must do it. And the only way you can do that is to make judgments. 1 John 4:1 and a whole slew of other passages call believers to make these judgments of doctrine. As a believer, you have this responsibility from Jesus Himself.

Third, Christians are given the duty to judge fellow Christians. Every Christian congregation is designed by God to be a place where believers hold each other accountable. A congregation isn’t just a country club where we all support each other no matter what. Hopefully, you are finding kindness, support, generosity, and whatnot. But believers are also called to hold each other accountable. Galatians 6:1 says, “Brothers,” so it’s talking to Christians, “Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him,” and here’s the important part, “restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted.”

Dear saints, you are your brother and sister’s keeper. You need to be on the lookout. If one of your fellow Christians is flirting with a spiritually dangerous position, you are to warn them. And if a fellow believer warns you, take it seriously. Don’t just lash back, “Well, you’re being judgmental, and Jesus says, ‘Judge not.’” No! That’s his responsibility. At the end of 1 Corinthians 5, Paul says, “What have I to do with judging outsiders? Is it not those inside the church whom you are to judge?” And Paul there uses the same word Jesus uses here. Jesus says, “Judge not,”and Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit says, “You’re supposed to judge believers.”

So far, this is what Jesus is not forbidding when He says, “Judge not.” It’s important for us to remember what He isn’t saying so we aren’t ashamed to do the good works He has given us to do. Jesus has put you in certain places—certain courtrooms—where you are to make judgments. In your vocations, in areas of doctrine, and holding other believers accountable. In those places, make those judgments because Scripture has given you that calling.

Now, to what Jesus is forbidding. He is warning us against our futile attempts to remove Him from the judgment seat.

Imagine the heavenly courtroom. There, we belong in the defendant’s chair. In that divine courtroom, we stand guilty. Our conscience knows it. Anyone else in there knows it. The Judge knows it most of all. We are guilty. We have no possible defense. Our mouths are silenced (Ro. 3:19). But the Holy Spirit reveals God’s mercy in the Scriptures. We know the character of our Judge. He is merciful. That’s why Jesus says, “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.”

The Judge who sits on the bench is your own Father in heaven. He desires to forgive you—and He does. He declares that you are not guilty for the sake of Jesus. Christ made the full payment for your all sins on the cross. When Jesus talks about the good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, He is not talking about grain. He is talking about the forgiveness He pours out on you. He gives you so much forgiveness that you can’t contain it all.

This mercy is for you and for the other defendants in that courtroom. Your neighbors—your spouse, your child, your parents, your fellow Christian, all who believe in Christ—receive the same verdict, the same abundant mercy. The cross paid for their sins too. That’s how it is in God’s courtroom. In your heart, you might think that you are able to sit on the judgment seat. But you are wrong. You don’t belong there. And all your efforts to take that seat are futile.

The order in God’s courtroom is clear: God sits on the judgment seat full of abundant, divine mercy (Ro. 2:16, 14:10; Jn. 5:22). We remain in the defendant’s chair, receiving it. And because Jesus’ sacrifice was for the sin of the world (Jn. 1:29; 1 Jn 2:2), our neighbor is forgiven too. But here is our problem: We are tempted to change that order. We gladly receive the mercy for ourselves, but when God forgives our neighbor—especially the one who has sinned against us—we object. Our hurt runs deep. The betrayal stings. So, in our hearts we rise from the defendant’s chair, push the merciful Judge aside, and try to take the bench ourselves.

There are many ways we try to do this. We make people feel bad for things that Scripture doesn’t condemn. We treat others harshly and pepper our conversations with condescending or belligerent words. We plot ways to make them feel the same pain they have caused us. We give them the silent treatment and cut them out of our lives. We act as though they aren’t our neighbor anymore. These are just some of the ways we try to seize the judge’s seat.

Dear saints, that is wrong. Repent. That is not how we are to treat a person for whom Christ has died. You are commanded to love that neighbor and be merciful as your Father is merciful. Reach out. Do what you can to reconnect. Call them. If you don’t think you can talk to them without yelling, write them an email. If even that is hard, at least act as though you aren’t angry—not only when you are around that person, but even when you think of that person. You might be surprised that your heart will start to follow your actions.

And let me just say that love might need to look different in different situations. Depending on how that person has sinned against you, you might need help in figuring out how to love that neighbor. As your pastor, I’m here to help. If we can’t figure it out together, I can help connect you with someone who can. Please know that I’m here for that.

Dear saints, you cannot remove Jesus from His judgment seat any more than you can remove Him from the cross. It is finished. The sins of the world—yours and your neighbor’s—are paid for. That will not change. It is done. The cross is complete. Thanks be to God for His mercy to us. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

Daily – Sermon on Luke 15:1-10 for the Third Sunday after Trinity

Luke 15:1-10

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Luke 15 is a well-known chapter with three parables. Even though you only heard the first two today, you know the third one—the parable often called “The Prodigal Son.” It would probably be better if it were called “The Merciful Father” or something along those lines. The three parables belong together as one unit.

One of the common misconceptions we can have about these parables is that they only deal with conversion. But Jesus makes it clear—especially when He makes His concluding comments on these first two—that they deal with repentance, not just conversion. Of course, repentance is present in conversion, but it is also present in the daily life of a Christian. Before the confession of sins in our service, we regularly refer to 1 John 1:8-9, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.” Not only is John writing that to Christians, he also includes himself in that statement. “If we say we have no sin…” The Apostle John recognizes that he has sin, and if he were to say otherwise would mean that the truth is not in him.

Today, I want to consider these two parables in that light because it helps us see that each and every day of our lives, we are that one lost sheep and one lost coin. We’re going to do that based on what we believe, teach, and confess from Luther’s Small Catechism from the section on Baptism. In your bulletin, you’ll find that I’ve printed the fourth question and answer. I’ll read the question, and I’d like all of us to read the answer that is drawn from Romans 6:4 and its context.

“What does such Baptizing with water signify? It signifies that the old Adam in us, together with all sins and evil lusts, should be drowned by daily sorrow and repentance and be put to death; and that the new man should daily come forth and rise to live before God in righteousness and holiness forever.”

The Christian life is marked by daily repentance. Christian, as long as you still have breath in your lungs, you have a need to repent. The old Adam in each of us needs to be drowned daily. These parables aren’t just about unbelievers; they are about us.

This is clear from v. 1 of the text, “The tax collectors and sinners were all drawing near to hear Him.” Notice why they are coming to Jesus. They aren’t just coming to be close to Jesus or have a meal with Him. They do get those things, but that isn’t the purpose of their coming to Jesus. They are coming to hear Him. What sort of things would they be hearing from Jesus?

Jesus wasn’t teaching only about love and acceptance. He was clearly showing and declaring God’s mercy. He taught that He was going to suffer, die, and rise for sinners (Lk. 9:22, 44-45; 12:50; 13:32-33; 17:25; 18:31-33). So, yes, He was teaching them the Gospel. But that wasn’t all He was teaching. Jesus was also clearly teaching the Law.

If you just look at the context of what Jesus had been teaching right before this chapter, you get a better idea of what these sinners and tax collectors were hearing from Jesus (Lk. 14:26-33). Christ was teaching, “If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his own father,” (happy Father’s Day) “If anyone comes to Me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and even his own life, he cannot be My disciple” (Lk. 14:26). Jesus goes on to talk about counting the cost of following Him (Lk. 14:27-32). And He concludes by saying, “Any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be My disciple” (Lk. 14:33).

A lot of people today—especially in the month of June—will say, “Jesus loves you just the way you are.” There is some truth there, but it’s only a half truth, which is very dangerous. Sure, Scripture teaches that Jesus loves you just the way you are, but the full truth is that Jesus has no intention of leaving you just the way you are. That full truth is much, much better news. Jesus loves you even though you are a sinner. Sinners are enemies of God, and Jesus came to reconcile sinners to become friends and sons of God who are made holy and blameless (Ro. 5:10; Col. 1:21-22).

The Pharisees and scribes were grumbling (Lk. 15:2) because they wrongly thought that Jesus was simply welcoming sinners without calling them to turn from their sin. But that wasn’t the case, was it? No! Not when we see these parables in their context. Jesus knew exactly what kind of people were coming to hear Him. That’s why He proclaimed both the Law and the Gospel. He knew the gravity of their sins—the cheating, the waste, the lies, the pain they caused others and God.

Take that idea into these two parables—especially as they describe how the shepherd and the woman seek to find the lost sheep and the lost coin. The shepherd doesn’t wait for the sheep to feel lost or to bleat for help. It’s possible that the sheep didn’t even know it was lost. The woman doesn’t wait for the coin to ask for help from the dusty crack in the floor. The coin definitely didn’t know it was lost. Both the shepherd and the woman do whatever is necessary to find what was missing. And they both do it with joy.

Again, this seeking and finding is not a one-time event for unbelievers. This is the daily rhythm of your life as a Christian. Jesus does whatever is necessary—again and again—to find you when you go missing in the wilderness and cracks of sin. He doesn’t wait for you to feel your lostness. He doesn’t sit back and wait for you to take the first step. He takes the initiative daily, and He does it with a divine heart full of mercy.

In Ezekiel, God asks, “Have I any pleasure in the death of the wicked, and not rather that he should turn from his way and live?” (Ezk. 18:23). In Jeremiah, God speaks about His wayward child, “As often as I speak against him, I do remember him still. Therefore my heart yearns for him; I will surely have mercy on him, declares the Lord” (Jer. 31:20).

Theologians will use a term to talk about how God calls sinners out for their sin through the Law. They call it God’s “alien” or “strange work” (Is. 28:21) because God describes Himself as merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness (Ex. 34:6-7). When God threatens, judges, and calls to repentance, He does that so He can do His “proper work” of forgiving, restoring, and delivering His mercy (1 Sam. 2:6), which is the work He delights to do. Even though His work through the Law is His “alien work,” He does it joyfully because His heart longs for you to be His own. He remembers you with mercy even though it means that He must speak against you and your sin through His Word.

That is what is happening every time you gather together here and every time you hear God’s Word. He is seeking you even while your old, sinful nature clings to you and needs daily drowning. He doesn’t wait for you to be sufficiently sorry or desperate. He comes to you in the preaching of His Word (Ro. 10:17). He seeks you out wherever you are—in whatever desolate wilderness or dusty corner your sins have led you. He picks you up, lays you on His shoulders, and rejoices to bring you home.

Dear saints, God does not expect you to become like the ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance (Lk. 15:7) or like the nine coins that never get lost. Those are the ones who falsely imagine they have moved beyond the need for daily repentance. Every day, you are the one. Every day, you are the lost sheep who is carried home. You are the coin He searches for diligently. And your Savior has great joy in daily seeking and restoring you.

Here, Jesus teaches that what brings joy to heaven is not your consistency or your record of good works—even though God delights in the fruit of faith. But what moves Christ and all of heaven to rejoicing is when you receive God’s forgiveness. When you believe the Absolution. When you receive Christ’s Body and Blood that forgive you and strengthen you.

Dear saints, your Savior does not merely tolerate your daily repentance, He seeks it. He gives it (Act. 11:18, 5:31; 2 Ti. 2:25). And He rejoices in it with exceeding joy. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

After – Sermon on Genesis 15:1-6 for the First Sunday after Trinity

Genesis 15:1-6

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Life can be a roller coaster of ups and downs. The ‘ups’ can include a health scare that passes, a rocky relationship that is mended, a debt that gets paid. When you get through those things, you start to think, “Now, I can breathe. I got through that hard stretch, so things will settle down.” And, for a while, they do. But then, the next trouble shows up, and the ‘downs’ return.

The test results come back with a new anomaly. The mechanic lets you know about an expensive repair, and your finances are already tight. Your reputation gets thrown into question by a nasty rumor. Those are the moments when the doubt creeps in again. You are delivered from one battle only to find yourself in another. In those moments, it’s easy to forget all the times God has rescued you. So, you start to wonder, “How will I get myself out of this mess?” Completely removing God from the equation.

This pattern of ups and downs is repeated throughout Scripture. Today, we see it in the life of Abraham. Now, I know he’s called ‘Abram’ here in Gen. 15 and that God doesn’t change his name to ‘Abraham’ until Gen. 17:5. But just for the sake of ease, I’m calling him ‘Abraham’ through this sermon.

Our text opens with, “after these things…” assuming you know the context of what’s happened in Abraham’s life up to this point. Those words, “after these things,” point us back to Abraham’s ‘before’ so we can understand the ‘after’ that follows. Let me summarize: God called Abraham to leave his homeland and go to a land God would show him. God promised that He would make Abraham into a great nation and bless all the families of the earth through him (Gen. 12:1-3). Abraham brought his nephew, Lot with him. Abraham and Lot were so prosperous that the land couldn’t support them both (Gen. 13:6), so they decided to split up. Abraham let Lot pick where he would settle, and Lot preferred the valley near Sodom because it was “like the garden of the Lord” (Gen. 13:10). But after a while, Lot found himself in some serious trouble.

Four kings, who ruled over a massive area that extended from modern day Iran all the way to Egypt decided to fight against five kings in Canaan (including the king of Sodom) who were rebelling against them (Gen. 14:1-4). Those four kings defeated them and took Lot, his family, and all his possessions away (Gen. 14:11-12). When Abraham heard that Lot had been taken captive, he went out with a small company of 318 men and defeated those four kings and pursued them all the way to Damascus (Gen. 14:14-15). Based on numbers alone, it wasn’t a battle Abraham should have won, but God blessed him and his men with the victory.

Abraham brought everything back—Lot, the people, the goods (Gen. 14:16-20). Then, Abraham returned home and settled back into his land. You can almost hear him thinking, “Now I can rest. The battle is over, and I’ve won. God has been faithful.”

Now comes the ‘after.’ After these things the word of the Lord came to Abraham in a vision. Notice, God speaks first. He doesn’t wait for Abraham to say anything. God makes two promises. The first is, “Fear not, Abram, I am your Shield.” (Gen. 15:1). God says this after He had already proven that promise. It’s as though we should understand that Shield promise as God saying, “Don’t think for one minute that you defeated those four kings because you suddenly turned into a skillful general, Abraham. You won that battle because I am your Shield.”

Then comes the second promise, “Your reward shall be very great.” Different translations handle this differently. This can be understood as God recalling all His previous promises. Or, it can be understood as God Himself being Abraham’s great Reward. Either way, we can tell that Abraham was struggling with doubt. “O Lord God, what will you give me, for I continue childless?” (Gen. 15:2). Abraham is struggling to believe the promise of a reward. Even after this great deliverance, even after seeing God work in a mighty way, unbelief began to creep into Abraham’s heart. God had given Abraham the promise of a son, but nothing had happened. No child. No pregnancy. No heir. Eliezer from Damascus was the best option. Back then, couples that didn’t have children would adopt a household servant to become their heir. That servant would take care of the couple as they aged and would inherit their property as payment for that care.

Eliezer could have been a member of Abraham’s household for a long time. But it is possible that Eliezer had been acquired by Abraham when Abraham rescued Lot up at Damascus. Either way, in Abraham’s mind, God was a long way from fulfilling His promise of giving Abraham a son, and Abraham is very open and honest with his doubt. “What are you waiting for, God? It looks like this guy from Damascus is going to inherit everything.”

God doesn’t rebuke his honesty. Instead, He answers with a promise that is even more specific. “This man shall not be your heir. Your very own Son shall be your heir” (Gen. 15:4). Then, He takes Abraham outside to do some counting. “Number the stars if you can. So shall your offspring (lit. ‘seed’) be” (Gen. 15:5). God turns astronomy into theology. The same God who made each and every one of those uncountable stars was promising uncountable descendants.

Yes, God was promising that Abraham would be the patriarch of numerous descendants. But even more than that God was also promising Abraham a descendant, a particular Offspring—the Messiah, Jesus (Gal. 3:16). That Seed who would come from Abraham’s own body would be the one who would crush the serpent’s head (Gen. 3:15) and bless all the families of the earth (Gen. 12:3).

Then comes that beautiful verse, “[Abraham] believed the Lord, and He counted it to him as righteousness” (Gen. 15:6). Abraham didn’t create this faith in himself. God spoke. God promised. And by that Word, the Holy Spirit created faith in Abraham’s heart. That faith received what God gave. And God declared Abraham righteous—not because of anything Abraham had done, but because of the promise he believed.

After this night filled with God’s promise, I wonder how the rest of Abraham’s nights went until Isaac was finally born. How often was he kept awake with his doubts until he’d finally go back outside to count the stars again? How often did Abraham look up at the starry sky and pray, “That’s a big promise, God!”?

Dear saints, you also know this pattern of the ‘after’ that Abraham found himself in too. The crisis passes. The burden lifts. You think the struggle is over. But then, comes the ‘after.’ A new trouble arrives. Anxiety returns. Doubt whispers. And we ask, “Lord, what are You going to do for me now?” Like Abraham, you are saved but still struggling.

Remember that Abraham’s Lord is also your Lord. He is your Shield and your great Reward too. He doesn’t point you to the stars, but He does point you to the waters of your Baptism, where He gave you the new birth (Jn. 3:5), joined you to (Ro. 6:3-5) and clothed you with Christ (Gal. 3:27). He points you to the Bread and Wine of Communion and says, “Take; eat and drink this for the forgiveness of your sins” (Mt. 26:27-28).

You have those promises because the Seed of Abraham has come. Jesus is your Shield from God’s wrath against your sin. He is your great Reward who gives Himself to you. 

Struggles will come after deliverances. Trials will come after rescues. But God remains the same in the ‘after.’ His promises still hold. Your Shield still protects. Your Reward continually gives Himself.

Dear saints, it can be easy to forget about all God’s blessings in the ‘before.’ Worry and anxiety can quickly fill your heart in the ‘after.’ Don’t hold either of them too tightly. The past—the ‘before’—is for thankfulness. The future—the ‘after’—is for hope. In the ‘now,’ fix your eyes on Christ where true joys are found because the faith that looks to Jesus is still credited to you as righteousness. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.

Holy Conversation – Sermon for Holy Trinity Sunday on the Athanasian Creed with Isaiah 6:1-8 as the Starting Point

Isaiah 6:1-8

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

We will get into this text from Isaiah a bit, but right off the bat, two things need to be addressed. The first is that second-to-last line of the Athanasian Creed we just confessed. In your bulletin, it’s on p. 6. It’s the line that reads: “Those who have done good will enter eternal life, and those who have done evil will go into everlasting fire.” That can sound like we’re confessing that salvation is based on works. But that line (as well as the line before it) is basically quoting what Jesus says in John 5. Jesus says that the hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear His voice. Then, our Lord says, “Those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment” (Jn. 5:28-29). So, we should ask ourselves, “Since this is what we confess in the Athanasian Creed, are we wrong when we say that we are saved by grace alone through faith alone?” The answer is a resounding, “No!”

The tension arises because of how we define ‘good.’ Because we are sinners, we grade goodness on a curve. When a one-year-old child takes her first tedious, wobbly steps, her parents praise her. They don’t expect her to glide across the room like at 27.78 mph like Usain Bolt. Scripture tells us that God’s standard for goodness is perfection and holiness (Mt. 5:48; 1 Pet. 1:15-16). So, how do we get this perfection? The Bible is clear that it is only through faith.

The Bible defines what works aren’t good. Romans 14:23 says, “Whatever does not proceed from faith is sin.” And Hebrews 11:6 says, “Without faith it is impossible to please [God].” By faith you are pleasing to God because God counts that faith as righteousness (Gen. 15:6; Hab. 2:4; Ro. 4:3ff). By faith, God takes away all your sin and adds to you the perfect obedience and every good work of Jesus. By faith, you have done good and will enter eternal life. Romans 4:5says, “To the one who does not work but believes in Him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness” (cf. Ro. 9:30-32; 1 Co. 1:30; Php. 3:9; Gal. 2:16).

So, that’s the first thing. Yes, the Bible speaks about a judgment of those who have done good and those who have done evil. And the Bible teaches that goodness only comes through faith in the crucified and risen Jesus Christ.

The second thing I want to address is the history of Trinity Sunday. Holy Trinity Sunday exists because the laity—the average Christians in Alexandria, Greece, Rome, and England—wanted to have a festival to celebrate the Trinity. The clergy resisted, arguing that every Sunday was already dedicated to the worship of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. But the laity were right. Let me just throw out one caveat before I go further. I’m summarizing several hundred years of Church history here. Don’t picture this as something that happened at a congregational annual meeting or at the AFLC Annual Conference.

The clergy only saw the Trinity as a doctrine, and the Church didn’t have feasts for doctrine. The Church doesn’t have an “Original Sin Sunday.” But the laity rightly kept pushing because the Trinity isn’t just a doctrine. It’s a Person (or Persons, plural). If we only see the Trinity as a doctrine to be learned, we’re missing something very important. The Trinity is who God is—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Today, we celebrate that we worship one God in three Persons and three Persons in one God.

Now, to this Isaiah text. I’ve preached on it in the past, and if you want, I can give you those sermons later. Just to quickly summarize, Isaiah has this vision of the holy, holy, holy God sitting on the throne. Isaiah is terrified because he knows he’s a sinner. God sends a seraph to deliver forgiveness exactly to the location that Isaiah felt his sin—to his lips. There are weeks’, if not months’, worth of sermons on those first seven verses. But I want to limit our focus today on Isaiah 6:8.

This is a text you might have memorized. But don’t let your familiarity with it make you miss the wonder here. Listen carefully. Isaiah writes, “I heard the voice,” singular, one voice. “I heard the voice of the Lord,” again, singular, one Lord. “I heard the voice of the Lord saying, ‘Whom shall I send,’” singular, one Sender. But that voice of the Lord rephrases the question, “Who will go for Us?”—plural. Multiple. More than one.

Do you hear what is happening there? The Lord is having a conversation, but this conversation isn’t with the seraphim. They’re too busy worshipping and calling out, “Holy, holy, holy.” God is speaking within Himself. The One God in three Persons—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—is having fellowship and communicating within the Trinity. And this text from Isaiah isn’t the first time this happens.

On the sixth day of creation God said, “Let Us make man in Our image, after Our likeness” (Gen. 1:26f). After the Fall, God says, “Behold, the man has become like one of Us in knowing good and evil” (Gen. 3:22). At the Tower of Babel, God says, “Let Us go down and there confuse their language” (Gen. 11:7). Scripture also clearly teaches that God is one: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Dt. 6:4). In the first Commandment, God says, “You shall have no other gods before Me,” singular (Ex. 20:3). 

The Old Testament makes clear that there is a plurality and singularity in God. The key to unlocking this mystery is found best in the New Testament. God is one in essence, but also three distinct Persons—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Those three Persons have always existed in perfect relationship with one another. You know this from Sunday School and Confirmation, but let it play out in your mind today.

Before the world existed, before the Fall into sin, before God created mankind—in fact before anything was created—your triune God was already planning your salvation. Scripture says that Jesus is the Lamb who was slain before the foundation of the world (1 Pet. 1:19-20). Jesus teaches that you who believe will inherit the kingdom that was prepared for you from before the foundation of the world (Mt. 25:34). The book of Revelation says that your name was written in the Book of Life before anything was created (Rev. 13:8; 17:8). Ephesians says that your Triune God chose you to be holy and blameless in Christ from before the foundation of the world (Eph. 1:4). So, let this be clear in your mind: All three Persons of the Trinity—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—have eternally been conversing about you and your salvation.

Dear saints, this is the wonder of the God we worship. He is not just an idea or some principle. He is personal. In the Scriptures, in the Absolution, in your Baptism, at His Table, the Triune God says “I” to you. He says, “I have loved you with an everlasting love” (Jer. 31:3). He comforts you, “I, I am He who blots out your transgressions for My own sake” (Is. 43:25). He promises, “I am with you always, to the end of the age”(Mt. 28:20). And because He is personal, you get to answer. You get to pray, “You are my God” (Jn. 20:28; Ps. 31:14, 63:1, 88:1). You get to say, “You have redeemed me” (Ps. 31:5). You get to cry out, “You are my Refuge and my Strength” (Ps. 18:2; 46:1) Salvation is God’s work, but is notjust a one-way transaction. It is real fellowship with the living God who has always been in conversation within Himself and who now invites you into that conversation.

In that conversation, God calls you to have a part and input through prayer. Here in Isaiah, the Trinity speaks about the mission of bringing salvation to the lost by asking, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” (Is. 6:8). And Isaiah was brought into that conversation, so he can respond, “Here am I! Send me.”

Dear saints, you do not go about in this world as a nameless servant. You go out as one who is known by God Himself. The Father who has always spoken to the Son now speaks to you as His own dear child. The Son who has always answered the Father unites you to Himself so that you belong to Him. The Spirit who has always shared in their fellowship now dwells in you and teaches you to cry out, “Abba, Father” (Ro. 8:15). This is personal. This is the God who thinks of you, who acts for you, and who feels compassion toward you. He is not far off. He speaks, and you can answer.

You have all of this because of my favorite line in the Athanasian Creed. It’s near the bottom of p. 5 of your bulletin and the last non-bold. It rightly confesses that Jesus is both God and Man but still One Christ, “one, that is to say, not by changing the Godhead into flesh but by taking on the humanity into God.” Ponder that today and every day.

In the incarnation of the eternal Son of God, God took on humanity into God. Part of who God is now is that He has a human body just like yours. The holy, eternal, all-knowing, omnipresent God lifted humanity unto Himself by becoming flesh and dying, rising, and ascending into heaven.

Dear saints, this is why we have Trinity Sunday. We are not celebrating an abstract doctrine. We are celebrating the living, personal God—who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—who loved you enough to send the Son for your redemption, and who now speaks to you so that you can answer Him.

Do not settle for knowing about the Trinity. Know the Triune God who speaks. The Father who sent the Son is your Father. The Son who was sent for you has made you His own. The Spirit who proceeds from them both (Jn. 14:26; 16:7; Gal. 4:6) dwells in you and teaches you to speak with God in prayer. This is not just some doctrine that we talk about on Trinity Sunday. This is the daily wonder of your life in Christ.

Cleansed by His Blood and sent by His Spirit, you belong to the personal God who has always been in conversation—and who has now included you in it. Amen.

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (Php. 4:7). Amen.