Category Archives: Historic One Year Lectionary

Pure Religion – Sermon on James 1:22-27 for the Sixth Sunday of Easter

James 1:22-27

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Pop quiz. You’ve probably heard this phrase, so finish it for me, “Christianity isn’t a religion, it’s a [relationship].” I’m going to push back on that. But before I do, I have to say two things. First, I understand the sentiment behind calling Christianity a relationship. I really do. Scripture does talk about believers in relational terms. The Bible is clear that God is our Father (Mt. 6:9), and we are His children (1 Jn. 3:1). Because Christ has come in the flesh, He is our Brother (Jn. 20:17; Heb. 2:11). Through faith, believers are the Bride of Christ (Eph. 5:31-32; Hos. 2:19-20). All of those are relationships. That relational language is clear, important, and Scriptural. The thing I want to point out is that those relationships only exist when a person has the right religion.

Second, the word ‘relationship’ doesn’t actually occur in the Bible—at least not in the Hebrew or Greek. There are a couple modern translations that use it. But the word ‘religion’ is a word the Bible uses. Here, James talks about a ‘worthless’ (lit. ‘vain, vaporous’) religion and a ‘pure’ religion, and there is only one.

Today when people use the word ‘religion’, they often focus on the practices people have. But ‘religion’ mainly has to do with the set of beliefs a person has, and, yes, those beliefs result in practices. We could talk about the different religions of Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hindu, and a myriad of others. But we can distill all religions down to two beliefs. On the one hand, there’s the Christian religion that believes people are made right through faith in Christ. Every other religion believes you have to do something to make yourself right. We can shorten that down even further—there’s the religion of the Gospel and a myriad of religions of law. Or, even more simply, we can say there’s true religion, Christianity, and false religions, everything else. In this text, James wants us to focus on pure, undefiled, true religion.

This text begins with a clear call, “Be doers of the Word and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (Jam. 1:22). Notice what James does not say. He doesn’t divide humanity into people who hear and people who do not hear. Instead, he says there are 1) hearers who become doers and 2) hearers who forget and are not doers. You can’t be a doer without first being a hearer.

The verse right before our text, which you heard in last week’s epistle reading, makes that clear. “Receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls” (Jam. 1:21). The Holy Spirit takes God’s Word, plants it in you, and you grow and produce fruit (Mt. 13:19-23). That Word gives you faith and is able to save your soul (Ro. 10:17). Everything James says in our text today grows out of that implanted Word. 

James helps us understand what this kind of hearing looks like with a vivid analogy that can be confusing. It might feel like he’s mixing metaphors, but he isn’t. James is actually talking about hearing the Word, but he uses the image of seeingin a mirror to show what happens—or doesn’t happen—when we hear. God’s Word is the crystal-clear mirror. You stand before it, and it shows you exactly who you are. All of God’s Word, both Law and Gospel, show you who you are and set you at liberty. 

For example, even the Ten Commandments set us at liberty because they begin, “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery” (Ex 20:2). Before God gives a single command, He tells us who we really are. We are His people, rescued by His mighty hand. To be a doer of that Word is to say back to God and others, “Yes. You are God; we are Your people.”

The only alternative is to turn away and say, “You are not our God; we are not your people.” But to do that is to be the hearer who forgets. He looks in the mirror of the Word, sees his face, and then walks away forgetting what he just saw. Nothing changes, and that makes his religion worthless. He deceives his own heart.

But the one who looks intently into the perfect law of liberty and remains steadfast—he does not forget. He is a doer of the Word. And James promises: this one will be blessed in his doing. Not because the doing earns God’s favor—faith alone saves (Ro. 1:17; Eph. 2:8-9)—but because the doing flows from the gift already received. Faith alone saves, but true faith is never alone.

And that perfect law of liberty is freeing in the deepest sense. The Ten Commandments show us how creation itself works. They are not a ladder by which we to climb up to God. They are the guardrails of the life God has already given us in Christ. They teach us how to love God with all our heart and how to love our neighbor as ourselves. They show us the shape of freedom and of a life of love that reflects the love of God who first loved us.

And when we break those commands and get out of line with how God created us to live, the perfect law of liberty is still freeing. The Gospel comes to tell us that we have a Savior. We have Jesus who died and rose again for us. We have redemption and forgiveness through His blood. God’s Word makes those promises, and we become doers by believing and trusting that what God has said is true.

That is why James can define pure and undefiled religion so clearly in Jam. 1:26-27. Pure religion is to bridle our tongues, so our words give life by confessing the truth of God’s Word instead of tearing down. Pure religion is visiting orphans and widows in their affliction and keeping oneself untainted from the world. These are not new laws that we have to obey to earn God’s love. They are the natural fruit of a faith that remembers who it is in the mirror of the Word. 

In your daily vocations—whether you are a parent, a neighbor, a coworker, a citizen, or a friend—pure religion takes a shape. You notice the outcast and hurting and invite them to lunch. You see the struggling family down the street and drop off a meal or watch their kids so the parents can go on a date. You sit with the widow in the pew and listen to her stories. You advocate for the vulnerable instead of looking the other way. You live in the world but refuse to let its godless values stain your heart. You calmly but boldly speak truth. You show mercy because Christ has first given His mercy to you. And you walk in the freedom Christ has won for you.

Dear saints, that is pure religion—the religion that is pure, and the religion that makes you pure. That religion sets you into a right relationship with God as your Father and you as His children. That relationship only exists because we have the right religion—the religion of the Gospel of Christ.

Jason, that brings me to you. Jason, today is a day of pure joy. You are now Baptized into the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. God has implanted His Word in you which is able to save your soul. You have received the new birth of water and the Spirit that Jesus promised (Jn. 3:3-6). You are joined to Christ’s death and resurrection (Ro. 6:3-7). As the Holy Spirit continues to work in you, you become more and more a doer of the Word.

Jason and all of you, dear saints, keep looking intently into this perfect law of liberty. Come back to it every day in the Scriptures, in the preaching, in the Lord’s Supper. Remember who you are. You are beloved children of the Father, brothers and sisters of the risen Christ, and you are the Bride He has washed clean. Continue to live as doers. Care for the lonely and the hurting. Bridle your tongue and speak life and the forgiveness of Christ. Live in the world but refuse to be stained by it. Do the good works God has prepared for you to walk in—not to earn His favor, but because you already have that favor in full.

This is pure religion. This is true faith. This is the life that is blessed in the doing, all because of the One who lived, died, and rose for you. Amen.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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

Advantageous – Sermon on John 16:5-15 for the Fifth Sunday of Easter

John 16:5-15

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

One of those phrases we just heard from our Lord’s lips comes and goes so fast, it’s easy to miss. But it is one of the most comforting things in all of Scripture. Look again at the end of v. 11. Jesus says that the ruler of this world is judged. That’s a good translation. I’ll just add this. The verb there for the word ‘judged’ is in the perfect tense. That means it’s something that happened in the past, but it has ongoing, lasting results. Jesus says that Satan, your accuser (Rev. 12:10), has been, and forever remains, judged.

To our eyes, it often doesn’t look like that’s the case. We see everything going on in the world, and we’re tempted to think that the devil keeps winning. That’s why we need the Holy Spirit to keep doing His work of convicting us of judgment—not our judgment, but the devil’s judgment. The word translated ‘convict’ means ‘to reveal, expose, or convince.’ ‘Convict’ here is like when we talk about someone who has deep conviction. The Holy Spirit comes to convince us that the one found guilty is the devil. Satan has been judged, condemned.

That means, dear saints, that the devil is not winning. He isn’t losing either. No. He’s already lost. He has no power.

If the devil had any power at all and got his way in the world, do you think that we’d be able to gather here this morning to hear God’s Word? If the devil was getting his way, there’s no way that you would have heard at the beginning of our service that your sins are entirely forgiven for the sake of Jesus. If the devil was getting his way, you wouldn’t be able to come up here to Christ’s table to receive Jesus’ Body and Blood for the forgiveness of all your sins. All those things would go away if the devil had any power.

That worm would gladly give up the desecration of marriage in our culture. He’d be happy to let abortion be outlawed if he could stop the Gospel being proclaimed. He’d stop tempting people to be violent, rebellious, and depraved if he could prevent the Gospel ringing forth from this and other Christian pulpits. Satan would gladly make that trade. But the devil can’t make that happen. He can’t defeat the preaching of the Gospel. It isn’t possible.

This is why Jesus calls the Holy Spirit’s coming advantageous for you. I’m sure the disciples were stunned and confused when Jesus told them, “It is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you. But if I go, I will send Him to you”(Jn. 16:7).

To the disciples this sounded like loss, not advantage. Their beloved Teacher was leaving. Their Friend was going to the cross. How could that possibly be better? Yet Jesus insists it is advantageous, profitable, and beneficial for them. Why? Because this departure isn’t referring to His ascension to God’s right hand. The departure Jesus talks about is His death on the cross where He pays the full price for all your sins. And when that price was paid, the curtain of the Temple was torn in two (Mt. 27:51; Heb. 10:19-20). The separation between us sinners and the holy God was no longer needed. Jesus’ departure and death won your full, complete salvation and resulted in the sending of the Holy Spirit, who now takes everything Jesus won for us and delivers it personally to you and me.

That’s the advantage. The devil stands judged, and you stand forgiven. The accuser has been thrown down, and the Comforter has been poured out. The ruler of this world has lost his throne, and the Spirit of truth now rules in your heart.

We see the evidence of this advantage all around us, even though the world looks dark. Every time a sinner is baptized and believes, the devil loses another captive. Every time the absolution is spoken, Satan’s accusations are silenced. Every time God’s people gather around the Lord’s Table, the victory of the cross is proclaimed (1 Co. 11:26). And these are not small things. They are the direct result of the Holy Spirit’s work, and they prove that the judgment of Satan that Jesus announced has already taken place.

And the Holy Spirit does even more. He brings us back into harmony with God and with His creation. Remember how sin shattered that harmony in the beginning. Adam and Eve were created to live in perfect harmony with God, but they hid in fear (Gen. 3:8). Sin brought discord into creation. The ground was cursed. Now, it produces thorns and thistles. Sin brought pain in childbirth, hostility between brothers. All of that is the result of that first act of rebellion. The devil’s lie had introduced discord into every relationship—between God and man; between husband and wife, parents and children; between humanity and the creation we were meant to steward.

But now Christ has reversed the curse. On the cross He bore the judgment we deserved. In His resurrection He declared peace (Jn. 20:19, 21, 26). Now, the Holy Spirit takes that victory and convinces you of it so that you are reconciled to the Father. You are no longer God’s enemies. You are His beloved children. You are brought back into harmony with God.

And that harmony begins to echo outward. The same Spirit who convicts the world concerning sin, righteousness, and judgment also renews your minds so you see people and creation differently. Instead of viewing your neighbor as competition or threat, you see someone for whom Christ shed His blood. The Spirit leads you to live as a citizen of the new creation even while you still live in the old (2 Co. 5:17).

This is the advantage Jesus purchased for you. Because the devil is judged, you are free to live without fear. When anxiety creeps in about the future of the Church or the direction of our culture, the Spirit reminds you that the outcome is already decided. When guilt over past sins weighs heavy, the Spirit points you to the cross to remind you, “It is finished”(Jn. 19:30). And that verdict stands. When loneliness or grief press close, the Spirit comforts you with the presence of Christ who has not left you as orphans (Jn. 14:18).

This advantage also equips you to share this Good News with others. The Holy Spirit uses you as His voice to declare this Gospel to a confused world because you know the ruler of this world has been judged. You can love your enemy because you know Satan is the real enemy, and he has been defeated. You can love and serve your neighbor generously because you know your Father owns all things and delights to provide for His children.

Dear saints, the Holy Spirit is at work now and is doing exactly what Jesus promised. He is still convicting, still comforting, still guiding into all truth. He is still taking what belongs to Jesus—His victory, His forgiveness, His life—and declaring it to you. That is why you can leave this sanctuary not as victims of the devil’s schemes, but as victors in Christ.

Hear the good news again this morning. The devil has been judged. Your sins are forgiven. You are covered in Jesus’ righteousness. You have peace with God (Ro. 5:1). You are restored to harmony with your Creator and His creation. That is the advantage Christ has won. This is your reality because Christ has risen, the Spirit has come, and the battle is over.

Go in that peace. Live in that advantage. Wherever you go, proclaim with confidence what the Holy Spirit has declared to you. The ruler of this world is judged, and in Jesus Christ you are free indeed (Jn. 8:36). Amen.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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

Holy Hope – Sermon on 1 John 3:1-3 for the Fourth Sunday of Easter

1 John 3:1-3

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

At some point every child learns that plants come from seeds. I can’t tell you exactly when I learned it, but I must have been very young. When I was four years old, my friends and I had epic watermelon seed fights at Blue Dog Lake near Waubay, SD. We’d take a big ol’ bite and spit the seeds at each other like tiny black bullets. A grandpa who was there warned me, “Don’t swallow one of those seeds or a watermelon plant will grow out of your stomach!” Of course that isn’t actually possible, but I did know those seeds could grow into watermelons. So that warning terrified me, and I made sure I spit out every single seed.

But just imagine for a moment that you never learned that plants came from seeds. If you saw those tiny black seeds, you would simply think they were annoying little inconveniences that come with enjoying the sweet fruit. You wouldn’t guess that inside that little shell is everything needed for a sprawling vine that will produce two to four melons, each weighing fifteen pounds that are bursting with hundreds of more seeds. The potential is hidden.

This touches on the picture of what it is to be a child of God right now. Now, please know that this is not a perfect analogy. It fits with this text, but don’t use it with other texts like Jesus’ parable of the Sower and the Seed. Fair?

Dear saints, see what the kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God—and we are. The world glances at you and sees nothing special. Sometimes, we look in the mirror and wonder the same thing: “Am I really God’s child?” But don’t let the world fool you. The world did not recognize the eternal Son of God when He came, so it should come as no surprise that it does not recognize us either (1 Jn. 3:1). That’s why the apostle John presses his point. “Beloved, we are God’s children now” (1 Jn. 3:2). The living DNA of Jesus’ divine sonship is alive inside of you. It’s growing. It’s maturing. It’s advancing—even when no one else can see it.

But there is more still to come. “What we will be has not yet appeared. But we know that when Jesus appears we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is” (1 Jn. 3:2). One day Jesus will appear in glory, and suddenly the full-grown plant will be plain for everyone to see. No more hidden potential. Fully ripened. Glorified. Pure. Perfect. Recognizable as the Father’s own.

Even now, before Christ returns, this hope is doing something powerful in you. Listen to v. 3 again, “Everyone who thus hopes in Him purifies himself as He is pure.” The words translated ‘purifies’ and ‘pure’ both have the root word ‘holy,’ so ‘pure’ is a good translation. That means this hope is active and purifies you right now. It purifies you as Jesus Himself is pure. This hope works like sunlight and steady rain on that buried seed. It draws outward and upward from the life of Christ. It cleanses your thoughts, words, and choices. It makes you holy today because you know what you will be on the day of Christ’s return.

When temptation rises and anger spills out, this hope remembers, “I am a child of Jesus, the Pure One. I don’t need to live like the world lives.” When guilt tries to bury you, this hope declares, “My sins are already washed away in the blood of the Lamb.” When the world mocks your faith or you begin to doubt your own identity, this hope lifts your eyes to Christ, “The world didn’t know Him, so it doesn’t know me. But He knows me. And one day everyone will see what He has been growing all along.”

That brings me to each of you confirmands. Today, you stood before us to say, “Yes, this holy hope is mine.” The seed planted in your Baptism is still growing, and this hope will keep purifying you until Jesus appears.

Wes, you were made God’s child on December 9th, 2012, right over there when God used my hands to Baptize you. Whenever fears or doubts creep in, keep hearing the promise that nothing is impossible for your God (Lk. 1:37).

Graeham, you were made God’s child on August 4th, 2013, at your home in Fargo when your grandpa, Pr. Steve Papillon, Baptized you. Keep confessing with your mouth and believing in your heart that Jesus died and rose for you (Ro. 10:9).

Taavi, you were made God’s child on January 19th, 2014, when I placed those waters on your head from that font. Remain strong and courageous. Do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go (Josh. 1:9).

Sutton, you were made God’s child on November 23rd, 2014, when I Baptized you right here. All of your life, cast every anxiety and care on your God who cares for you (1 Pet. 5:7).

Alex, you were made God’s child on March 3rd, 2015, when I had the joy of Baptizing you. Always call on your God who answers and is always by your side (Is. 58:9).

Syneva, you were made God’s child on June 28th, 2015, at Trinity Free Lutheran Church in Grand Forks when Pr. Dan Antal Baptized you. Continue to be adorned by the gentle, quiet spirit God has given you (1 Pet. 3:3-4).

You Confirmands and all you saints, when the world fails to recognize you and when you even fail to recognize yourself, remember the seed. The Father planted it. Christ is tending it. And the Holy Spirit is causing it to grow. This holy hope purifies you today, tomorrow, and every day until Jesus returns. Live in it. Abide in it. Let it shape your thoughts, your words, your choices, and your love for others.

Dear saints, you are God’s children now. And there is even more to come. Hold fast to this holy hope. Let it purify you as Jesus is pure. The day is coming when we will see Him as He is. On that great day, we will be like Him. Amen.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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

Following the Shepherd – Sermon on 1 Peter 2:21-25 for the Third Sunday of Easter

1 Peter 2:21-25

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

This may or may not shock some of you, but I am old enough that I learned how to write in cursive in elementary school. My 2nd Grade teacher, Mrs. Ranum, would walk across the front of the classroom, lick her fingers to count out the right number of worksheets, plop them on the front desk of each row, and say, “Take one and pass the rest back.” Then we would spend time tracing those dotted lines with all the curves and loops. We’d swoop and swish across those lines again and again. All of that tracing was designed to give our young fingers and wrists the muscle memory so our letters would be legible.

Those dotted lines were the standard we all started with. But over time each of us developed our own unique style—some more legible than others. No two people have identical handwriting. 

Here in our text from 1 Peter, the apostle refers to Jesus as our “example,” and the Greek word he uses is hypogrammos. This word appears only here in the entire New Testament. Literally, it means something you write over or trace—like those dotted lines on the worksheets Mrs. Ranum handed out. When you trace something, there are many different ways to start and finish the strokes. Some are smoother than others. But the goal is always the same: your writing should resemble the the original.

Notice that Jesus is our hypogrammos in a very particular way. Peter is not calling us to trace Jesus in every way. You don’t trace Him so that you get left in the temple at age twelve, or walk on water, or multiply loaves for thousands of people, or heal the sick, or raise the dead. And it’s good that Peter isn’t calling you to trace Jesus in those ways, because you can’t do any of those things. Sure, God could do some of them through you, but none of those things are on Peter’s radar here.

Instead, the focus is to trace Jesus in the way He endured suffering—like a sheep before its shearers is silent (Is. 53:7). The verse just before our text says that when you do good and suffer for it and endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God (1 Pet. 2:20).

That is the kind of suffering to which you have been called. Because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example—a hypogrammos, a pattern to trace—so that you might follow in His steps. Jesus committed no sin, and absolutely no deceit in was found in His mouth. He spoke pure, unfiltered truth. And He suffered for it. When He was reviled, He did not revile in return. When He suffered, He didn’t threaten. He simply trusted that God would judge justly. In and through all of that, Jesus Himself bore your sins in His body on the tree, that you might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds, you are healed (1 Pet. 2:21-24).

Dear saints, Peter wrote these words to Christians who felt like exiles and aliens in their own world and like scattered sheep far from home. Many of them were servants living under masters who could be harsh and unfair. For them, suffering was not theoretical. It was a daily reality. And Peter doesn’t coat it. He says plainly, “This is what you have been called to do.” Because following Jesus, your Shepherd, means walking in His steps, and those steps often lead through pain and suffering because we still live in a broken world.

But look at the pattern your Shepherd left—the hypogrammos that we are to trace. First, He was completely innocent. “He committed no sin, and no deceit was found in His mouth.” That’s an echo of the Suffering Servant song in Is. 53. Jesus didn’t deserve a single lash, a single insult, a single nail. Yet He took it all like a lamb led to the slaughter (Is. 53:7) without fighting back.

When they hurled insults at Him during His trial and on the cross, He didn’t fire back with clever comebacks or righteous anger. The soldiers mocked Him. The crowd shouted, “Crucify!” Even the thieves crucified beside Him joined in the abuse (Mt. 27:44). Yet, through all of that, Jesus remained silent. He didn’t threaten. Instead, He entrusted Himself to the One who judges justly. He prayed, “Father, forgive them” (Lk. 23:34). He handed all of His suffering over to His heavenly Father.

You and I can’t do exactly as Jesus did. We can’t do this without sin. We can’t shed holy, perfect blood to pay the price for the sins of the world. We can’t do that. But we can trace His pattern and follow His steps. We don’t have to demand our rights. Instead, we can quietly entrust ourselves to the God who sees every injustice.

Now, before we go any further, let’s be clear about what this is not. This is not a call to ignore evil. It does not mean you must stay in situations where you or your children are in danger. Peter is not giving a blank check for evil to run rampant. Instead, he is speaking to believers who are already doing good and suffering for it anyway. When the world hates you simply because you belong to Christ; when standing for truth costs you friends, or a promotion, or respect in the community—keep tracing your Shepherd’s steps. Do not repay evil with evil. Do not let bitterness take root. Instead, entrust yourself to the Judge who sees it all.

The reason we can do this is that Jesus didn’t just leave us an example. He has also given us the power to follow Him. The power of His own resurrected life. Look again at v. 24, “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed.”

Jesus is more than a model on the page. He is your Substitute. Dear saints, you have the comfort of knowing what Christ accomplished on the cross is for you and your eternal destiny. He took your wandering. He took your straying like sheep. He took your selfish instincts to either strike back or run away—He carried all of it in His own body to the cross. The stripes that should have fallen on us fell on Him. The death we deserved, He swallowed whole. And by those wounds you are healed. You are forgiven. You are made new.

That healing isn’t just a feeling in your heart. It’s a real dying and rising that happens every day. You die to sin and to the urge to lash out. You die to the desire to demand your own way and to nurse grudges. Now, you live to righteousness. You live in the freedom of those who know their Shepherd has already won the victory. So you don’t need to win or prove anything. It is done. Finished.

Whatever your suffering is—whether it’s physical, emotional, or the ache of loneliness—know that it is known by your God and Savior. Know that He isn’t ignoring you or your pain. Instead, He is using that pain to shape you to look more and more like your Shepherd.

You don’t trace those dotted lines alone. Through faith you have returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. Jesus isn’t standing at a distance shouting instructions. He is your living Shepherd who goes before you. He knows every valley because He walked through the darkest one first. He gathers you when you stray. He binds up your wounds with the same hands that still bear the scars. He leads you beside still waters even when the world feels like a raging storm.

Dear saints, the call to follow the Shepherd in suffering is not a burden meant to crush you. It is an invitation into the life Jesus has already lived for you and now lives in you by His Spirit. When you fail—and we all do—He does not cast you out. He brings you back, again and again, because His sheep hear His voice and follow Him (Jn. 10:27-28).

Dear saints, whatever suffering or injustice or hardship you face, look to your hypogrammos. Trace the steps of the One who suffered for you. Entrust yourself to the Father who judges justly. Die to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed. You belong to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls. And He will not—never, not ever—lose one of His sheep. Amen.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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

Unexpected Peace – Sermon on John 20:19-31 for the Second Sunday of Easter

John 20:19-31

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

To get where we’re going, I want to pick up right where last week’s sermon left off with a little more ‘storytelling’ (true ‘storytelling’) about the day of Christ’s resurrection. Last week, we walked through the events of that first Easter morning, ending with Jesus meeting Mary Magdalene in the garden. Today’s Gospel text takes us the events of that same evening. But what happened in between?

Sometime after Jesus left the garden, He caught up with two disciples, who aren’t numbered with the Twelve, as they walked to Emmaus (Lk. 24:13-35). One was named Cleopas, but Scripture leaves the other unnamed. Emmaus was a small village, probably just a cluster of houses that were about an hour’s walk west of Jerusalem.[1] Like Mary in the garden, these two disciples didn’t recognize Jesus at first. Mark tells us He appeared to them in “another form” (Mk. 16:12). In other words, Jesus intentionally made Himself unrecognizable—at least at first.

Only when they reached Emmaus and sat down for a meal did it happen. Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened. They recognized Him, and He immediately vanished from their sight (Lk. 24:30-31). They rushed back to Jerusalem to tell the Eleven and everyone gathered with them (Lk. 24:33). It wasn’t just the Eleven. There were also the women who had been at the tomb that morning were there too, along with others. 

I also have to mention that sometime in the middle of all this, Jesus had appeared to Peter. We’re not sure when because Scripture doesn’t give any details of that meeting, but it clearly states in two separate places that it happened (Lk. 24:34; 1 Co. 15:5). As the two disciples from Emmaus are telling the others about how they had walked with Jesus, eaten with Him, and finally recognized Him “in the breaking of the bread,” suddenly Christ appears right in their midst (compare Lk. 24:36; Jn. 20:19). Jesus just popped into the room.

It shouldn’t have been possible. They had locked the doors—barricaded them, really. In those days, they didn’t have doorknobs or deadbolts like we do. Instead, they would lay a heavy beam across the door to keep it shut, but that didn’t stop the risen Jesus. He didn’t knock. He didn’t ask to be let in. He simply appeared. Unexpected, unannounced, and fullyrecognizable. He’s nothiding Himself from them. They know it’s Him.

Imagine the emotional rollercoaster they had ridden over the past 72 hours. The disciples had all vowed to follow Him even to death (Mt. 26:35; Mk. 14:31). Yet when Jesus was arrested, they all fled (Mt. 26:56; Mk. 14:50). They had abandoned Him. He had been brutally beaten, crucified, and buried. In their minds, all their hopes for salvation were buried with Jesus (Lk. 24:21). For them, it seemed that heaven was forever closed. But that morning, they heard from the women that He was alive. Raised. Resurrected. On the one hand, it seemed too good to be true (Lk. 24:41). On the other hand, it was terrifying because they knew how badly they had failed Him.

There He stood in their midst. But they didn’t know why He had come. They didn’t know what He was going to say or do to them.

Remember Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. After they ate from the tree, they sewed fig leaves together to cover their nakedness and shame. Then they heard the sound of God walking in the Garden that evening, and they hid (Gen. 3:7-8). They hid because when you have utterly failed someone, the last place you want to be is with that person. But God was seeking them out. He still wanted to be with them. He called out, “Where are you?” (Gen. 3:9) and gave them chance after chance to repent (Gen. 3:9-13). Even though Adam and Eve didn’t repent and passed the blame around—Eve to the serpent, Adam to his wife and even to God Himself. They didn’t know that God had come to give them the promise that He would crush the serpent’s head through the Seed of the Woman (Gen. 3:15).

Here, Jesus had come to announce that crushing was done. He came to proclaim that sin, death, and Satan were defeated by His death and resurrection. So, He doesn’t wait for them to come to Him. Again, He seeks them out and steps right into the middle of their fear and failure. Christ opens His mouth, and His first words aren’t, “What happened?” or “Why did you fail so badly?” or “How could you?” Even before they can get out an, “I’m sorry,” Jesus unexpectedly says to them, “Peace be with you” (Jn. 20:19).

This isn’t just a normal greeting. This is Jesus’ full, total, complete absolution. He had come to bring peace. His words deliver the wholeness and reconciliation that He had purchased with His own Blood on the cross. The peace that the angels had announced at His birth is now fulfilled in His resurrection.

To drive the point home, Jesus shows them His hands and side (Jn. 20:20). The nail prints. The spear wound. They are still there. But they are not marks of defeat. They are badges of His victory. By those wounds you are healed (Is. 53:5). Now, seeing those wounds doesn’t cause them regret or sadness. Instead, they are changed. Terror turns to gladness. Fear gives way to joy.

Then Jesus says it again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.” He breathes on them and says, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you withhold forgiveness from any, it is withheld.” Just as God had breathed life into Adam at the beginning of creation (Gen. 2:7), Jesus, the Son of God and new Adam, breathes the Holy Spirit into His people that first day of the new creation (2 Co. 5:17). And He gives them—and through them His whole church—the authority to deliver forgiveness in His name.

Dear saints, this unexpected peace is for you too. Jesus still comes unexpectedly into our locked-up lives and spaces we barricade because of fear, guilt, and regret. He comes through every barrier you can put up because He loves you. He brings you His absolution because the price has been paid. His peace is for you. Your sin Is forgiven. The tomb is empty. Death is defeated.

Because He has given you this peace, Jesus also sends you with it. As He was sent to seek and save the lost (Lk. 19:10), so He sends you. In your homes, schools, neighborhoods, you are ambassadors of Christ’s peace (2 Co. 5:18-20). When your husband or wife, children or parents, coworker or classmate fails you, you get to deliver and speak Christ’s forgiveness.

Oakley, that brings me to you. Today you are Baptized. Jesus has placed His name upon you (Mt. 28:19) and joined you to His death and resurrection (Ro. 6:3-5). Christ has breathed His life into you and given you the Holy Spirit (Act. 2:38-39). Even when you sin and fail, Christ repeatedly comes to you bringing you the peace of His absolution.

Oakley and all you saints, keep close to Him. Hear His Word so you don’t run from Him but to Him in faith. Hear from Him again and again, “Peace be with you. I have died for you. I am risen for you. In Me, you have life both now and forever.”

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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

[1]Luke 24:13 (ESV) mentions that the distance from Jerusalem to Emmaus is “about seven miles.” There are four possible sites for Emmaus. The one that seems most likely is current day Mozah which is 3.5 miles from Jerusalem. It is possible that Luke calculated the round-trip distance.

Replay – Sermon for the Resurrection of Our Lord

Today’s sermon is a chronology of the morning of our Lord’s resurrection from Matthew 28:1-15; Mark 16:1-8; Luke 24:1-12; and John 20:1-18.

A .pdf showing the Scriptural references for the chronological events of our Lord’s resurrection can be found here.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Because Jesus is risen, your sin and your guilt are forgiven. They are removed from you as far as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12). Jesus has died for you. He is risen. Now, nothing can keep you in the grave. Nothing can legitimately cause you fear. The victory is won. God be praised.

This Easter sermon is going to be a little different than what I normally do on Easter. As a preacher, it’s easy for me to jump to the meaning of Christ’s Resurrection to the neglect of the fact of the Resurrection. After He died a real death on Good Friday, Jesus really rose and came out of His tomb. This happened. As surely as you walked through those front doors, picked up a bulletin, and are now in this sanctuary, Jesus walked out of the tomb on this very day, 1,993 years ago.

I want to impress this on you because you can hear all sorts of false preachers who will say stupid things like, “Jesus may or may not have risen. We’re not really sure. But Easter isn’t about the event; it’s about the message.” That’s terrible. You can’t say that and still claim to be a Christian. Who cares about the message if the event didn’t happen? Today, we’re going to simply let Easter be what it is: Jesus is risen.

To do that, imagine that we could sit in that garden, looking toward Jesus’ tomb, and watch everything that happens that morning. While you settle into your lawn chair, let me say this quickly: The year is 33 AD. It is April 5th. Yes, April 5th of 33 AD, the same date as today. I know the date we celebrate Easter moves around on our calendar. That’s simply because we use a slightly different calendar than the Jewish people used back then.

Anyway. We’re there in the garden, and it’s well before sunrise. Ready?

As you look toward the tomb, you will see that there are soldiers. They’re awake, probably mumbling to each other because they’ve been assigned to guard a dead body. They probably think it’s a demotion or something. They’ve been assigned to keep people from stealing the body (Mt. 27:62-66). You can also see the stone rolled across the entrance and it’s sealed tight.

Now, you can’t see this part, but behind that stone Jesus’ human soul is reunited to His human body. And His body is perfected. Jesus opens His eyes. He breathes again. He stands up and walks out of the tomb through the stone. The stone has not been rolled away—not yet. Jesus passes right through it and walks away. You don’t follow Him. You couldn’t—even if you tried. In 1 Peter 3:18-19, Peter tells us that Jesus, in His risen body, descends into hell to proclaim His victory over death.

But you’re still at the tomb. Soon after Jesus leaves the tomb, angels come down from heaven. One of those angels is a little rambunctious. He causes an earthquake, rolls the stone away, and sits on it (Mt. 28:2). He doesn’t sit on it because he’s tired. He’s mocking the stone. He’s laughing at it because it already failed to hold Jesus. This angel is bright like lightning, and his clothes are white as snow (Mt. 28:3).

The soldiers feel the earthquake, see this angel, and they are terrified. These big, strong, armed soldiers begin to shake in fear and fall down like dead men (Mt. 28:4). At some point—and I think it makes here before the women show up—the soldiers wake up again. They check the tomb, and it’s empty. This terrifies them even more. They’ve failed in their mission. They run off to tell the chief priests what happened (Mt. 28:11)

Now, the sun is starting to rise. You can hear footsteps and voices. The women are coming. There are at least five of them: Mary Magdalene, another Mary (the mother of James and Joseph [Mt. 27:56], the wife of Clopas [Jn. 19:25]), Salome, Joanna, and Luke says there are ‘others’ (Mt. 28:1; Mk. 16:1; Lk. 24:10; Jn. 20:1). They’ve prepared their spices (Mk. 16:1; Lk. 24:1) but forgot an important detail. Only as they get close do they realize they have no one to roll away the stone (Mk. 16:3).

But when they get close enough, they see that the stone is already rolled away (Mk. 16:4; Lk. 24:2). That’s not what they expected. At this point Mary Magdalene turns and sprints away to tell Peter and John (Jn. 20:2). She’s going to tell them that someone has taken Jesus’ body. That’s what she assumes because she hasn’t seen the angels or heard them proclaim that Jesus is risen.

The rest of the women walk into the tomb (Mk. 16:5; Lk. 24:3). It must have been a big tomb for all of them to fit inside. They enter and see two angels (Lk. 24:4). God gave one of them the task of announcing the Resurrection. (I wonder what race he won to get this privilege.) I like to imagine this angel has been rehearsing his speech for a while. He begins with a gentle joke (Lk. 24:5): “Why do you seek the Living One among the dead ones?” It’s almost like they are at the grocery store and he’s saying they’re in the wrong aisle. “You’re looking for avocados and salsa, but you’re in the aisle with cleaning chemicals.” “Why are you in a cemetery looking for the Living One? Silly ladies! That doesn’t make any sense.” Then, he goes on as we heard from Mark’s Gospel, “Don’t be alarmed. You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who has been crucified. He has risen. He is not here. See the place where they laid Him. Go. Tell His disciples and Peter that He is going before you to Galilee. There you will see Him, just as He told you” (Mk. 16:6-7; Mt. 28:5-7; Lk. 24:5-7).

Now those women run back to tell the disciples. As they’re going—so we don’t see this from our lawn chairs—Jesus appears to them and tells them the same good news the angel had (Mt. 28:8-10). Now, for a little while, it’s just us and the angels in the garden.

It’s maybe another half hour or longer—depending on how fast Peter and John can run. John comes running into the garden first because he’s a little younger than Peter. Remember, Mary Magdalene had run back to tell them. John wins the footrace and makes sure to record his victory in his Gospel (Jn. 20:3-4). John stops at the entrance and looks in. But Peter thinks the entrance of the tomb is the finish line and barges right in (Jn. 20:5-6). Peter doesn’t see any angels. He and John only see the burial cloth folded up neatly—as though Jesus simply made His bed (Jn. 20:7). It seems like Peter reaches the same conclusion that Mary Magdalene had: someone has stolen the body (Lk. 24:12). But John has a different look on his face. He begins to believe—even though he didn’t hear any angel announce it (Jn. 20:8). He simply remembers what Jesus had said and is the first to believe. Peter and John catch their breath and head back to where they were staying (Jn. 20:9). 

Now comes final scene of the morning. Mary Magdalene arrives back at the tomb. She’s all alone (Jn. 20:11-12). This is her second trip to the tomb. She’s probably walked or run about five miles this morning. She stands at the entrance and sees the two angels, but she is not afraid. The angels ask her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She says, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him” (Jn. 20:13).

Then, she turns around and sees Jesus standing there, but she doesn’t recognize Him. She thinks He’s the gardener (Jn. 20:14-15). Of course she thinks He’s the gardener! She sees the resurrected Jesus, the New Adam (1 Co. 15:45-49; Ro. 5:14) in His perfected Body. Anyone who looked at Him would think He is a gardener. Like the angels, Jesus asks, “Woman, why are you weeping?” Then He adds, “Whom are you seeking?” (Jn. 20:15). She thinks that this gardener has taken Him, so she pleads, “Sir, if you have carried Him away tell me where you have laid Him” (Jn. 20:15).

Then Jesus simply says, “Mary” (Jn. 20:16). Only when she hears Jesus speak her name does she recognize Him. She falls at His feet. But Jesus says, “Don’t cling to Me yet. I have not yet ascended to the Father. Go and tell My brothers (i.e. the disciples) that I’m going to My Father and your Father, to My God and your God” (Jn. 20:17). It’s beautiful. The very men who had abandoned Him—Jesus now calls them His brothers. Mary turns from the tomb, leaves the garden, and runs back again to tell them that she has seen the risen Lord (Jn. 20:18).

Then Jesus Himself leaves the tomb. He never comes back. That’s it. That’s everything that happens in the garden that morning. You can pack up your lawn chair. Jesus isn’t coming back to the grave—never, ever, ever. Well… not until He returns to your grave, to your burial spot. In His resurrected and glorified body, Jesus will stand at your grave and call you out. And you won’t have to imagine it. You’ll see it with your own eyes (Job 19:27). Your Redeemer lives. And through faith in Him, so will you—for all eternity.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! 
He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

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

The God of Justice – Sermon on Matthew 26:1-27:66 for Palm Sunday

Matthew 26:1-27:66

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Good job. I know that is a hard reading, but it’s worth the effort. The accounts of our Lord’s Passion in the four Gospels are some of the most precious words ever written. I’d encourage you this week to read the other three accounts. Read Mark 14-15 one day, Luke 22-23 another day, and John 18-19 another. Reading those will prepare your heart and lips to cry out next Sunday, “He is risen indeed!”

Most of the time, we see the crucifixion of our Lord as an act of terrible injustice. Jesus – the only sinless person – is condemned to die a gruesome death. Even Pilate wrestles with the injustice as the crowds keep crying out for Jesus to be crucified (Mt. 27:15-23). He asks, “Why? What evil has he done?” But Pilate was too weak and timid to do the just thing and release Jesus, so he delivers our Lord to be crucified. There’s no question that, from a human standpoint, Jesus’ condemnation is utterly unjust.

But, in the cosmic view of things, the crucifixion, God is accomplishing the greatest act of justice ever. But this act of justice is going on ‘behind the scenes,’ so to speak. So, let me make the case for that, and you can tell me what you think after the service. We have to take a few steps back to see it clearly.

Six weeks ago, on the first Sunday of Lent, we considered Genesis 3 and the Fall. There, in the Garden of Eden, Satan tempts Adam and Eve to sin and rebel against God like he had. Why does he do that? Well, the devil knows he can’t defeat God and that he can’t be redeemed. So, the devil wants to hurt God, and the only way he can figure out how to hurt God is to come after us and try to sever us from God. So, he tempted our first parents to fall into sin, which they do. But God wasn’t about to let the devil have us. God promises to judge Satan by sending the Seed of the woman to crush his head (Gen. 3:15). In other words, God is saying, “I’m not going to let you have them. I will come and crush you.”

Now, fast-forward to Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. In the first temptation, the devil says, “If you are the Son of God, command these stones to become bread” (Mt. 4:3; Lk. 4:3). The devil says, In a sense, the devil was saying, “You’re God. Why should you go hungry when everyone else in the world is eating? Quit trying to save these people. Let me have them.” Of course, Jesus resists all of the devil’s temptations there in the wilderness. But the Gospel of Luke has an interesting line after those temptations are finished. He says, “And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from [Jesus] until an opportune time” (Lk. 4:13). In other words, the devil had more temptations for Jesus.

One of those ‘opportune times’ came after Jesus told the disciples that He would suffer, be killed, and rise again. Peter rebukes Jesus saying, “Far be it from You, Lord! This shall never happen to You.” And Jesus responds to Peter, “Get behind Me, Satan!” (Mt. 16:21-23). The devil was using Peter’s love of Jesus to try to get Him to abandon His mission of going to the cross. But another ‘opportune time’ is even more explicit in our text today as Jesus is on the cross.

Look again at Matthew 27:39-44. The crowds deride Jesus saying, “You who would destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, save yourself! If you are the Son of God, come down from the cross.” And, “He saved others, he cannot save himself. Let him come down now from the cross, and we will believe in him. He trusts in God; let God deliver him, if He desires him.”

Satan was using those voices, that mocking and deriding. Picture it. There is Jesus. Naked. Beaten. Bloodied. A crown of thorns on His head. His back whipped to shreds. Nails through His hands and feet. He hangs there dying for their sins and suffering the wrath of God that they deserve. And the very people He’s doing all this for are saying these things to Him.

It’s easy to picture the devil whispering in Jesus’ ear, “Do you hear what they’re saying to you? Why are you doing this for them? You don’t have to do this! You said they would die because of their sin. I thought you are a God of justice? Let me have them. That would be fair. They don’t deserve to have you die for them. It would be just for you to abandon them.”

But Jesus resists the temptation. He wants to redeem you. It would not be just for Him to save Himself. Justice is Jesus getting back what belongs to Him. That’s you. The devil is a thief (Jn. 10:10) and a liar (Jn. 8:44), and Jesus will simply not let Satan have you.

In reality, justice is God winning you back from the clutches of sin, death, and the devil. Justice is God having you as His Own. Justice is you living under Him in His kingdom as He intended. That’s justice. And your God is a God of justice. A God of justice. A God of forgiveness. A God of grace and mercy.

This is why we regularly use 1 John 1:9 before our confession of sins. “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

Dear saints, your God is merciful and just (Ex. 34:6-7). Your Savior did not come down from the cross because He will not let the devil have you. In His mercy, He gives Himself for you. Christ perfectly obeyed God’s Law for you. Jesus suffers the punishment you deserve. As surely as His mercy is for you and your benefit, His justice is also for you and for your benefit. Psalm 89:14 shows us who God is, “Righteousness and justice are the foundation of Your throne; steadfast love and faithfulness go before You.” That truth is most clearly seen in the cross of Christ.

Dear saints, justice and mercy meet you this Holy Week. Jesus stays on the cross that you may be His Own. He refused to save Himself because He is determined to save you. Let His cross be your comfort and His empty tomb your sure hope, now and forever. Welcome to Holy Week. Amen.

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

Call to Keep – Sermon on John 8:42-59 for the Fifth Sunday of Lent

John 8:42-59

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

We’re going to focus on what Jesus says in Jn. 8:51, “Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps My Word, he will never see death.”But before we do that, I’m sure you noticed as the text was read – Jesus is in the middle of an ugly, heated debate with this group John simply calls “the Jews” (Jn. 8:48). That simply means that Jesus was talking with a group of people that likely included scribes and Pharisees (Jn. 8:3), but it also included regular, everyday people who followed the teaching of the scribes and Pharisees.

We jumped into the middle of it, but this confrontation has been building for several verses. Back in Jn. 8:23-24, Jesus said, “You are from below; I am from above. You are of this world; I am not of this world. You will die in your sins unless you believe in Me.” In Jn. 8:40, Jesus exposes their plot to kill Him (Jn. 5:18, 7:1), “You seek to kill Me, a Man who has told you the truth that I heard from God.”Jesus knows their secret plans even six months before they kill Him (Jn. 11:53; Mt. 26:3-5; Mk. 14:1-2). In this reading, you heard Jesus tell them, “You are of your father the devil who has always been a murderer” (Jn. 8:44), and, “You are not of God” (Jn. 8:47).

This is not what they teach in the evangelism class at seminary. Jesus isn’t being nice or winsome or polite. He isn’t trying to maintain the relationship just in case they change their minds someday. He isn’t being ‘nice’ for the sake of future possibilities. Maybe the books on evangelism need to be rewritten. Jesus’ main concern here is clarity. He isn’t being mean. Not at all! We’ll see that plainly in just a minute. He loves these people dearly. He just wants to be clear – crystal clear. He wants to tell the truth clearly. And the truth – hard as it is – is that these people are in a dire situation. Their eternal destiny is at risk. It would be unloving to not say these things to them.

Imagine you’re cooking supper on the stove, and you briefly step away to reach into the cupboard for the next ingredient. You see your four-year-old about to touch the burner. You wouldn’t quietly say, “Oh, my sweet, darling boy. Your hand should not go there.” No! You’d yell, “STOP!” You might not even get a “don’t touch that” out of your mouth. It might startle the kid so much that he starts crying, but those tears will dry long before any burn would ever heal, long before the blisters would go away.

Dear saints, I hope this encourages you. One thing you should take away from this text is that some people will simply be angry when you tell them the truth. They got angry at Jesus when He told them the truth, and they’ll get angry when you tell them the truth. In this whole conversation, Jesus isn’t being mean. He’s simply and clearly speaking the truth. He’s warning these very people of the dire danger they are in. And He’s doing it out of love for them.

How do they respond? “Are we not right in saying that you are a Samaritan and have a demon?” (Jn. 8:48). They start name-calling Jesus. This isn’t just a slur against Samaritans. It’s probably meant as an insult against Jesus’ mother, Mary. People knew that Mary was pregnant before she and Joseph got married (Mt. 1:19). Here, these people are implying that Mary slept around with Samaritans. They’re saying the sort of thing you’d hear in a locker room. To keep the sermon PG, they’re saying that she was ‘loose’ and that Jesus was an illegitimate child, a title that begins with a ‘b.’ On top of that, they accuse Jesus of having a demon and operating as an agent of the devil himself, trying to drag people into hell.

Look how Jesus responds to that, “Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps My Word, he will never see death” (Jn. 8:51). Do you hear that? He’s holding out a promise for them. After all the filth they just hurled at Him and His mother, Jesus shows them how much He loves them. Just the fact that He doesn’t throw up His hands and walk away is remarkably gracious by itself. But that He gives them this promise – the promise that they will never see death if they keep His word. Do you see how much Jesus loves them, even though He’s said some clear and difficult things to them? Despite their insults, Jesus is giving this promise to them. “If anyone keeps My Word.” He doesn’t say, “The people who keep My Word.” No! Anyone. The people He’s speaking to are included in ‘anyone,’ and so are you.

So, what does Jesus mean when He tells you today, “If you,” you listening to Jesus right now, “If you keep My Word, you will never see death”?

First, just to be clear, Jesus’ Word – the thing Jesus tells you to ‘keep’ (‘keep’ is a good translation; some translations will use ‘obey’ but that’s too narrow) – you are to ‘keep’ all of the Bible. Jesus doesn’t just refer to the red letters. Jesus says that all the Scriptures testify about Him (Jn. 5:39). Christ is the Word who became flesh (Jn. 1:14), the One who came not to abolish the Law and the Prophets, but to fulfill them (Mt. 5:17). So, if you keep the Lord’s Commandments, you will never see death.

That might get you squirming a bit. Rightly so. That’s what God’s Law is designed to do. But, Christian, you do keep God’s Commands. You do. Now, that doesn’t mean you are perfect or that you never sin. You do not always perfectly obey God’s Commands, but you do keep them. You order your life around them and conduct yourself according to them. When you sin, when you do what God forbids and fail to do what God demands, you keep Jesus’ Word by running back to Him. You confess your sin and trust His promise of forgiveness, mercy, and compassion.

And that faith, that trust, is the greater ‘keeping’ of Jesus’ Word (Jn. 8:24). Jesus’ Word, the Bible, is both Law and Gospel. You keep Jesus’ Word by striving, working, and obeying. You keep Jesus’ Word by repenting and confessing. And you keep Jesus’ Word by trusting and believing. They all go together. And that isn’t a high bar that you have to clear. This call to keep Jesus’ Word is simply a call to faith. And by the working of the Holy Spirit, He gives you that faith that keeps His Word (Eph. 2:8-9).

Here’s the promise Jesus gives to you who keep/believe His Word: You will neversee death. Never. In Jn. 11:26, Jesus puts it this way, “Everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” And He means it. That sounds strange, doesn’t it? How many people that we know and love, people who once sat in this sanctuary and were part of our lives, how many of them have we mourned? Links; Malms; Karin, Carol, John, Verdie, Harlen; Jim and, recently, Jeremy; Jim, Phylis, Clara, Ros; and your own dear family members. How can Jesus say they never saw death?

While it’s true that hearts stop beating, brains and bodies stop functioning. And the bodies of those saints have now been laid to rest. But Jesus simply says they have fallen asleep (Jn. 11:11-14; Mt. 9:24). They didn’t die. They live now with Jesus and wait for their souls that God created to be rejoined with their bodies that God also created.

When you keep Jesus’ Word, your merciful God gives you eternal life. Eternal life, by definition doesn’t stop. You always have it – even if your body dies. In Romans 8:38-39, Scripture promises that death will not separate you from Jesus.

If Jesus returned today, our bodies would be immediately perfected (1 Co. 15:51). But let’s say that you go and find your loved ones who did die in the faith and ask them, “What was it like to die?” – you know what their answer will be? “I don’t know. I never died. Jesus was there with me the entire time.”

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me” (Ps. 23:4). Jesus is there. Right beside you. All the way through. This is Christ’s promise to you, believer. Keep Jesus’ Word and truly, truly you will never see death. Amen.

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

Devoted & Multiplied – Sermon on Acts 2:41-47 for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

Acts 2:41-47

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

It’s not uncommon to hear people – both Christians and unbelievers – say that the current Church is nothing like what depicted here on the day of Pentecost and the first days following Pentecost. You can hear heathen unbelievers say that Christians are just a bunch of selfish capitalist hypocrites while the Church here in Acts 2 was communist. I said it a few weeks ago, but I’ll say it again. Don’t let people who hate God and His Word interpret Scripture for you. Jesus didn’t institute a Communist church. Here, the believers are lovingly and willingly selling their possessions and giving them away. These brothers and sisters in Christ were saying, “What’s mine is yours.” Communism is different. Communism says, “What’s yours is mine. And we’ll make sure the state agrees, takes it from you, and gives it to someone else.” The early New Testament Church wasn’t Communist, but it was commonist [sic.]. There’s a big difference. Communism is when the state breaks the seventh Commandment, “Thou shalt not steal.”

But even Christians will lament and say that today’s Church isn’t like the believers here in Act. 2. They’ll say, “That was the real Church. It was vibrant, united, multiplying. And look at it now. It’s antiquated, old, dying.” They think we’ve lost something and that we need to get back to what we see in the early days after Pentecost.

That simply isn’t true. The pattern of life that those first Christians had is exactly what we have here – maybe not identically, but substantively. That isn’t to say that we are flawless – far from it. Do we have issues? Yup. That’s why we confess our sins every week. We do it for good reason. We are in constant need of God’s absolution. But the same living Lord who Baptized those 3,000 souls in May of 33 AD in Jerusalem is the same Savior who gathers us here in East Grand Forks in 2026. Christ’s work in them and among us is the same, and the pattern of life they had is the pattern we have.

After Peter’s Pentecost sermon pierced their hearts (Act. 2:37), those 3,000 repented, were Baptized for the forgiveness of their sins, and received the Holy Spirit. Then, what did they do? They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.

That word translated ‘devoted’ is strong. It means they steadfastly persisted in these things. They held on to those things like a man clinging to a lifeline in a storm in the middle of the ocean. It wasn’t optional. It was essential. And notice what these pillars were. In our translation, it looks like there are four, but it might be only three. I’ll explain when we get there.

First, they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching. The apostles were the men Jesus had chosen, taught, and sent to be His witnesses (Act. 1:8). They proclaimed what they had seen and heard – the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of their Lord and Savior and your Lord and Savior. Through their teaching, the early Christians heard the voice of Christ Himself (Jn. 13:20, 1 Th. 2:13). Jesus sent them to proclaim and teach how Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms – all the Old Testament – pointed to Him (Lk. 24:44-48). Their teaching wasn’t just bland, mundane information. It was life-giving truth that nourished their souls day by day.

Second, the believers devoted themselves to “the fellowship.” The Greek word there is koinonia. It’s two Greek words smooshed together that mean ‘common’ and ‘union.’ The believers weren’t just acquaintances. They were family and a body (1 Co. 12:12ff) bound together by their unity with Jesus.

Next is “breaking of bread.” There’s no question that ‘breaking of bread’ here refers to Communion, the Lord’s Supper, where Jesus gives His true Body and Blood for the forgiveness of sins (Mt. 26:26-29; 1 Co. 11:23-25). Grammatically, it could be that Luke intended that the “breaking of bread” is directly tied to the “fellowship” he just mentioned. I won’t get too technical about the grammar. (You’re welcome.) Luke might be mentioning two pairs of things the people were devoting themselves to – the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, as well as Communion and the prayers. But it’s also possible Luke is listing three things – 1) the apostles’ teaching, 2) the fellowship that comes from the breaking of bread in the Lord’s Supper (1 Co. 10:16), and 3) the prayers. When we meet Luke at Jesus’ feet, we can ask if he intended this to be three or four things.

Finally, the first Christians devoted themselves to the prayers. ‘The prayers’ here refers to the liturgical prayers they had been using before they believed in Christ. These prayers included the Psalms, the Lord’s Prayer, and the parts of the liturgies that had echoed in synagogues and temple for hundreds of years. Now, all of those prayers are now rightly centered on Jesus as the fulfillment of those Old Testament liturgies that had been established by God. In other words, the New Testament Church was devoting itself to corporate, collective prayers.

Dear saints, this is also a description of us. Every Sunday we gather around the apostles’ teaching as we hear it in the Gospel and Epistle readings. God’s Word is read, proclaimed, and applied to our lives by the power of the Holy Spirit. We share in the same fellowship because we are also Baptized into Christ and break bread in the holy Sacrament, receiving the medicine of immortality. And we pray together as our Lord taught us and as the Psalms direct us. Here in this building, week by week, we devote ourselves to the exact same things. So, the Church here in Acts 2 isn’t a distant memory of some bygone era of Christianity. It’s the living reality we are participating in right now – today and every week.

As we are devoted to those things, the Holy Spirit produces the fruit of the Spirit. Love and concern for our neighbor. Joy and peace that enable us to open our hands to share. Patience that calms us when we have to wait for God to provide. Kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control that are visible to others and appealing to them.

Think of how amazing this newly formed congregation is. Our Gospel reading today (Jn. 6:1-15) was Jesus feeding the 5,000 men plus women and children. Before the meal was distributed, Jesus gave this pop quiz to Philip and Andrew, “Where are we to buy bread so that these people may eat?”Both Philip and Andrew throw up their hands. Philip looks at their lack of money, and Andrew looks at the tiny bit of food they do have. Both say, “It isn’t enough.” So, Jesus takes the five loaves and two fish and multiplies them.

Dear saints, it’s nothing for Jesus to do that. It isn’t a problem for Him. And here in Acts 2, this fellowship is formed a little more than a year after the feeding of the 5,000. Apparently, Philip and Andrew get a retake on Jesus’ test. And they teach the crowd about how generously God gives. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if they taught the people how Jesus multiplied the bread and fish, which results in such a generous congregation. The same apostles who once despaired of not having enough become instruments through which the Holy Spirit creates this fellowship of radical generosity. “All who believed were together and had all things in common. And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need” (Act. 2:44-45).

What changed the apostles and their teaching? It wasn’t a new philosophy or political program. It was Christ’s resurrection. It was the fact that the Holy Spirit now dwelled in them (1 Co. 6:19-20). The One who multiplied loaves now multiplied faith, hope, and love in their hearts. Scarcity gave way to abundance – not because they had more stuff, but because they had a firmer devotion to Christ.

Dear saints, the same Gospel is at work among us. In a world gripped by fear of scarcity – too little money, too little time, too little security – Jesus invites us to trust His provision. He doesn’t always multiply literal bread and fish before our eyes, though He could. Instead, He multiplies grace through His appointed means. Through the apostles’ teaching preached and heard, He feeds our faith. Through fellowship, He binds us together so that no one suffers alone. Through the breaking of bread in Holy Communion, He gives us His very Self, Body and Blood, for the forgiveness of sin and strengthening of our faith. Through the prayers, He draws us into communion and fellowship with Himself and with the Father (Jn. 10:14-15).

Dear saints, we are the same Church with the same Lord and the same Savior. So, when doubts creep in and you wonder if God has forgotten you, the Word declares, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Heb. 13:5). When loneliness hits you hard, the fellowship of this congregation reminds you that you belong to a family bought with the Blood of Christ. When guilt weighs heavy, the Supper assures you, “This is My blood of the covenant, poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Mt. 26:28). When anxiety about the future grips you, the prayers lift you to the throne, where God’s peace, which surpasses all understanding, guards your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Php. 4:7).

So, continue to devote yourselves to these things. Don’t treat them as optional add-ons to life. Make the apostles’ teaching in the Scriptures your daily nourishment. Read your Bible with your family at home. Meditate on it in quiet moments. Cherish the fellowship. Stay after service to talk. Hear and bear one another’s burdens (Gal. 6:2). Come often to the breaking of bread in the Lord’s Supper for your strengthening in faith. And join faithfully in the prayers – our regular services here in this building, where we confess the Creed, pray, sing the hymns, and lift our common supplications to our God who sits on the throne of all creation. These are the very conduits through which Christ pours His life into yours.

Jesus is here now in our midst (Mt. 18:20), and He calls you to His table where He gives you the benefit of His death and resurrection. Here, in this Sacrament, He joins you to God the Father through His Body given for you and His Blood shed for you. And because you are individually joined to God, you are also joined to one another. Forgiven together, fed together, united in the one holy Christian Church. Come, dear saints. Taste and see that the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8). Amen.

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

Faith Waits – Sermon on Matthew 15:21-28 for the Second Sunday of Lent

Matthew 15:21-28

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Last week, we heard how the devil slithered into the Garden of Eden to tempt the woman (Gen. 3:1-21). That worm did what he always does and tried to create space between our first parents and God’s life-giving Word. And his scheme worked. They ate from the forbidden tree and fell into sin. Satan continues to do that work today. His tactic is to drive a wedge to distance you from God and God’s promises. His goal is to get you to doubt – leaving you isolated, anxious, and alone. Today, in this Gospel reading (Mt. 15:21-28), Jesus does the exact opposite work. Our Lord and Savior draws this Canaanite woman closer and closer to Himself and to God’s promises.

This mother comes to Jesus with a real problem. Her daughter is severely oppressed by a demon. At first, it looks like Jesus is the one creating space. He ignores her cries. He says that He’s only been sent for the lost sheep of Israel. He even calls her a dog. There’s no debating that Jesus is putting her through the ringer here. It looks like she should just quit and go home with a crushed spirit. But Jesus knows exactly what He’s doing. He knows and loves this woman and her daughter. He had come to redeem them and shed His blood for all their sin, just as He has come to redeem you from yours.

To see this, let’s try an analogy: Imagine an old tin bucket. It’s corroded, dented, and has several holes. That bucket can’t hold water, which is what a bucket is designed to do. To keep that bucket from running dry, it needs to be filled constantly. Dear saints, that’s us. We leak continuously. We have an inherited rustiness from the Fall and our original sin. The worries of this world keep poking more and more punctures into us. Disappointments open new cracks. Our sinful actions open up more holes. Satan’s accusations evaporate us like a blow torch. All of this empties us and would leave us bone-dry and bouncing through the desert of this fallen world. So, what’s the fix?

Well, according to Christ, we should learn from this woman. Jesus holds her before our eyes as an example by praising her, “O woman, great is your faith” (Mt. 15:28). That should get our attention. She is an example because she plants herself right next to Jesus, the Fountain of Living Water (Jn. 4:14, 7:37-38; Rev. 21:6). Even though it looks like the stream of God’s mercy that flows from Jesus isn’t for her, she presses in closer and closer and waits for the floodgates to open.

We don’t know how long this whole event takes. Matthew doesn’t tell us how long it was between the first moment she presents her problem to when Jesus finally praises her faith. It’s only eight verses, so it doesn’t take long to read. The way Matthew records this, it was probably an extended time.

It all starts with her initial plea and silence from Jesus. But she keeps crying out. You can see it in our translation in Mt. 15:22, “she was crying.” The force behind that verb is that this was a continual thing. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David!” Nothing. No response. The woman might have thought, “Maybe He didn’t hear me.” So, she cries out again, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David!” Still nothing. This keeps happening. “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David!” Eventually the disciples get tired of it all. They’re probably wondering why Jesus is ignoring her. Did He suddenly go deaf? Did too much sand blow in His ears? Eventually, it seems that the woman tries to get Jesus’ attention through the disciples because they finally chime in, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.” We don’t know how long this all went on. It could’ve been fifteen minutes; it could’ve been several hours.

But just imagine if you were there watching all of this unfold. You hear this woman asking and asking, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David!” Suppose you took this woman off to the side and asked her, “What are you doing?” She says, “Well, I’m praying.” So, you ask, “How’s that going? Is it working? Do you think it’s going to help your little girl?” She’d say, “I don’t know. He’s not answering me right now.” You might ask, “Well, why are you still praying? He’s obviously heard you, and if He was going to answer you, don’t you think that He would have by now? Why keep making a spectacle of yourself praying the same prayer over and over again?”

I mean, that’s reasonable. That’s how we conduct ourselves in normal conversations with other people. If people keep ignoring us, we just move on and go elsewhere. But this woman doesn’t do that. I think she’d respond to a statement like that by saying, “I’m waiting. I know who He is. He is my Lord. He is kind. He has come to destroy the works of the devil (1 Jn. 3:8). There is no one else who can help me. So, I’ll just keep waiting for Him.”

Finally, of course, Jesus does help her. Not only does Christ give her what she was pleading for, He also praises her. “O woman, great is your faith!” And that’s the point. Dear saints, faith presses in closer and closer to God and His promises. Faith hears (Ro. 10:17) all the things God has promised – mercy, grace, forgiveness, redemption, deliverance, eternal life. All these things are available only from one Source and that is our giving God. So, even if God seems to be ignoring our prayers and not giving what He has promised, faith waits.

This happens all over Scripture. Think of Jacob wrestling with God all night, refusing to let go until God blessed him (Gen. 32:22-32). Consider Hannah pouring out her longing for a child year after year after year (1 Sam. 1). How many of the Psalms ask some version of, “How long, O Lord?” (Ps. 13, 6:3, 79:5, 89:46, 94:3)? Dear saints, your cries to God do not – they do not – go unheard.

Faith waits even though it isn’t easy. This extremely difficult because you know that God could immediately answer every single one of your prayers quicker than you can even snap a finger. Your merciful Father could make everything perfect in the blink of an eye. The last sentence in our text says, that woman’s daughter was healed instantly (Mt. 15:28). Christ could make everything right this instant. So, why does He make you wait? I don’t know, and I’m sorry that you have to wait. But I do know that God has promised to always give you what is good (Mt. 7:11; Ro. 8:32).

What I do know is what Scripture says. We heard in our Old Testament reading (Is. 40:27-31), “They who wait for the Lordwill renew their strength.” And notice that wording. It doesn’t say, “They who wait for the Lord will become strong.” No. They will “renew their strength.” That means that strength is going to get depleted and will need to be renewed again and again and again. Think back to the rusty, leaky bucket. When your strength is depleted, when it has trickled and poured out of you, you need to be near the Source. Eventually, God will fix all your rust and cracks and holes. But not yet. For now, God lets those remain, and He promises that He will never let you run dry. He will keep filling you. He will renew you in His timing, which is not your timing. So wait, and it’s in that waiting that faith moves and presses in closer and closer to God.

Dear saints, each day has trials, and you are not equal to the task of those trials. And God’s desire is that each day you would come to Him and rely upon Him and His strength. That’s His design. His good and gracious plan is that He will be your Source of power and strength from which you dare never get far.

Wait for Him. Christ has you in His timing and in His strength. He has put all your enemies under His feet by His death and resurrection. He knows how best to rescue you. Your God, who makes these promises to you, is faithful, and He will do it (1 Th. 5:24). So, keep praying to Him, move closer to Him, and keep patiently and faithfully waiting. Amen.

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