Tag Archives: I Am Statements

I Am the Resurrection & the Life – Sermon on John 11:17-27 for Good Friday

The Scripture readings for tonight’s service are Isaiah 53:4-6; Psalm 102:1-2, 12; John 11:17-27; Luke 23:33-38; Luke 23:39-43; John 19:25-27; Mark 15:33-35; John 19:28-29; John 19:30; and Luke 23:45b-47.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Dear saints, on this Good Friday—just before we hear the seven words of Jesus from the cross—Jesus says to us, “I Am the Resurrection and the Life.”The first thing we need to have straight in our minds is that the Resurrection isn’t just a future event on God’s calendar. It isn’t only something that will happen on a particular day of a particular month of a particular year. No. The Resurrection is much more definite than that.

Instead of saying that He will cause a resurrection to happen, Jesus says that He is the embodiment of Resurrection and Life. The Resurrection is a Person. The Resurrection and the Life is your Savior, your Redeemer, your God who took on your flesh and blood. That means where Jesus is, there is the Resurrection and there is the Life.

It certainly is true that the Resurrection of all flesh is also something that will happen in the future. Jesus says, “An hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear My voice and come out”(Jn. 5:28-29). Christian, you rightly confess in the Creeds that you believe in “the Resurrection of the body, and the Life everlasting” (Apostles’) and that you “look for the Resurrection of the dead, and the Life of the world to come” (Nicene). But even now, believer, you are in the Resurrection and the Life. Jesus promises that though your heart may stop beating and you die, yet shall you live. Even better—Jesus goes one step further—you who live through faith in Christ shall never die (Jn. 11:25-26).

This is one of the most profound and comforting promises Jesus makes, but it is not easy to believe. After Jesus makes this promise, He asks Martha, “Do you believe this?” I don’t think there is any question that Jesus is asking Martha if she believes all four things He just said. 1) That He is the Resurrection. 2) That He is the Life. 3) That everyone who believes in Him will live even though he dies. And 4) That everyone who lives and believes in Him shall never die.

Martha’s answer seems incomplete. Notice, she doesn’t say, “Yes, Lord. I believe You are the Resurrection and the Life.” Instead, she answers, “Yes, Lord. I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God, Who is coming into the world.” With that answer, there’s no question that Martha is a Christian. But she doesn’t—at least not yet—have the comfort that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life. She believes Jesus is the Messiah. She believes that He is the Son of God who has come into the world. But it sounds like Martha doesn’t think that Jesus has the power to give life right now, right in the middle of her grief over losing her brother to death. 

I say that because in just a few verses, Jesus arrives at Lazarus’ tomb and tells the people to roll the stone away. And Martha says, “Lord, he’s been dead four days. If we roll the stone away, it’s going to stink” (Jn. 11:39). In other words, Martha thought it was too late for Jesus to do anything for her brother. But Jesus is about to show her the full reality of what she had confessed. Because Jesus is the Christ and the Son of God, He is also the Resurrection and the Life, and everyone who lives and believes in Him shall never die (Jn. 11:26).

Jesus arrives at Lazarus’ grave. The stone blocking the entrance to Lazarus’ tomb is rolled away. Jesus prays to His heavenly Father and cries out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” And I agree with whoever was the first to say that, if Jesus hadn’t called Lazarus—and only Lazarus—by name, then all the dead would have come out of the grave. “Lazarus, come out!” And Lazarus comes out from his grave alive (Jn. 11:41-46).

That day in the village of Bethany, death had to obey its Superior. But it isn’t long after this that the Resurrection and the Life marches straight into death’s jaws. On Good Friday, Jesus meets death face to face, not to demand the release of one man. He goes to defeat death once for all by giving Himself unto death.

It was the miracle of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead that stirred the chief priests and Pharisees to plot Jesus’ death (Jn. 11:53). And our Lord wasn’t surprised by this. In fact, He had been repeatedly saying it would happen for much of His ministry. Jesus wasn’t surprised by their plot. It was the very reason He had come to earth. So tonight, we remember that the One who called Lazarus out of the tomb willingly goes into the tomb for you.

This also means, dear saints, that there is nowhere you can go that your Savior, who is the Resurrection and the Life, hasn’t been before. He knows what it is to be human—in every aspect—from conception to adulthood. He knows what it is to have friends and family who sometimes fail Him. He knows what it is to be hungry, thirsty, and tired. He knows what it is to be tempted (Heb. 4:15). He knows how it feels to mourn the death of loved ones (Jn. 11:34-36). He even knows death (Jn. 11:30).

Because the Resurrection and the Life has been in all those places, His holiness has sanctified them and left resurrection and life in His wake.

So tonight, dear saints, as you hear the seven words of Jesus from the cross, don’t hear them as the pitiful cries of a dying man. Instead, hear them for what they really are. They are the words of the Resurrection and the Life accomplishing your salvation and defeating death for you.

The Resurrection and the Life prays, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk. 23:34) because He pays the full price for your forgiveness.

The Resurrection and the Life says to the thief on the cross, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise” (Lk. 23:43) because He is opening heaven even while He hangs under the sentence of death.

The Resurrection and the Life says, “It is finished,”(Jn. 19:30) because He has broken death’s power over you forever.

And the Resurrection and the Life says, “Father, into Your hands I commit My Spirit” (Lk. 23:46). His Body will be in the tomb for three days, but that same Body will rise again to bring Resurrection and Life to all who believe in Him.

Dear saints, tonight is not a funeral for Jesus because He is the Resurrection and the Life. Even though death is a powerful enemy, it is not possible for death to hold Christ (Act. 2:24). In Jesus’ crucifixion, death swallowed more than it could chew. His death has caused death itself to die. By Christ’s death, death itself is forever swallowed up in Resurrection victory (Is. 25:8; 1 Co. 15:54).

Because you are joined to Him in faith, it cannot hold you either. As surely as He called Lazarus from the grave, He will also call you from yours. 

Believer, tonight, Jesus says to you, “I Am the Resurrection and the Life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die” (Jn. 11:25-26). By the power of His life-giving Word, you can believe it. Amen.

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

I Am the Bread of Life – Sermon on John 6:35-51 for Maundy Thursday

The Scripture readings for tonight’s service are Psalm 111:1-6; Deuteronomy 8:1-3; Hebrews 9:11-15; and John 6:35-51.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

On this very night—1,993 years ago—Jesus celebrated the final Passover feast with His disciples. When that meal was done, Jesus took bread, gave thanks, broke it, and gave it to His disciples, saying, “Take, eat; this is My Body, which is given for you. This do in remembrance of Me.”Then He took the cup, blessed it, and gave it to the disciples, saying, “Drink of it, all of you; this Cup is the New Covenant in My Blood, which is shed for you for the forgiveness of sins. This do, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of Me” (Mt. 26:26-28; Mk. 14:22-24; Lk. 22:19-20; 1 Co. 11:23-25).

One year before that, right around this time of year—1,994 years ago (Jn. 6:4)—Jesus fed 5,000 men, plus women and children, near the Sea of Galilee. The very next day Jesus stood before that same crowd and declared, “I Am the Bread of Life.”

To understand this text, it’s helpful to have an idea of just who these people are. Like every child of Adam, they lived under the curse of sin which meant they could only eat bread by the sweat of their brow until they returned to the ground (Gen. 3:19). They lived in Galilee, which was a very fruitful land. But heavy taxes and tributes took 30-50% of what they earned. Those taxes meant that most of them could not own their own lands. Instead, they had to find work each day as day laborers. Getting daily bread first required them to find a job for that day. Then, they could eat by the sweat of their brow. They were not utterly destitute, but their lives were far more precarious ours. The line between food and starvation was always just a step behind them.

Then, Jesus came. With five loaves and two fish, He fed a stadium-sized crowd so that every stomach was full. And He could do that in an instant. That’s the kind of man you want to keep around. No more searching. No more sweating. No more fear that the table might be empty tonight. Here was security. Here was stability. Here was a Man who could roll back the curse of eating bread through sweat and toil.

The people tasted that bread. It filled them and carried them through the night. So, the next day they went looking for Jesus. Yes, they were chasing daily bread, but that desire wasn’t evil. They were trying to reach for Eden again. They longed to return to the initial goodness of God’s creation where He would feed them. They wanted to be done with the curse. Done with the thorns and thistles. Done with the pain and sweat and toil of getting daily bread. They wanted life as God had first given it.

In the verses leading up to our text, Jesus sees their hearts. He says, “You are seeking Me… because you ate your fill of the loaves.” But listen to what our Lord says next: “Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you” (Jn. 6:26-27). Jesus is pointing them to something more and better than daily bread: “Don’t just chase after the kind of bread that keeps you alive for one more hour or day. Instead, chase after the Bread that gives you eternal life. I Am the Bread of Life.” Jesus had come to give them far more than a steady supply of bread for their bellies.

In our reading, Jesus presses the point even deeper: “I Am the Bread of Life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died” (Jn. 6:48-49). Think about it. Their great-great-great-great-grandfathers ate heavenly bread that God rained down on them every morning for forty years in the wilderness. Each day, God gave what they needed to sustain them. Even though they were fed by very the hand of God, they still died. Every last one of them. God humbled them. God let them hunger so they would learn that man does not live by bread alone, but by every Word that comes from the mouth of God (Dt. 8:1-3).

Then, Jesus says something astonishing: “This is the Bread that comes down from heaven, so that one may eat of it and not die. I Am the Living Bread that came down from heaven. If anyone eats of this Bread, he will live forever. And the bread that I will give for the life of the world is My flesh” (Jn. 6:50-51).

Dear saints, do you hear echoes of something more, something better, than the daily manna that God provided? Here is a promise: Eat and never die. Eat and live forever. This is more than the reversal of thorns and thistles. Here is the undoing of death itself!

Jesus is promising a food that results in eternal life. Jesus is offering a new and better Tree of Life. At the end of Genesis 3, God would not let Adam and Eve eat from the original Tree of Life because that would mean living forever in their sin. So, God drove them out and sent the cherubim with a flaming sword to guard them from an eternal life in sin (Gen. 3:22-24).

But now the Son of God steps forward and says, “I have come to give you more than daily bread. I have come to give you Myself as Living Bread that will give you eternal life.”

Dear saints, the Tree that gives eternal life does not grow out of the ground in Eden. It was carried by Simon of Cyrene and planted on Golgotha by a Roman soldier (Mk. 15:21-25). The Fruit of that Tree does not blossom from a flower. It was nailed to that cross with iron spikes. Jesus Himself is the Tree of Life because He is the Bread of Life. He is the way to life without end.

Tonight, dear saints, Jesus has gathered you here so that you would eat that Bread.

He has brought you here to taste and see that the Lord is good (Ps. 34:8). He has brought you here so you would hear His Word and live. Jesus promises that you will live forever because you believe in Him. Your sins are forgiven. Jesus carried them in His Body to the cross. He has died for them. Christ has taken upon Himself not just your flesh and blood, but also your sin and shame. He suffered it all so He could give you Himself—the Bread that never perishes and the Life that never ends. With His Own blood your great High Priest has won an eternal redemption for you. He has cleansed your consciences so you can now serve the living God. Through Him and the New Covenant in His Blood, you have the promised inheritance (Heb. 9:11-14).

Dear saints, come. Come, eat. Come, drink. Come, believe. Come, live because your Savior is the Bread of Life. Amen.

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

I Am the True Vine – Sermon on John 15:1-8 for Midweek Lent 5

The Scripture readings for tonight’s service are Psalm 92:12-15; Isaiah 5:1-7; Galatians 5:16-26; and John 15:1-8.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

One of the beautiful things about these “I Am” statements of Jesus is that, as we learn about who Christ is, we also learn about who we are. The first week, we heard Christ say, “I Am the Light of the world” (Jn. 9:5). That means we sit in darkness but are enlightened by Christ. The second week, we heard Christ say, “I Am the Door of the sheep” (Jn. 10:7). That means we are the sheep who have access through Him. The third week, we heard Christ say, “I Am the Good Shepherd” (Jn. 10:11). That means we’re His flock. Last week, we heard Christ say, “I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life” (Jn. 14:6). That means we are the ones who are on the Way, who are given the Truth, and who are made to live in Him.

Tonight, Jesus says, “I Am the True Vine,” but before He even calls us the branches, He adds, “My Father is the Vinedresser” (Jn. 15:1). That means God the Father prunes us. Being pruned isn’t always pleasant. It often comes with pain and confusion. Branches don’t know why, or to what end, they’re being pruned. But the vinedresser, the gardener, does. Pruning is rarely comfortable, but it is always purposeful.

Most of you know a lot more about plants and gardening than I do, so know that I’m open to any tips or suggestions you may have for me after the service. Again, I’m not a gardener, but I have done some pruning. At our house, we have a couple of lilac bushes – one of which is at the corner of our house where we have our two biggest windows. If we want to be able to see out of those windows, we need to keep that lilac bush in check, so we prune it.

‘Prune’ might be too delicate a word. At least twice in the sixteen years we’ve lived in our house, I’ve taken a chain saw, gotten as low as possible to the ground, and hewed that sucker down. I’m no Paul Bunyan. But give me a chainsaw and I can fell a lilac bush. The first time I used the chain saw, I thought the bush would die. (There was a part of me that hopedit would die so we could plant something that is less work.) But, sure enough, the bush came back. More shoots sprouted off the stumps. Leaves budded. I don’t remember if the bush flowered the next year, but it certainly did the year after. Often, we hack it down, about to the bottom of the windows. It’s at least a biannual battle between us and the lilac bush. It’s amazing how resilient some plants are.

I hack away at that lilac bush just so I can see out of a window. But a good gardener prunes with a higher purpose. He doesn’t prune just so he can see a lot of dead stuff on the ground. He prunes so the plant will bear more fruit, and he knows how much pruning a plant can handle.

The pruning we endure only makes sense when we remember that Jesus is the Vine and we are the branches. We are not separate from Him. We wrongfully tend to think that Jesus is unaffected by the difficulties we face in this world. We imagine, since He has overcome death and has ascended into heaven, that He’s ‘semi-retired.’ It can seem that the risen and ascended Jesus is separate from our troubles, our difficulties, and our pain. That is not the case.

Dear saints, when the pruning comes – and it does come – Jesus is not watching from a distance. He is the Vine, and we are the branches. When there is difficulty, when there is pain, when there is pruning, Christ is right there in all of it. Remember when Paul encounters Jesus on the road to Damascus. Paul was persecuting Christians, throwing them into prison, and overseeing some of them being executed (Act. 8:1-3, 9:1-2). Jesus appears to him on the road and says, “Saul, Saul,” (using Paul’s given name), “why are you persecuting Me?” Jesus takes Paul’s persecution personally because it is personal. What Paul was doing to the Church, he was doing to the Church’s Lord (Act. 9:4-5).

When you are pruned, so is Jesus. Now, Christ doesn’t need pruning because He’s the Vine. We need pruning because we’re the branches. Dear saints, know that when there is pruning, Jesus is right there with and in all of it. So, when you face anything painful, know that your heavenly Father is using that thing, whatever it is, as His pruning shears. And He is much more skilled and intentional and purposeful in pruning you than I am when I hack away at our lilac bush.

Dear saints, your Father’s pruning is painful. And it’s hard for us to imagine that things that are painful are good for us. When we go through those painful things, we often only see them as painful and difficult. You can hear that pain throughout the Psalms and in Job. A person is suffering and asks questions like, “How long?” or, “Why?” Those are fine, Scriptural questions to ask. But don’t just stop at that question, “Why?” because you won’t learn more.

Here, Jesus tells you why. He tells you that there is a purposeful plan. Your heavenly Father, the Vinedresser, prunes you so that you may bear more fruit. When there is pruning, it is so there can be fruit bearing.

If there is no pruning, no hardship, no pain, that’s the worst sign. Jesus says, “If anyone does not abide in Me, he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned.” If you’re just growing in whatever direction you please and aren’t being pruned, the end result is burning.

Pruning or burning – those are the two possibilities that lie before us. Jesus doesn’t give us a third option of forever escaping things that are uncomfortable. Either we can be pruned now, or we can be burned later. Consider the outcomes of the two disciples, Judas and Peter. By the time Jesus says this, Judas has already left (Jn. 13:21-30) and has stopped abiding in Jesus, the Vine. Even though Judas feels the pain of betraying Jesus, he doesn’t repent. There is sorrow, but there’s no repentance. No repentance means there’s no pruning. So, Judas’ eternal destination is the fire (Jn. 17:12).

On the other hand, you have Peter. He promised that he would abide in Jesus (Jn. 13:37), but before the sun can rise, Peter denies Christ three times. Right after his third denial, the rooster crows. In Luke, we’re told that Jesus simply looks across the courtyard at Peter, and that glance is enough to make Peter weep bitterly (Lk. 22:60-62). There is pain there, but that glance from Jesus is enough to prune Peter. After the resurrection, Jesus doesn’t chide and scold Peter. That glance was all it took to trim off the suckers that would have kept Peter from bearing fruit. Peter’s pain turns into Peter’s repentance. Peter’s repentance turns into Peter’s faith. Peter’s faith turns into Peter’s restoration (Jn. 21:15-17), and Jesus tells Peter, “Follow Me. I have more pruning in store for you” (Jn. 21:18-22).

This kind of honesty from Jesus – that there will be pain, either from pruning or burning – it isn’t something I like to hear. But Jesus speaks truth. And a hard, honest truth is always better than the sweetest-sounding lie. In these verses, Jesus doesn’t promise comfort. He promises pruning. That pruning is proof that you abide in Him. And that pruning results in you bearing much fruit and revealing to the world that you are His disciples.

The promise of bearing fruit, much fruit, is already comforting. But Jesus gives you a further picture of what His goal, His endgame is. We didn’t read it, but down in John 15:16, Jesus says, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide.”

Dear saints, your fruit does not wither and rot. It abides. Always green. Always bearing fruit that is always abiding (Ps. 1:1-3; Jer. 17:7-8). Listen again to what Jesus says, “I Am the Vine. You are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing” (Jn. 15:5). What Jesus intends for you, His branches, is bigger and greater than you can ask or imagine (Eph. 3:20). 

Dear saints, abide in Him the True Vine. In Him is the eternal Spring, in Him is fruitfulness, and in Him is life everlasting. Amen.

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

I Am the Way, the Truth, & the Life – Sermon on John 14:1-7 for Midweek Lent 4

The Scripture readings for tonight’s service are Psalm 25:4-10; Isaiah 30:19-23a; Colossians 2:6-10; and John 14:1-7.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

This text is so rich and beautiful. If it were a gemstone, it would glimmer and glisten in the light. If it were a meal, it would be a perfectly seasoned, 90-day dry aged ribeye cooked to a perfect medium rare. If it were a touch, a two-hour massage on a pristine beach. You can add any other sensation you’d like. This text is so comforting that it is has been used in a high percentage of the funerals I’ve officiated. In this text, Jesus, your Lord and Savior, says to you, “Let not your hearts be troubled. I’m preparing a place for you, so you can be with Me forever.” It’s absolutely wonderful and beautiful.

Sadly, unbelievers hate it. They find what Jesus says here utterly offensive. It chafes and grinds on them because of Jesus’ “I Am” statement. “I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” For pagan unbelievers, that’s like fingernails on a chalkboard. And sure, to a degree, the reason they recoil from it is the exclusive nature of what Jesus says. Today, people get really uneasy when it comes to right vs. wrong. They hate the idea of exclusive claims and objective truth so much that they’ll say absolutely absurd things like, “You have your truth, and I have mine,” and “Two plus two may equal four for you, but it can equal five or three or 1,743 for someone else.” It seems like that kind of ridiculous, radical relativism is on the decline, but it still has a powerful hold on many in our culture.

But I think people hate Jesus saying, “I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me,” for a different, but related, reason than its exclusivity. They find it offensive because they realize that statement implies something is deeply wrong with them, so wrong that there is only one way to fix it. If you walked up to a random person and shared the simple Gospel truth, “Jesus forgives you of your sins” (1 Jn. 2:2; Tit. 2:11), they won’t hear that as good news. Instead, they’re going to hear what lies behind it and will push back, “You’re calling me a sinner? You’re not perfect! Who do you think you are? You’re not the judge of me. I’m basically a good person.” When they hear, “No one comes to the Father except through Me,” they understand what lies behind it. What lies behind it is that they are so broken that it literally takes an act of God Himself to fix them. And that’s offensive to them.

They might not have minded if Jesus said, “I am a way, a truth, and a life,” as though there were alternative ways, truths, and lifes [sic.]. They will grossly accuse God, “If God were really loving, he wouldn’t be so closed minded. If he really loved people, he’d make sure there were many ways to be saved.” Sigh. Dear saints, you can’t out-Gospel God. You can’t out-love the God who is love (1 Jn. 4:8, 16).

Imagine everyone in the world was out wandering in the desert. It’s hot. Dry. We’re all getting sandblasted because of the wind. Suddenly, we see down in a valley, this beautiful city with pools and gardens and barbecue restaurants (see Is. 25:6). That city is where we want to be. But we see this tall, thick wall that goes all the way around it. We start to think that there’s no way to get in there. We start walking around the city scrounging for a way to get inside. Then, there it is. A door. A gate in that massive wall, and it’s wide open. There is a way in.

We start telling everyone else, “We can go in now. We can get out of this desert. We can cool off and wash and eat and live forever in the city!” But most of the people say, “I don’t want to go in that way. I want to go in over here.” We object, “But there’s no door over there.” “I know, but I’m not going through that gate.” “Why? It isn’t dangerous. You don’t have to crawl through a bunch of sewage or anything.” “I know, but I still don’t like it. Maybe the city council will put in another door over here. Or I’ll just keep walking into the wall and hope it disappears.”

There is a way to salvation and eternal life. Jesus is that way, and He is the only way. There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved (Act. 4:12). When you talk with people who are offended and think there should be many ways, show them how ridiculous that is, but do it in a manner that is loving and kind. Don’t let them be deluded thinking that ‘one way’ is equivalent to ‘no way.’ There is a Way, and that Way is Jesus.

To get a better idea of why there is no other way, we have to do a little groundwork. Look at Jn. 14:2 again. Jesus gives this great promise, “In My Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” When Jesus says He’s going to prepare a place for you, He isn’t saying that there was something wrong with heaven. The problem wasn’t that Jesus needed to put an addition on because there wasn’t enough space. The problem wasn’t that heaven was messy and needed to get tidied up. The problem wasn’t that Jesus had to put new linens out and mints on the pillow. The problem wasn’t anything wrong with the Father’s house. The problem was in us. Jesus says this the night before His crucifixion, not His ascension. He is ascended as the King and Ruler of all creation. Right now, He is actively governing all things for your benefit (Mt. 28:18; Eph. 1:20-22; 1 Pet. 3:22). He isn’t doing some heavenly housekeeping.

This going to prepare a place refers to the cross. Jesus has to prepare a place for us in His Father’s house because God’s holiness and perfection is in that house. Sinners like us can’t survive that. The Father’s house is only for the holy, the perfect, the righteous. That isn’t us. Our sinful nature excludes us, and the fact that we continue to fall into sin slams the door in our face. 

So, when you hear Jesus say, “I go to prepare a place for you,” you can hear that as Him saying, “I go to prepare you for that place.” In other words, Jesus is saying, “I’m going to win your forgiveness. I am going to do everything necessary for your salvation. I’m going to take all your sin into Myself and pay for it all. Anything that would exclude you from being in My place by My side, I’m going to destroy. In return I’m going to give you My righteousness, My holiness, My perfection so that you belong there. By My work, you’ll fit right in.”

That’s the fix. That’s the solution. That’s the Way, and the only Way.

Because Jesus has died and risen again, He is the Way. All your law-breaking, all your sin, all the love you have failed to give has been taken from you (Jn. 1:29) and brought to the cross. There Christ prepared you for a place in the Father’s house.

Believer, when you die and show up at the door of the Father’s house, you’re going to find the door wide open. The angels will carry you in across the threshold saying, “This is where you belong,” because through faith, you are part of God’s family now. You heard in tonight’s Epistle (Col. 2:6-10), you have received Christ. You have been filled in Him, who is the Head of all rule and authority. Continue to walk in Him. Let Him gently guide you. I love how our Old Testament reading (Is. 30:19-23) put it, “Your Teacher will not hide Himself anymore…. And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, ‘This is the way. Walk in it.’”

Dear saints, your Savior is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. As the Way, He guides you to and in the Truth. As the Truth, He establishes you in Life. Tonight and every day of your life, Jesus says to you, Amen. “Let not your heart be troubled. I Am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”

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

I Am the Good Shepherd – Sermon on John 10:11-18 for Midweek Lent 3

The Scripture readings for tonight’s service are Psalm 100; Jeremiah 23:1-3; Hebrews 13:20-21; and John 10:11-18.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Picture a father and his daughter. The father works every day to provide food, clothes, and a house for his little girl. His daughter puts on a dress and invites him to her tea parties with all her stuffed animals. Every night, that father sings to his little princess, tucks her snugly under the covers, kisses her forehead, and whispers, “I love you.” All of those actions – his work, his play, and his care –are all ways that father tells his daughter, “I love you.”

Keep picturing that same father and daughter. Now, she’s a teenager and the father is going to meet her at the county fair. He walks through the grounds and sees a crowd standing in a circle. They’re shouting. Dust is flying in the air. The father pushes his way to the center only to find three grown men shoving his daughter to the ground. She’s scraped up and dirty. Her shirt sleeve is torn. That’s his precious girl. So, the father leaps into the fray hollering, “That’s my daughter!” He fights fiercely. He takes some punches in his gut and a few blows to the back of his head, but he begins to get the upper hand. With all his might, he shoves the first man headfirst into a trailer. He spins, winds up, and punches the second man square in the face, knocking him out cold. He locks the third in a chokehold until the man slumps face-down in the dirt.

Now, which version of that father is loving? Is it the father who provides, has tea parties, and quietly tucks the girl in with a kiss? Or is it the father who immediately jumps into a fight, even though he is outnumbered, and rescues her with violence? It’s both, isn’t it? It’s both, and equally so. Tender care and fierce defense are two sides of the same love. The daughter interprets both as her father saying, “I love you, my daughter.”

I mentioned this last week, but it needs repeating. When Jesus declares, “I Am the Good Shepherd,” here, He’s addressing the Pharisees. So, this statement isn’t initially directed to believers to comfort them. It’s judgment on false shepherds. But as Jesus’ sheep, you overhear them and are comforted by them – and rightly so. It’s like the father yelling, “That’s my daughter!” not first to her but to warn the attackers that he’s coming for them. But she hears it and recognizes the echo of him whispering, “I love you, dear girl,” as she is tucked into bed.

This metaphor of God as the Shepherd of His people is all over the Bible. Many of those passages are spoken directly to God’s people as comfort. Isaiah 40:10-11, pictures God tending His flock, gathering lambs in His arms, carrying them in His bosom, and gently leading His sheep. Psalm 78:52 recalls how God led His people like sheep out of Egypt and guided them through the wilderness. And Psalm 23, of course, is David’s song of the tender care of his Shepherd.

But a number of other passages use the same image as a stern warning. Our reading tonight from Jer. 23:1-3 thunders against the shepherds who destroy and scatter the sheep of His pasture. God says, “I will attend to you for your evil deeds. Then I will gather My flock, bring them back to their fold, and they shall be fruitful.”

As I prepared for these services, I had a hard time deciding between using Jer. 23 and another text – Ezk. 34. (I went with Jeremiah because you’ll hear Ezekiel on Easter 3 in about a month.) But as I wrote this sermon, I wished I’d chosen Ezekiel because it lies behind what Jesus says to here in Jn. 10. So, let me summarize it for you now. Ezekiel 34 begins with God’s woe against faithless shepherds. They weren’t caring for God’s sheep; instead, they were using the sheep for their own comfort and benefit. They didn’t strengthen the weak. They didn’t heal the sick or bind up the injured sheep. They did not bring back the strayed or seek the lost sheep. The end result was that God’s flock was scattered over the face of the earth with no one to seek after them (Ezk. 34:1-6). So, God says, “I am against the shepherds and will require My sheep at their hand” (Ezk. 34:7-10).

Then, Yahweh, the Great ‘I Am,’ promises, “I, I Myself will search for My sheep. I will rescue them. I will gather them into their own land. I will feed them in good grazing land and rich pasture.” Then in Ezk. 34:15-16, Yahweh says, “I Myself will be the shepherd of My sheep, and I Myself will make them lie down. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak.”

So, when Jesus proclaims, “I Am the Good Shepherd” (Jn. 10:11), He’s echoing that warning and promise from Yahweh back in Ezk. 34. So, hear this text in that light.

When you lie in the dust, surrounded by enemies, Jesus says, “I Am the Good Shepherd” (Jn. 10:11). He has come to rescue you because you are His. Jesus says, “The Good Shepherd lays down His life for the sheep,”(Jn. 10:11, 17). He has counted the cost and judged you to be worth His blood. Unlike the hireling who flees when he sees the wolf, Jesus stands firm by your side and will never abandon you (Jn. 10:12-13). Jesus knows you and you know him (Jn. 10:14). And notice how intimate this knowing is. Look again at Jn. 10:15, “Just as the Father knows Me and I know the Father.”Dear flock of God, you share that same, intimate fellowship with your Good Shepherd.

There’s one more beautiful aspect to this image of Jesus being your Good Shepherd. It isn’t directly from this text, so I’ve saved it for the end. In this text, Jesus only names the wolf as the enemy of His flock. But the wolf stands in for all your enemies of sin, death, and the devil. We can easily picture two-thirds of that. When the devil comes at you, Your Good Shepherd steps between you and his claws. When death and the grave opens its mouth wide, your Good Shepherd stuffs Himself into its jaws so fully that it gags and has to spit Him out three days later. It easy to picture how your Good Shepherd shields you from the devil and the grave.

But how does Your Good Shepherd stand between you and your sin? Your sin isn’t ‘out there’ like the death and the devil. Sin is the enemy within all of us – in our hearts and minds. In fact, we are sinners. So how could Jesus stand between us and sin? Well, it turns out that the Good Shepherd is also a sheep. Rev. 7:17 says, “The Lamb who sits in the midst of the throne [is your] Shepherd,” and He is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world (Jn. 1:29).

Dear flock, your Good Shepherd sought you. He drew near to you. He came so close that He became one of you. He took on your flesh and blood so He could stand between you and the punishment you deserve because of your sin. Because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, all your enemies are utterly scattered. They flee at the sight of your Shepherd standing by your side.

Dear saints, your Good Shepherd has arrived. He will never leave or forsake you. He has died for you. He forgives all your sins. He is risen and will shepherd you through all the troubles of this life until He brings you to the joys of eternal life with Him in pastures that are forever green. Amen.

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

I Am the Door – Sermon on John 10:1-10 for Midweek Lent 2

The Scripture readings for tonight’s service are Psalm 118:19-24, 28-29; Isaiah 26:1-3; Hebrews 10:19-22; and John 10:1-10.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

John 10 is widely known as the Good Shepherd chapter because it’s where Jesus has two “I Am” statements, “I Am the Door of the sheep; I Am the Good Shepherd” (Jn. 10:7, 11). Both of those declarations are comforting. Very comforting for us. But in context, dear saints, both statements are actually judgment against the Pharisees because they have turned their back on Jesus, the Shepherd of their souls (1 Pet. 2:25).

Last week, we heard the beginning of Jn. 9 where Jesus declares “I Am the Light of the world.” Then, He healed the man who was born blind. A tense exchange follows. The Pharisees pressure the formerly-blind man to deny Jesus (Jn. 9:8-34). They fail. Instead, the man boldly confesses that only someone from God could perform such a miracle. Later, Jesus finds him again, and the man worships and believes in Christ (Jn. 9:35-38).

John 9 closes with Jesus saying, “For judgment I came into this world, that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind” (Jn. 9:39). The Pharisees hear this and ask Jesus, “Are we also blind?” Jesus responds, “If you were blind, you would have no guilt; but now that you say, ‘We see,’ your guilt remains” (Jn. 9:41). That conversation flows directly into our text tonight, “Truly, truly I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs in by another way, that man is a thief and a robber” (Jn. 10:1-10). Notice that Jn. 10:6 says that Jesus is addressing this figure of speech to people who are identified only as “them” and “they.” The ‘them’ and ‘they’ are the Pharisees who have rejected Jesus as the Good Shepherd (Jn. 10:11). The Pharisees did not understand (Jn. 10:6).

Now, I admit that Jesus doesn’t explicitly say, “I Am the Good Shepherd,” until Jn. 10:11 – one verse after our text. But Jesus has implicitly said it. He begins by mentioning the sheepfold. In Jesus’ day, and still today, a sheepfold was often a cave that was partially closed by a rock wall along the opening. There was just a small gap so the flock could enter the sheepfold for safety or exit it to find pasture. The way that sheepfold was closed is that the shepherd would station himself at the opening and be the door himself. So, to reach the sheep, you had to go through the shepherd. If anyone tried to enter by a different way than through the door (i.e. the shepherd), that person was trying to harm the sheep.

Jesus is that Door because He is that Shepherd. Whoever enters through Him will be saved. When Jesus talks about going in and going out, He isn’t talking about being saved in the sheepfold vs. being not saved when you are out of the sheepfold. Instead, the saved are the ones who go in and the ones who go out and find pasture. The coming and going of the sheep (which needs to happen) is all through Him.

So, being in or out of the sheepfold isn’t equal to being saved or damned. The parable of the Lost Sheep in Lk. 15:1-7 is different in that way. Here, in or out doesn’t matter. Instead, the focus is on the fact that the saved have access through Jesus, the Door. That’s what saves. Christ is your Shepherd-Door. Because of Him, you are safe whether you are in or out. You have peace in the sheepfold, and you have freedom from danger when you are out in the pleasant pastures. Psalm 121:7-8 is a nice parallel to what Jesus says in Jn. 10:9, “The Lord will keep you from all evil; He will keep your life. The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time forth and forevermore.”

With this image, Jesus also recalls parts of our Psalm tonight (Ps. 118:19-24, 28-29). This text takes place when Jesus is in Jerusalem for the Feast of Tabernacles (Jn. 7:2), when parts of Ps. 118 were sung. As the people entered the Temple during the feast, they would sing, “Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and give thanks to the Lord. This is the gate of the Lord; the righteous shall enter through it” (Ps. 118:19-20).

Jesus is the Door through which you have access to and encounter Yahweh, the Great “I Am.” By Christ’s blood, you can have confidence to enter the holy places. He has opened that way for you through His flesh (Heb. 10:19-20). 

Let me switch gears for a moment here. I can’t preach on this text without mentioning how the sheep hear the voice of the Shepherd, Who is also the Door.

In Jesus’ day, everyone owned a handful of sheep because that was how you got your clothing, milk, meat, and leather. But daily life – farming, cooking, chores – meant that people couldn’t tend the flock full-time. So, families in a neighborhood would combine their sheep into one larger flock of 60, 80, 100 sheep, and one person would shepherd them all. In large towns, there would be several different flocks that were tended by several shepherds.

By day, each shepherd would lead his flock to pleasant pastures. At night, the shepherd would bring his flock back into the village where there was a large sheepfold. And all the different flocks would spend the night together so most of the shepherds could go home and sleep. Only one of them would be the Door for the night as all the sheep slept in the pen.

In the morning, the shepherds returned to that pen where the flocks were all mixed together. You might think it would be chaotic to try and sort out which shepherd was responsible for which sheep. But, no. It wasn’t a problem. Each shepherd simply called his sheep by name, “Come, Long-ears. Up, White-nose. Let’s go, Stubby-legs.” Each sheep would hear the familiar voice of its own shepherd, and they would all follow him to go frolic in the fields for the day. That’s the picture Jesus uses throughout John 10.

Dear saints, you know the voice of your Shepherd. He softly, tenderly, and kindly calls to you in the Scriptures. Enter through Him and you will be saved. He calls you by name (Is. 43:1-2; Jn. 10:3), and He has called you to life – abundant, eternal life in Him. Amen.

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

I Am the Light of the World – Sermon on John 9:1-7 for Midweek Lent 1

The Scripture readings for tonight’s service are Psalm 27:1-4; Isaiah 42:1-7; 2 Corinthians 4:1-6; and John 9:1-7.

In the name of Jesus. Amen.

When the disciples see this man who was born blind, they rightly recognize something is off. Blindness isn’t the way things should be. Eyes were created to see, but this man’s eyes are dark. That isn’t right. There should be light in those eyes, but they are dark with blindness. The disciples are correct in sensing the disconnect, but their answer misses the mark.

Notice that the disciples only ask a question, “Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” but their question assumes that sin is the answer for this particular darkness. Instead of playing “Pin the Tail on the Donkey,” they’re playing “Pin the Blame on the Sinner.” They suppose that some specific sin is the reason he had never looked into his mother’s eyes, never seen a sunrise, never seen anything. The disciples were simply trying to make sense of the darkness with guilt and blame. Too often, we do the same.

In a world that is darkened by sin, we want to make sense of why things are off-kilter. We grope around for an answer to why. “Why is there this darkness?” Sadly, the most common explanation we have for darkness is to try to assign blame. We do the same thing all the time. “Whose fault is this?” “Who can we blame?” Those kinds of questions are asked all the time in hospital rooms, at gravesides, when a marriage grows cold, and whenever things aren’t as they should be. It’s our vain search for an answer to why darkness exists.

Jesus’ answer is so wonderful. It’s a shocking answer that should lift our dark hearts. Listen to how it frees: “It wasn’t that this man sinned, or his parents” (Jn. 9:3). In other words, not every blindness, not every broken relationship, not every disease is the direct result of a specific sin. Sure. Of course. Suffering flows directly because of the Fall. Sin is what brought suffering and disease and death and darkness into God’s good creation. But Jesus doesn’t let us play the blame game that crushes others with guilt. Christ says, “It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (Jn. 9:3). God is going to display His saving works in and toward and through the blind man.

This text we just read was not the first time Jesus said, “I am the Light of the World.” Jesus first said it back in Jn. 8:12during a tense exchange with the Pharisees that we aren’t going to rehash. Just know that Jesus had already said that He is the Light of the World, but He says it again before He heals this man who was blind from birth. 

We heard in our Psalm tonight (Ps. 27:1-4), “Yahweh is my light and my salvation.” Here, Jesus shows that He is that light and salvation. He is the same God who began creation by saying, “Let there be light” (Gen. 1:3; Jn. 1:3), and here He proves that He is God in the flesh by doing something only the Creator can do. He heals the blind man with actions that replicate the creation of Adam.

In the beginning, God took dust from the ground that was wet from a mist; God used that mud to form Adam’s body and breathed into Adam’s nostrils the breath of life (Gen. 2:6-7). Jesus doesn’t have that same mist to make mud, so He creates His own. Right there in the dirt of Jerusalem, the Creator is at work again. Our Lord spits on the ground and spreads that mud on the man’s eye sockets (Jn. 9:6). So, we should see that Jesus is not only healing the man – He is creating. He is showing that He is the One who spoke light into existence at the very beginning.

At the end of our Old Testament reading tonight (Is. 42:1-7), Isaiah spoke about Yahweh’s Servant who was coming as “a light for the nations, to open eyes that are blind, to bring prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness” (Is. 42:6-7). Jesus is that Servant, and He is doing exactly that here. A little bit later, John tells us that Jesus did this creative work on a Sabbath (Jn. 9:14). It’s a new Sabbath of a new creation that is free – totally free – from the darkness of sin.

Like this blind man, you and I were born spiritually blind. We stumbled around in the darkness of our sin and chased after the shadows. But Jesus has come as the Light and took on our darkness. As He hung on the cross, darkness fell over the earth, and Jesus cried out, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Mt. 27:45-46). God had forsaken Jesus so that your sin – every dark thought, every selfish choice, every time you blamed someone else for your pain – would be paid for completely.

Three days later, the Light of the World burst forth from the grave. Now, the risen Christ continuously shines out of the darkness and into your heart. In His brightness you have the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ (2 Co. 4:6).

Dear saints, Jesus, the Light of the World, continues to display the works of God in you (Jn. 9:3). Look again at Jn. 9:4where Jesus says, “We must work the works of Him Who sent Me while it is day.” In the past, I’ve always assumed that Jesus is still talking to the disciples because He’s answering their blame and guilt question right before. But after He corrects their wrong assumption, the disciples drop out of the account. They aren’t involved in the healing of the man in the rest of our text or even in the rest of Jn. 9. In fact, the disciples aren’t even mentioned again until Jn. 11:7. The text doesn’t specifically say it, but the way John writes this, you are to see Jesus dismiss the disciples’ blame question and then turn to the blind man when He says, “We must work the works of Him Who sent Me while it is day,” because it’s the man who was born blind who works with Jesus for the rest of the chapter.

Jesus does the work of creating, healing, and restoring. The blind man does the work of receiving, going, washing, and seeing. And if you keep reading through the rest of Jn. 9 – which I strongly encourage you do – the now-seeing man does the work of believing, confessing, and worshiping (Jn. 9:35-38; cf. Jn. 6:29). But notice that all of the man’s works are a direct result of Christ shining into his darkness. And that, dear saints, is exactly how He still works in you.

Jesus, the Light of the World, has swallowed the darkness and buried it in His now, and forever, empty tomb. Christ’s light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not, and will not ever, overcome it (Jn. 1:5). Jesus is still in the world. He promises to be with you always, to the end of the age (Mt. 28:20). He remains in the world now as the unconquerable Light of the World (Jn. 9:5). Live in His light. Let His glory shine into and through you. And watch the darkness flee. Amen.

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