Living Thankfully

           The appointed Gospel lesson for Thanksgiving has the tendency to make people feel a little uneasy. It is the story of the ten lepers who were healed by Jesus, and you may recall that only one returned to say “thank you” to Him. This story makes us uncomfortable because we know how often we resemble the nine who did not express their thankfulness to Christ. Commentators have suggested all kinds of reasons why these people would’ve hurried off, but the fact remains, they didn’t say “thank you” to the One who had given them a new life.

           

            So, how thankful are you for your new life? How thankful are you for Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross? How thankful are you for the countless little gifts your heavenly Father places in your path each day? When was the last time you returned to give God thanks from your heart? Or, like the nine healed lepers, are you convinced you’ve got some good reasons to hurry off right now, and maybe later, when things let up, you’ll get around to some thanks-giving?

 

            Living thankfully goes against our human nature. (Just try to teach a child to say “thank you” consistently.) But the good news is that Jesus took our selfishness and nailed it to the cross. He paid for our self-centeredness with his blood. In the shadow of the cross there is no room for thanklessness. There is only the overwhelming generosity of God, poured out for you, purchased at great price. May the Holy Spirit, who points us to Jesus’ cross, cause us to live in the humble joyousness of gratitude.

Chicken Little Christianity

“There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars. On the earth, nations will be in anguish and perplexity at the roaring and tossing of the sea. Men will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken. At that time they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” Luke 21: 25—28

 

            The Disney version of Chicken Little was released in 2005. The movie told the story of Chicken Little’ dilemma—how do you get others to listen to you when you’ve warned them of doom and gloom and then nothing happens? Chicken Little’s word didn’t mean much after that—so when the aliens show up (remember, this is the Disney version), no one is convinced that he’s telling the truth—until it’s too late.

            We have reached a point in our church year where traditionally we talk about the end of the world. At the end of the church year, we talk about the end times. Makes sense. But I have to admit that when I see these kind of Bible passages, I wonder, “Are people going to listen to this? Does anyone really buy into the idea that this world is going to have an endpoint? When it comes to end times stuff, has the Church’s message become like Chicken Little?

            I’m afraid so. At least in the eyes of unbelievers, warnings of the end inspire more eye-rolling than anything else. When preachers insist that Jesus is definitely coming back in our lifetime because of things like tsunamis or hurricanes or wildfires or  situations in Iraq or Pakistan, the Church’s message becomes a Chicken Little message. A generation comes and goes, the end does not come, and since it was a Christian predicting this or that date, a skeptical world thinks that all Christians are convinced that the sky is falling. Since it hasn’t yet, the real Christian message—the message that centers on Jesus Christ—is dismissed. Christians are painted as half-wits and wacko fundamentalists, and the saving Word of Christ crucified never has a chance to be heard.

            That’s bad enough. But within the believing Church there is still a part of us that wants to dismiss “fire and brimstone” preaching with a wink and a chuckle. There is a part of us that has fallen in love with life in this world, even though we publicly confess in our creed: “I look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come.” Or we might take the stance that it’s just easier not to think about it. That would be nice, but it would be a mistake. It would be a mistake because Jesus spent so much time teaching about the signs of the end and what it all means for us who follow him.

            So what did Jesus teach? We have big chunk of it in today’s Gospel lesson. He wasn’t fooling around when he told his disciples about the end of Jerusalem. This is graphically described in verses 20—24.  Many people who heard his words were still living when the city (including the Temple) was completely destroyed in 70 A.D. What sets Jesus apart from Chicken Little prophets is that His predictions actually happen, for His Word is truth.

            That’s why we must pay attention to what Jesus says next. He speaks vividly about the laws of nature being shaken as God begins to withdraw his patience from the human race. This will be more than the wars and natural disasters that are already plaguing God’s creation. The sun, moon, and stars will be affected as the universe begins to come unglued. We already know that the moon exerts gravitational force upon the earth, and that it controls the tides on the coasts. So imagine if the moon was thrown off its orbit! It sounds like science fiction! How long can the Church proclaim such things before no one listens anymore--before the Church’s message is taken no more seriously than Chicken Little? And yet, and yet, the Holy Spirit enters our hearts through his Word and convinces us that Jesus is the Son of God; is our Savior from sin and hell; is our Lord; is our teacher of the truth: and this is what he says about the end of this world. So he means it when he says that entire nations will be shaking in fear.  He means it when he says that people will be fainting with fear and intense apprehension He means it when he says the heavenly bodies will be shaken, and he means it when he says that He, the Son of Man, will be seen coming in a cloud with power and great glory. And there is the good news in all this apocalyptic chaos: These fearsome signs signal the visible return of Christ. Those who are alive at this time in history, who have been waiting for Jesus with faith in their hearts, are told: “When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.”

            What will that feel like for the faithful? The prophet Malachi says: “..for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its wings. And you will go out and leap like calves released from the stall.”

            “Stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.” The redemption that Jesus talks about here is not redemption from hell. You already have been purchased by Jesus’ passion, death and resurrection. You have already been bought by His blood. You have already been adopted in baptism.

            The redemption that will be drawing near is release from the consequences of sin that remain with us. Think of it this way: You now have the forgiveness of sins. You now are the recipient of God’s undeserved kindness and the gift of faith. You now have the promise of heavenly life that never ends. You have these things already through Christ Jesus who comes to us and is present with us today. But we still wait for the perfection that will only come when our souls are delivered from this world. In the meantime—in the between-time—we deal with the consequences of sin—of our own sin and the sinful choices of others. Those consequences include, but are hardly limited to, sickness and disease; mental, emotional, physical and spiritual struggle; the pain of broken relationships and families; and finally, death and its ripple effects of grief and lonliness. We are conceived and born in sin, and our bodies must return to dust.

            But be certain; be convinced, my Christian friends, that your redemption from these things is drawing near. The same Jesus who was crucified and died for your sins and rose again to conquer your death will return on a cloud as your Redeemer. Now, redeemer is one of those words we need to unpack for a minute. A redeemer is a person who rescues another by paying a ransom. The ransom Jesus paid for your sin was his own precious blood and his innocent suffering and death, and with that ransom payment your account is credited for heaven. When Jesus descends to earth amidst this world’s last violent gasps, he will redeem you from the power of sin’s consequences. That means no more sadness. No more brokenness. No more suffering. No more isolation. No more pain. No more hatred. No more death.

            Until that great day, the Church will continue to broadcast the Bible’s simple invitation: Repent. Change. Turn around. Come close to God. Feel terror at your sins. Mourn the wrong you’ve done. Give up your self-reliant ideas. Your sins are forgiven thanks to the sacrifice made by Jesus, the Son of God. Heaven is yours, thanks to his rising from the dead on Easter Day. Trust in his actions. Be baptized for the forgiveness of your sins and the gift of the Holy Spirit. And if the sea roars and tosses and the heavenly bodies shake, and you see Jesus coming down on a cloud; you can stand with your head raised to the sky, welcoming your Redeemer.

           

            May the prayer of God’s faithful always be: Come, Lord Jesus.

Standing on Holy Ground

“Take off your sandals, for the place that you are standing is holy ground.” Exodus 3: 5

It’s been a busy day, a full day, lots of running around and now you’re finally at home. It’s time to kick back, relax, and part of the routine of letting yourself wind down, as simple as it sounds, is kicking off those shoes.

And what I find a little intriguing is when you are invited over to someone else’s home, there’s always a little shoe protocol. Some people want you to take off your shoes in the mud room or garage—others don’t seem to care that you just walked through a mud puddle. At the places where you’re asked to remove your footwear, you can usually see why: the house is kept in wonderful condition. It looks special, and you can immediately understand why you were asked to leave your shoes behind.

It may sound weird, but the same thing is happening in Exodus 3. The burning bush incident takes place here. The Lord wanted Moses’ attention and he got it. If you know your Bible history, you know this is the start of something huge. But in the moment it is happening, all Moses knows is that he sees a burning bush that is not burning up and he goes over to investigate. Then he hears his name being spoken, and then this request: “Do not come any closer,” God said. “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.” On this holy ground, the Almighty God identifies himself, promises to rescue his suffering people, tells Moses, “I’ve got a job for you,” and promises to be with Moses as he does it. Moses’ life has been changed on this holy ground.

When you came to worship, what were your expectations? Did you come not really expecting anything to happen? Did you come because somebody else expects you to? Did you prepare for this experience? Or is this just one of many other places you go; another spot to hit on a busy social and personal calendar? Or maybe, just maybe, did you come here [today] sensing that you were approaching holy ground? Did you come hungry for the true, real, close presence of God? Did you come thirsting for living water and the fiery power of the Holy Spirit? Do you believe that this is a sacred, holy time, during which Jesus speaks to you through the words of the Bible? Is the experience of worship special, holy ground for you?

We fight an uphill battle for time spent on holy ground. So-called conventional wisdom says, “Nothing is sacred.” Entertainers and authors gain notoriety by attacking the holy things of the Christian faith. Closer to home, time spent on holy ground sometimes takes a back seat to other concerns—and, when we do make it onto holy ground we fight a mental and spiritual battle to stay plugged in and concentrate! However, none of that changes the fact that God Himself is present when His people gather to listen to His Word and be fed at His table. It’s holy ground because the Lord is here. That’s what Moses learned, and we need to re-learn it, if our time spent on holy ground is going to benefit us. And it all starts by taking off your sandals.

When you’re barefoot, you’re vulnerable. Even with socks on, it’s not the same. You’re exposed. When we approach God’s holy ground, we take off our sandals--we become vulnerable as we expose our sin and confess it before the Lord. Think about it. That’s one of the first things we do in worship. You confess, hopefully with great seriousness, that you are by nature sinful and unclean…that you have sinned against God in thought, word and deed…and you sincerely repent of the wrong that you have done. You admit the sins that peek out of your conscience. You buck the trend of human nature that places the blame on everyone and everything else and you say, in the presence of God, the blame is mine. The sandals are removed, and if you mean what you say and say what you mean as you confess your sins, it’s a humbling thing. I can’t think of another place, group, or organization that asks its members to be as nakedly honest as we are when we take off our sandals in open confession together.

But rather than burn us up in his righteous fire, God tells us who He is on his holy ground. He is the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He calls himself, “I AM WHO I AM”. He further tells us He is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. And He is not here to kill, but to give life. He is here to rescue us and take us to a better place. That rescue comes through Jesus’ death on the cross and his resurrection and was transmitted to you when you were baptized in His very name; it continues to be sent to you every time you eat and drink at the Lord’s Table. That happens again when a called and ordained servant of the Word says: “I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” It comes yet again when one believer says to another, “I forgive you.” God knows our private miseries and our suffering, and here on holy ground he promises you rescue from sin’s slavery. He promises deliverance to a land flowing with milk and honey—not just the paradise of a future in heaven—but the joy of living in his kingdom right now—the freedom of living as a forgiven person—the confidence of living for a King who has everything under control. Here on holy ground, God not only promises, but delivers. He delivers the goods to you, bought and paid for by Jesus Christ.

There is one more way in which we stand next to Moses. After the sandals are removed, and God identifies himself, and tells of the rescue he will perform, he says, “So now, go, I am sending you…” For Moses that meant being sent back to Egypt, to stand before Pharoah and to speak for God. For you, that means being sent to your homes; your places of business; your circle of friends; if you are a student or teacher, that means being sent to your school; you are being sent to each and every place where you live your life to speak for God and live out his message of rescue and deliverance. Standing next to Moses you may wonder, as he did, “Who am I, that I should go?” “Who am I, that I should represent Christ to my family and friends? Who am I that I should show Jesus to the people I work with?”
God’s response to Moses and you? “I will be with you.” It’s almost as if God is saying, “Look, it’s not about you, it’s about me. It is my desire to use you. I want to send you. I will be with you. So don’t focus on you, focus on me, and let’s go.” At another great moment of sending, God said the very same thing in Jesus: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to observe everything I have commanded you. And I will be with you always, to the very end of the age.” Standing on holy ground, God says to you and me, “I will be with you as you go for me and serve me.” And Jesus will be with you, and not just in some vaguely spiritual, invisible way, but he will be with you every time you open a Bible and read his Word, or hear it, or study it. He will be with you when you remember your baptismal connection to his death and risen life. He will be with you, always setting a place for you at his table. He will be with you in the compassion and concern of a fellow believer. He will be with you in tangible ways every time you set foot on holy ground, and will stay with you as you return to living room and classroom, board room and garage, office, hospital and care facility. Soon we’ll step back into those places with feet that have stepped on holy ground, and hearts that have been changed by a gracious God. But for the few minutes that we have left, let’s leave our sandals off, just a little longer, in the presence of the great I AM, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Spoiler Alert

If you like to read movie reviews, then you probably know what a Spoiler Alert is about. A spoiler alert is when a reviewer reveals a film’s crucial plot point, probably a twist ending, in their review, and if you read it before you see the movie, it would spoil the element of surprise for you. Thus, the reviewer notifies the reader with a Spoiler Alert, giving the reader the chance to stop reading before they spoil it for themselves. Or, you can keep reading if you can’t wait to find out how the story ends.
As we consider God’s Word to us on this Festival of All Saints, then, I need to issue this Spoiler Alert. Today, Holy Scripture is going to reveal how your story ends. It will tell how the story ends for everyone who has been cleansed by the blood of the Lamb, Jesus Christ. I don’t know about you, but I think I’ve read every Spoiler Alert I’ve ever seen, and I would recommend we definitely go ahead and read this one, too. It is not there for us to ignore. It is there to encourage us. It is there to inspire confidence in us. So let’s take a look at the final scene of our story—our story made real through Jesus, our Lord.
The great vision of John we know as Revelation is filled with bizarre imagery, Hebraic number symbolism and repeated references to the Old Testament. It certainly must be the most controversial book in the Bible. For such reasons, many Christians want to leave the book of Revelation alone. They’d rather not read the Spoiler Alert, because it all sounds too weird and scary. But we dare not shut the door on this book. Believe it or not, there are scenes of astounding beauty to be found in Revelation. Our First Reading for this All Saints’ Day is one of them. It is a vision of the saints in triumph—a picture of heaven itself. Like the hymn we began with, it asks us to behold a host arrayed in white—a crowd of people so big that it is uncountable. The people in this vision are wearing white robes and are holding palm branches in their hands. They are Christian people who have been Oxycleaned in the blood of the Lamb, Jesus Christ. They are wearing the robe of holiness that was draped over them at their baptism. And they are holding palm branches in hand—that gesture of praise happened on earth, too, remember? Back then it was welcoming the Savior to his holy city—the city where his mission would be completed; here in Revelation the saints are welcoming Jesus home. And this is their shout of praise: We are saved by our God who sits on the throne and by the Lamb!” Here’s the Spoiler Alert! Because Jesus became fully human, lived His Law perfectly and then gave His life as a perfect offering, you will be one of those white-robed worshippers. The book of Revelation sends the clear message: be faithful unto death, and this is what you have to look forward to: you will see Jesus in person, the Lamb of God who took away the sins of the world. You will worship Him with the entire number of believers from all time and place. You will serve the Lord in perfect happiness. You will want for nothing and will lack nothing. Well, that’s not entirely true. You will lack sorrow. You will lack grief. You will lack pain and suffering. You will lack sadness, disappointment, worry and fear. Those things you will lack. Those things will be lost forever as you look at the face of your Savior Jesus, the Shepherd and the Lamb, the Alpha and Omega, Your King and your brother. It will finally be Him. Jesus. He’s bringing you there. He put the white clothes—or is the right clothes on you. He put the song of faith in your heart. He will bring you over the canyon of death on the bridge of his cross into a scene just like this great celebration in Revelation.
That’s the Spoiler Alert. This is how your story ends, but as you can see, it’s really not an ending at all. Knowing that this is God’s promise to you ought to totally change the way your life gets lived. But does it?
All too often, I’m afraid that we are so distracted by life in this world that we don’t give much thought to life with Christ that never ends. The cares and concerns that trouble us get right up in our faces, so that we can’t see past them. The idea of heaven is pleasant, but distant. It isn’t until we come face to face with death that these promises start to really break through to us.
It might also be that, for as much time as we’ve spent in church, we’re still not all that clear about how you end up in heaven. We sit here observing an All Saint’s Day, but we wear the “saint” title awkwardly, if we claim it at all. It is time to change that. You need to realize that yes, indeed, you are one of God’s saints. Why? Because that’s what God says you are.
That’s what he calls those whom he has chosen and adopted in Baptism and washed clean in the blood of the Lamb. The apostle Paul also does it on numerous occasions. He calls the members of the congregations he wrote to “saints”-- which was kind of strange, considering he was usually writing to them to tell them to get their act together. But that’s the tension in which we live. We know we don’t deserve to be called saints. We don’t deserve to be called children of God. We know that when it comes to being holy, well, that’s a joke, right? We know that if a judge and jury were ever to sift through the evidence of our lives, they would be able to come up with incident after incident that would disqualify us from saintly status.
Despite our ideas and doubts about sainthood, God looks at Jesus’ cross and empty tomb, then looks at us and because of what Jesus did, he names us saints. So that’s what we must be. Just as he calls ordinary bread and wine his own body and blood; just as he calls a bit of water with his name “a washing of rebirth and renewal,” if God calls us saints, we’re saints, through Jesus Christ our Lord. If God can name the day day and night, night, then He can call us saints through the shed blood and risen life of Jesus. Are you going to tell God he’s wrong? That he’s made a mistake? “Not me, Lord, no, I’m not a saint.” God hears that and says, “Hey, listen, being a saint is not up to you! Because of what my Son did, I can and will say to you that in my eyes, you are a saint. You are someone for whom my Son was rejected and beaten and killed. Being called a saint isn’t an achievement; it’s a gift. Receive it and wear your white robe well.
Take this good news to heart: God considers you a saint, because the death and resurrection of his Son Jesus has been applied to you. Despite everything the devil and the world will throw at you in this life, you have heard and believed the Spoiler Alert that promises final and absolute victory in Jesus Christ! We are saved by our God who sits on the throne and by the Lamb. May God, in His grace, work through you and me to add more and more souls to that heavenly crowd of saints; in Jesus’ name.

A Living Reformation

Getting ready for Reformation Sunday, I started to daydream about what it would be like to meet someone who lived at the time of Luther's ministry. The rest, as they say, is history...

By some wrinkle in time I find myself in your midst today, and I am delighted and amazed to see you celebrating a Day of Reformation! It is incredible to find myself here in a church that calls itself Lutheran. You see, I was born in 1490 AD, and Martin Luther was my pastor.
I was born and grew up in the north-central part of Germany, in a town called Wittenburg. There weren’t many more than 2,000 people living there at the time, though that would change. My family scratched out a living. My father worked for the local brewery, and most of what was brewed stayed in town. I wish I could tell you something romantic about life back then, but I can’t. Existence was hard, sometimes brutal, often short.
Death haunted Europe in our time. The Plague, which is just a history book story to you, was a real thing to us. 16,000 people died in the city of Strasbourg in one year’s time. 300 villages in the region around this city were left deserted. More babies died than survived after childbirth. Beggars and panhandlers were everywhere, not to mention thieves and swindlers. We German peasants were far from being peaceful workers of the land. We tended to solve a lot of things with fists, knives, and clubs. It’s a wonder I lived as long as I did.
Having said all that, the Church was an ever-present part of life, even in Wittenburg. On our town square sat the city church and the Castle Church was a few blocks away. An Augustinian monastery and a small university were there, too. I was baptized the same day I was born, because my survival was not guaranteed. I made it, though, and grew up like so many others in our little town, aware of the great importance of the Church, but with very little understanding of basic Christianity. I know how strange this must sound to you, but back then, we simply did what the Church told us to do. The idea of picking up a Bible and reading what it said wasn’t even a thought that we had. We believed what the priests told us, without question. Of course, no one wanted to suffer the torments of hell. So we did as we were told. And what we were told was this: We were told that all people have a little spark of good inside them. God gives you some grace to get things going, and then it’s up to you to make your salvation sure by doing enough good in the world. I suppose another way of saying it is: we were taught that we could earn the grace of God by doing our best. So that’s what we did.
That meant doing our best for our beloved dead. The Church had told us of a place called purgatory, a kind of holding tank for the souls of our departed loved ones. Their souls stayed there for thousands upon thousands of years, unless we did something about it. And we did our best. We spent more money than we should have buying certificates called indulgences, which promised that our loved ones would escape purgatory more quickly and be in heaven sooner. Please understand, we were just doing what we were told. We truly didn’t know better.
Well, what can I say…in 1511, when I was 21 years old, a monk named Martin Luther was sent to Wittenburg to begin teaching at the university and preaching at the Castle Church in my town. This was news, but not big news. Everyone thought he had come to ask for more money to be sent to Rome. Were we wrong.
At first, Dr. Luther’s preaching was not all that different than what we had heard before. But it seemed that the longer he stayed in Wittenburg; and the longer he studied and taught at the university, the more his messages changed. We started hearing more and more about Christ Jesus. For Dr. Luther, everything came right back to Christ. But this was a different Jesus than we were used to—we were used to Jesus the Righteous Judge, Jesus the Perfect Example of what we were to strive to be. The Jesus that Dr. Luther preached was different—he showed us Jesus our Savior; Jesus our loving sacrifice for sins; Jesus our peace. At first this was hard to understand because it was so different than anything we had heard before. But then one day Dr. Luther read to us a passage from Romans that said: “This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.” I’ll never forget the way Dr. Luther explained that passage. He said, “If some complaint should be registered against a heart that believes in Christ, and testify against it concerning some evil deed, then the heart turns itself away, and turns to Christ, and says, ‘But he made satisfaction. He is the righteous one, and this is my defense. He died for me, he made his righteousness mine and made my sin his own; and if he made my sin his own, then I do not have it, and I am free.’ ”
This, I had never heard before. It seemed too good to be true. I struggled to grasp what Dr. Luther was saying. I wanted very much for such words to be true for me, but I could not escape feeling not good enough. I felt my sins surely had disqualified me from God’s favor. I approached Dr. Luther one evening about five years after he had come to Wittenburg, and I poured out my heart to him, confessing my guilt, my sinful acts. He looked me right in the eye, with a look of great compassion, and told me, “Learn Christ and him crucified; despairing of yourself, learn to pray to him, saying, “You, Lord Jesus are my righteousness, but I am your sin; you have taken on yourself what you were not and have given me what I was not.” I prayed that prayer for the rest of my life.
When I was 27 years old, Dr. Luther began publicly asking questions about the sale of indulgences. On October 31, 1517, he posted his 95 theses against the sale of indulgences on the door of our church. His life would never be the same. Neither would my life, nor Wittenburg’s, nor, dare I say, would the world ever be the same. Maybe you know the story of how Dr. Luther was declared a heretic, how he went into hiding, how he came back to Wittenburg to preach and teach again. Maybe you know about his writings, such as the Small Catechism; maybe you have sung his hymns, like “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God.” And perhaps you know about the protection the German princes gave his fellow pastors when they made their statement of faith at Augsburg. You may even know how many millions of people worship in churches that were part of the Reformation that accompanied and followed Dr. Luther’s work. Whether or not you know about those things, here’s what I know.
Dr. Luther was my pastor. If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve bought indulgences for my loved ones until the day I died, and then hoped that they would buy them for me. If it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve never had a Bible in my own mother tongue—the Scriptures in the German language! And if it hadn’t been for him, I would’ve never known Jesus Christ the way the Bible describes Him—not as a frowning judge but as a loving brother, who went even to the cross to purchase my soul. It was also Dr. Luther who taught me that being a good husband and father and doing my job well honored God as much as a priest or pastor honored God with their duties. Was Dr. Luther a perfect man? He’d be the first to emphatically tell you “No.” But he was my pastor. He showed me who Jesus really was. I am eternally grateful.
That’s my story, part of it, at least. But before I go, I’m fascinated to ask you brothers and sisters who bear the Lutheran name, what is it like? What is it like to live free from the ignorance that held people like me captive? What is it like to have the Bible so easily accessible—right in your own language, available everywhere? What is it like to have Jesus Christ clearly and rightly proclaimed in pulpit and classroom and home? Certainly the good news of Christ crucified and risen is still reforming the Church and the world, isn’t it? Please tell me it is. Please tell me you are running to your world with Jesus’ own words: “If the Son sets you free, you are free indeed.” Please tell me you are letting Jesus’ Words reform you.

To learn more about Martin Luther, I strongly recommend the book "Luther the Reformer" by James Kittleson.

Their Angels See the Father's Face

When was the last time you thought about angels—I mean, really thought about them? There are many things that can trigger your imagination when it comes to angels; I’m sure some of you remember the TV series “Touched By An Angel;” or the character of Clarence from the film “It’s A Wonderful Life;” or the many pieces of art that depict one or two children walking through the dark woods with a beautiful angel shielding them. In today’s Gospel Lesson, Jesus made a fascinating reference to angels. Did you catch it? He said, “See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.” The phrase “their angels” makes the ministry of angels personal. Children have angels watching them—Jesus just said so. This is truly some supernatural stuff that He’s talking about.

But why was He talking about it? Jesus mentions the angels at the end of a conversation about human greatness. The conversation begins with a question: “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” This question had caused quite an argument among Jesus’ disciples. And in truth it is a question that bothers us deeply, spinning off other questions like: Who is successful? Who has more power? Who gets the spotlight? Who gets the credit? Many of us right now might be in a power struggle somewhere in our lives, with these sort of questions at the heart of it.

In his book “Counterfeit Gods,” Timothy Keller has an entire chapter on the idols of power and glory. There he reaches back to the Garden of Eden to say that Adam and Eve were led to resent the limits God had put on their power, and sought to be like God by taking control of their own destiny. Keller writes: “We gave in to this temptation and it is now a part of our nature. Rather than accept our dependence on God, we desperately seek ways to assure ourselves that we still have power over our own lives. But this is an illusion.”

It is an illusion, and eventually, the longing for power will disappoint, as will every idol that you let shape your life. A few years ago, NFL quarterback Tom Brady gave a 60 Minutes interview. At one point, Brady said, “Why do I have three Super Bowl rings and still think there’s something greater out there for me? There’s gotta be more than this.” The interviewer then asked, “What’s the answer?” To which Brady replied, “I wish I knew. I wish I knew.”There is something more than the worldly idol of greatness. It begins with becoming like a child.

As a living object lesson, Jesus put a little child right in front of his disciples as an example of true greatness in His Kingdom. What makes the child so great? A child is dependent. A child is in the protective care and control of their parents. A child must trust his parents for everything. The right response of a child to a parent is obedience. The look down to a child is meant to shrink our egos and put us in right alignment with God.

Jesus himself would be totally dependent and obedient to His Father. He leaned on His Father in prayer. He was never far from His Father’s presence, words, or heart. And as he died for the sins of the whole world, even for yours and mine—he whispered a prayer, “Into your hands, Father, I commit my spirit.” You and I are called to trust, that, in grace, He has provided everything necessary for new and eternal life. You can put all your weight on Jesus for everlasting life and for the grace that’s needed for daily living. In fact, there’s no other way to receive God’s gifts than to become like child, to shrink your ego, and let Him give to you.

Now if Jesus has his disciples look down to a child to see what greatness really is, He also has them look up to “their angels.” Jesus is saying, “Don’t be fooled by the size of these little ones. Don’t be fooled by their lowly status. These children have mighty angels behind them, who come from the presence of the Heavenly Father.”

Today is St. Michael and All Angels Day, and on this day in the church year we remember the victory of the archangel Michael and the good angels over Satan and his evil forces, which is recorded in Revelation 12: 7—9 . Satan and his demons were hurled out of heaven, eager to lead the world astray. One thing that tells us is that angels are not just little Cupid-y cherubs floating around with harps, but they serve as warriors of the almighty God. They also serve as messengers, such as Gabriel in Luke 1 carrying news to Mary that she will be the mother of the Christ. We celebrate the work of angels that continues to this day; angels that are sent to guard and protect God’s people as described in Psalm 91; angels that are sent to serve in times of dire need, such as their service to Jesus in times of temptation and in Gethsemane; angels that still intervene in miraculous ways today. Just get a group of Christian people together sometime, and if they’re comfortable enough with each other, ask them if they or someone they know has had an encounter with an angelic being. I’ve had people share some experiences with me that would give you goosebumps, like the WWII veteran who was shielded in combat by a tall man dressed in transparent clothing. It should come as no surprise to us that angels are active—the Bible tells us so—but there is still that surge of excitement when we are reminded of their reality.

 Jesus is saying that God’s little ones, the ones who depend on Him for all things, have a greatness beyond what the eye can see. They have angels on their side. Yet even the angels’ awesome powers are dwarfed by the splendor of the Father’s face.  Jesus trumps our desire for power by pointing us to a child. Jesus trumps our desire for glory by pointing us to angels and to God the Father.

The world will teach you that getting power and glory for yourself is what matters. But these are harsh false gods that demand far more than they give. What’s more, hunger for power and self-glorification must be abandoned if we want to have a place in the kingdom of God.

Jesus, on the other hand teaches you that a childlike dependence on God is what matters. We are to let the ego shrink. We are to drop the “God owes me” attitude. We are to let God give to us what only He can give: complete forgiveness of sins; status as a son or daughter of the King; the protection of His angel guard. We are to obey Him, trusting that our Father knows what is best for us, and, more than that, all of his creative power stands ready to help and defend us. Your angels see the Father, and the Father sees you. You have nothing to fear.


Portions adapted from a sermon by Dean Nadasdy in Concordia Pulpit Resources

God and Money

“No servant can serve two masters. Either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and Money.” Luke 16: 13

Pastor Brown was going about his Monday morning routine when the phone rang. It was loyal church member, Agatha Longtimer. The conversation began pleasantly enough, with Pastor asking Agatha about the green bean casserole she had brought to the last potluck.
“Could my wife get the recipe for that?” he asked.
“Oh, that was just something I threw together at the last minute,” Agatha said.
“I sure liked it,” Pastor said.
“Well, thank you.” The line was quiet for a few moments. “Pastor, I wanted to ask you something.”
Pastor Brown took a deep breath and said, “OK.”
Agatha continued, “I was confused by the gospel lesson yesterday. You know, that one about that manager. It sounded to me like Jesus said it was okay for him to be dishonest.”
“Well, I can see that,” the Pastor said. “It is kind of an unusual story. But the point of the whole thing is not so much that it’s OK to be dishonest, but that we ought to be wise with our money.”
“Hmm,” said Agatha. “But that manager didn’t tell the truth! Is that any example to follow?”
“No, of course not,” said Pastor Brown. “Jesus’ point is that the manager was smart, in that he used money to make friends, since he had just gotten fired. Those friends might come in handy, now that he was unemployed. Even his former boss had to agree that was a shrewd move.”
“OK,” said Agatha, not sounding all that convinced.
“But remember how Jesus wrapped up the story?” the pastor asked. “He said, “Use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves.” He also said, “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much.” This whole discussion is really about how we use our money.”
Agatha said, “Well, I know Christ ends up saying, “You cannot serve both God and Money.”
“Exactly,” said Pastor Brown, “and I think Jesus is asking some hard hitting questions of us. Are we wise in how we use our finances for the sake of God’s kingdom? Do we use our money to “gain friends,” so that the good news of Jesus is heard? Do we even think of using our money that way? I think Jesus might have some serious issues with the way his modern disciples are using money.”
There was silence on the line for a few seconds. Then Agatha spoke.
“Pastor, why didn’t you preach on this reading yesterday?”
Now it was Pastor Brown’s turn to be quiet. Finally he said, ‘Well, Agatha, you know no one wants to hear another stewardship sermon. It turns people off. Did I tell you the story about my cousin? He and his wife were church-shopping, and the first church they went to, it was Stewardship Sunday, and the sermon was all about what you ought to give to the church. So they decided to try a different church the next Sunday, and guess what? It was Stewardship Sunday there too, and they quickly got the impression: the church just wants our money. So now they don’t go anywhere.” Pastor Brown paused. “I guess I do tend to shy away from talking about money from the pulpit,” he said. “I just don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea, like I’m some kind of televangelist or something.”
“Oh, no one’s going to think THAT,” Agatha said. Pastor Brown wasn’t quite sure how to take her comment. She continued, “I think people need to hear it. If the Bible has something to say about money, tell us what it says! Why should we pretend it’s not part of our life with God?”
“You’re right, Agatha, in fact, did you know that if you total up all the quotes of Jesus from the gospels, do you know what he talks about the most in his teachings?”
“Let me guess, Pastor. Money.”
“Bingo. No pun intended. He talks about the proper use of money. Over and over Jesus says that how we use money is a direct reflection of our faith. He also points out that money and possessions, the stuff that we love so much, can quickly become a god of its own, like in yesterday’s reading, “You cannot serve both God and Money.”
“That’s true,” said Agatha. “Just look at all the foreclosures happening—little mansions sitting empty because people thought they had to have the biggest and best. Where are they now?”
“I know,” said Pastor. “But we have to be careful, in thinking that the problem is all out there. We have to ask ourselves if we’re being wise in our spending for the sake of the gospel. I mean, think of all the creature comforts we enjoy. Do you have cable?”
“Ah, satellite, actually,” Agatha said.
“Oh, good for you!” Pastor Brown thought, “Wow! Sounds nice,” but didn’t say it. “What package do you get, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Oh the premium, but I don’t know why. There’s never anything good on anyway.”
“Well, since that’s the case, have you ever though about dropping down a tier? Think of the money you’d save in a year’s time. And think of what you could do with that money for the sake of the gospel! I’m sure there’s some mission organization that you know about that could really use it. Or what if you dropped just one magazine subscription, and used that money to help fund a student’s tuition in a Christian school?”
“This may sound strange, Pastor, but I never thought of that before.”
“Well those are just couple ideas, and they don’t even really get at the heart of faithful giving.”
“What do you mean, Pastor?”
“I mean, we should not be giving God our leftovers. I just heard a presentation on the prophet Malachi that got right at the heart of giving. You know, back then, God expected his people to bring the very best as offerings. He expected them to bring the best and healthiest animals. But do you know what they were bringing? Blind, diseased, and crippled goats. The leftovers. What do you think God thought of that?”
“I can’t imagine he appreciated that very much,” Agatha said.
“You’re right,” said Pastor Brown. “But we’ve all done it, at one time or another. We bring God our blind goat and keep the healthy one for ourselves. We give God the leftovers and act as if we’ve done Him a favor. I confess I’ve done it myself.”
Another pause, and Agatha then said, quietly, “So have I, Pastor.” She took a deep breath. “But times are tough for a lot of people.”
“Believe me, I know that’s true, Agatha. But here’s the thing: in Malachi and elsewhere, God says, “Test me. Try it. Give me your best, and just see if your needs are not met.” It’s almost like he’s saying, “I dare you to try to outgive me.” Wait, here’s the verse, “Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse…Test me in this…and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.”
“Pastor Brown let those words hang in the air.
“That takes a lot of faith,” Agatha said.
“It does,” the pastor said, “but it’s more about thankfulness.”
“By the way, Pastor, what about the tithe? Are we bound to that?”
“I’d ask a different question, actually. Are we limited by ten percent? The answer to both questions is no. St. Paul wrote that we are free to give what we think is appropriate, after giving honest consideration to what Jesus has given us by his passion, death on the cross, and resurrection.”
“Well, when I think of it that way, I want to give him everything!” Agatha said.
“Now you’re onto something,” Pastor Brown said.
“But there are practical considerations…”Agatha replied.
“I know there are,” the pastor said. “God’s not asking you to bankrupt yourself. Just remember the great sacrifice he made for you and respond by giving what you think is right. Test him and see what happens when you give freely. Try it out and see if you lack anything when you give generously back to the Lord.”
Agatha was silent. Pastor Brown could hear the smile in her voice when she finally said, “I still think you should have preached about this yesterday.”
“Don’t worry, Agatha. You’ve helped me to see that I should, and I will, very soon. Now about that casserole recipe…”

Your Host Will Seat You

Have you ever sat in the wrong seats at a ticketed event, like a sporting event or a play? That can be embarrassing, especially when you think, “Wow, we really got good seats,” and then an usher appears, asking to check your ticket, and then you have to move to seats that are less than ideal. That can be really awkward. A lot of times, those mistakes are unintentional, but they are still embarrassing nonetheless.
What would be worse would be going to a dinner or banquet and, even though you are not the guest of honor, or a member of the wedding party, you decide to sit at the head table. Then the host would have to come over and ask you to move. Everyone would feel uncomfortable. Someone who knows you well enough might ask you, “What were you thinking?”
Jesus describes a similar scenario in today’s Gospel lesson, and he offers what, at first, just seems like good social advice—proper etiquette, if you will. When you show up at a wedding banquet, Jesus says, take a lesser seat, and let the host decide where you belong. Makes sense. You’ll certainly avoid the embarrassing scene of being asked to move. And you just might enjoy the honor of having the host say, “Move up to a better place.”
What I would suggest to you today is that this story is more than just a lesson in manners. If we look closely, we will see Jesus highlighting a fundamental attitude he wants us to have. That attitude is humility.
Humility is a peculiar virtue and is easily misunderstood. The author and performer Garrison Keillor has gotten a lot of mileage out of describing the extreme humility of the people of the Upper Midwest., where folks are brought up to be deeply mistrustful of any compliments, to the point that they don’t believe they have any good qualities at all! But humility is not self-hatred. At the other end of the spectrum are those who are well acquainted with the language of humility, but don’t believe a word of it. When they say, “It was nothing,” they really mean, “I was awesome, wasn’t I?” It turns out, false humility is just pride in disguise.
Now we have named the real enemy: pride. “Where should I sit at the banquet” is really a question of pride. How important do I think I am, really? What do I think I deserve? These are important questions to consider, not just when it comes to choosing a table at the next wedding you go to, but in all of life, including how you relate to God Himself.
Here’s what I mean: we are tempted to seat ourselves at God’s best table based on us; on what we do. We perceive that our kindness toward others, or our link to a church, or our belief that we are really being obedient to God means that we deserve a plum position of some sort. These attempts at self-glorifying seem appropriate, because we are constantly told that hard work will get you moving up the ladder. You deserve good things because you’re a good person. Ok, you’re not always good, but you’re not as bad as the people sitting next to you. Pride plants the idea in my heart that God owes me something. Pride says that what matters most is what I want. But Jesus is saying that if you bring a prideful attitude into His kingdom, the least that’s going to happen is that you’ll end up embarrassed. The reality is that pride is a far more serious threat to faith. Not surprising, then, that pride takes a beating in Holy Scripture.
Listen to these passages that leave no room for pride in the Christian heart: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3: 23). “All who rely on works of the law are under a curse (Galatians 3: 10). “We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment (Isaiah 64: 6). We cannot barge into God’s banquet and demand a seat based on our best performance. God will not allow it. So where does that leave us? Embarrassed and awkward? Maybe. Recognizing our sin can make us feel that way. But when you confess those sins and own up to them, you are voluntarily taking the lesser seat. When you finally see how helpless sin makes you, you are beginning to understand real humility. And when you come in humility to the feast of God, you will let the host seat you wherever he wants to. That is the great news for you today: barging into his banquet won’t work; but when you come confessing your sin, when you come to the party in humility, the host will be happy not just to welcome you; but to come out and get you and bring you to where you belong.
My son and I once had the experience of waiting in a long line for a store to open. We got in that line about an hour before the store was to open, and even so there were quite few people in front of us. There was no way that we could’ve forced our way in. But with about forty minutes to go, a friend of ours who worked in that store came out, saw us waiting, and said, “Come with me.” We waltzed past those who had been ahead of us in line and right through the front entrance. It was a pretty good feeling. It really is about who you know.
That’s how it works in the kingdom of Jesus Christ. We can’t muscle our way in—the truth is we don’t deserve to be there at all. Jesus was made like us in every way so that he could step in for us, be punished on a cross for us, suffer hell instead of us. Jesus became one of us to defeat the devil and to break the power of death by rising to life on Easter. When we approach God’s feast in humility, the crucified and risen Savior actually comes out to get us to bring us in to where he is. He comes out with forgiveness and life, saying, “Friend, move up higher!” Move up higher—be washed in the baptismal water and joined to Jesus. Move up higher—receive forgiveness of your sins and be reconciled to others. Move up higher—hear the Word of God and let the Holy Spirit create a new heart within. Move up higher—eat and drink at the feast of the Lord, where Jesus’ body and blood are offered for pardon and peace. Let’s never forget that all of us are here in the kingdom of God, feasting at His table, for one reason alone: we have a gracious Host. We have a host who comes out to the humble and brings them in.

The Whispered Word

In a book called “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire” a roman Emperor is quoted: “I have now reigned above 50 years in victory or peace, beloved by my subjects, dreaded by my enemies, and respected by my allies. Riches and honors, power and pleasure, have waited on my call. In this situation I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot: they amount to fourteen days! O man, place not thy confidence in this present world.”

            You’ve heard it so often that by now it’s cliché—money can’t buy love or happiness. This quote gets at something a little deeper, though…something that we all can relate to…the feeling that our successes in life are fleeting. We barely have time to enjoy the ups before another down time comes..

            Have you ever been involved in a project that took months or years to complete, finished it, celebrated and then wondered what was next? All this time you have been working towards a goal, anticipated it, dreamed of finishing it and then suddenly, it’s done. Maybe it’s finally graduating from school, getting a new job, or finally getting over an illness, and now that we’ve had this victory, we find ourself at a loss. What do I do now? What do I have to look forward to? We celebrated getting it done, but life just seems to move on. Today may even bring new problems that yesterday’s victory won’t change. We may go from feeling great to feeling sad or depressed. Why is it yesterday I felt God was with me, and today I feel alone and adrift?

            The prophet Elijah had these same types of thoughts. Part of what makes the Bible ring so true is how human God’s servants are. The people who did such great things for God were not bulletproof superheroes—on the contrary—they complained, they fought amongst themselves, they try to handle things themselves, they very easily became depressed and discouraged. In other words, they’re just like us. In today’s Old Testament lesson, we find Elijah hiding out in a cave. How he got there is important for us to hear.

Elijah had just experienced an exhilarating victory. Yahweh, the God of Israel, had just proven his absolute power over the false god Baal—a contest that wasn’t even close. You may remember how fire came down from heaven and consumed Elijah’s waterlogged altar. Elijah had been given dramatic proof of God’s reality with all the pyrotechnics that a person could wish for. From a prophetic standpoint, Elijah was crusin’.

The very next day, the pagan queen of Israel promises to put Elijah to death, and Elijah’s knees get weak. In light of what Elijah just experienced, you might expect him to say, “Bring it on. God is on my side.” But instead, the prospect of being a fugitive leads him to say: “I have had enough, Lord, take my life.” Elijah had the advantage of actually seeing fire come down from heaven in the LORD’s name…he had the advantage of being on the winning team…and his fear still got the best of him. Yesterday’s victory seemed like a distant memory. On one hand you might wonder how one of God’s prophets could be so fickle. On the other hand, you and I both know how, because we’re no different.

 Some days the cross and what Jesus did for us gives us so much comfort and help…the next day we may feel nothing. Living in a sinful world and being a sinner can cause us to be dragged down. What’s worse is we feel guilty for not feeling better about things or being able to find the peace we know we should find through Jesus. Yes, we’ve had some victories with God in the past, but today is a new day with its own problems. Like Elijah, our memories are short, and so we run and hide from our problems. We forget how God handled things for us in the past, and so we feel like giving up. Like Elijah, we want the God who sends down fire to burn up our problems, who hands us the victory each and every time. We have crouched in that cave with Elijah more times than we care to admit.

But one thing that God’s servants seem to have in common is a fighting spirit. Despite the circumstances, they still believe that God is in control and has the power to change things, and they confront God with this belief.  Elijah displays this sort of aggressive trust in the Lord, and that’s one of the main things we can learn from him. Elijah doesn’t pull any punches. He lets the Lord know right where he stands. He essentially tells God, “Lord, I’ve been faithful to you and look where it’s gotten me. Yesterday I had this great victory, but today I’m all alone. Where are you for me when I need you?” Now that might seem a little direct, a little too in-your-face for your liking, but I tend to think God understands, and in a way, that kind of prayer honors him. Why? Because it shows that the person praying really feels strongly that God has the ability and power to help. Elijah was upset and running scared, but he still managed to take his problem to God. We can do the exact same thing by talking to God in prayer. You can pour out your heart to God. You can be as direct with Him as you want to be, because he is big enough to handle it. In fact, he may be looking to see if there’s some fight left in your faith.

In any case, he hears and he answers. And notice how he answers Elijah. First a great wind comes, then an earthquake, and then fire. Considering what Elijah had been through, he probably thought he was in deep trouble. Fire, earthquakes, strong winds, these were signs of God’s wrath and judgment. Elijah, knowing his own cowardice, was probably bracing himself for punishment. But Scripture says God was not in those things. Instead, he communicates with Elijah with words, whispered into the prophet’s ear.

There are two things about those whispered words that I find fascinating. The first is that God still loves his servant Elijah and still desires his services. He does not use his power over the elements to crush Elijah, but instead he comes to the depressed prophet quietly and gently, whispering words of instruction and encouragement. There are seven thousand in Israel who have remained faithful to God. Elijah is not as alone as he thinks. The Lord whispers words of restoration to Elijah and urges him to get back in the game.

The second thing worth noting is the contrast between the dramatic display of wind, earthquake, and fire and the whispered word. At one time or another, all of us have probably wished that God would do dramatic things in our lives; that he would get our attention with an unmistakable display of divine power. We have craved seeing the types of things Elijah saw. Yet when it comes to restoring his servant, God does not do it with a roar or a rumble or a flash; he does it in a way that is utterly ordinary. He does it by speaking words. Boy, would we love it if God spoke to us from a glowing cloud and told us exactly what to do—but the truth is, God does speak to his people. He speaks to us from the pages of his Word. He speaks to us when we hear and repeat his Word in worship. God speaks when his people gather to study his Word. The question is, are we listening? Are we really ready to believe that God comes to us and communicates with us in such an ordinary way? That’s what sent Elijah on his way again. That’s what got him out of the cave and down the mountain and back into a life of service—not the blinding, frightening fear of God’s wrath, but words—words whispered by a God who loves us enough to lower his voice and talk to us in a way we can understand.

In our lives as Christians we are going to have highs and lows. We are going to face challenges that cause us to question just about everything we hold to be true. When those times hit, we must not ignore the simple, ordinary words God speaks to us, for those words put us back in touch with the one thing that matters most.

A man in Dundee, Scotland was confined to a bed for forty years, having broken his neck in fall at age fifteen. But his spirit remained unbroken, and his cheer and courage so inspired people that he enjoyed a constant stream of guests. One day a visitor asked him, doesn’t Satan ever tempt you to doubt God?

“Oh yes,” replied the man. “He does try to tempt me. I lie here and see my old schoolmates driving along and Satan whispers, ‘If God is so good, why does he keep you here all these years? Why did he permit your neck to be broken?’

“What do you do when Satan whispers those things?” asked the guest.

“Ah,” the man replied, “I take him to Calvary, show him Christ, and point to those deep wounds and say, ‘You see, he does love me.’ And Satan has no answer to that. He runs away every time.”

 

We will have our down days as Christians—that’s the price of living in a world ruined by sin. We’re constantly battling our old ways, and that can bring us down, too. But we can take comfort in the fact that, like Elijah, we have direct access to God, who not only welcomes our prayers, but answers them in a way that’s best for us. We have a God who speaks and who even now is whispering words of forgiveness and reconciliation and hope in Jesus Christ. Let’s listen to His Words and live.

Compassion

What makes someone “cool?” The appearance of a “cool” person changes from generation to generation. A cool person in the 1950s (leather jacket and t-shirt) looks different than the cool person from the 60s (long hair and love beads), or the 70s (disco suit, huge collar and platform shoes) or the 80s (parachute pants and swatch watch). To show you how out of it I am, I don’t even know what cool is today. You’ve got your geeks and nerds and hipsters, but honestly, I’m not sure what it looks like anymore.

            But what cool acts like is more constant. The cool person seems to be in control of their emotions. Being cool means you never really show what’s going on deep down inside, whether you’re hurt or lonely or excited.  In more extreme cases, you could say that the urge to be cool is a conscious move away from innocence—it’s a way of being in the world that basically says, “Life stinks. People hurt you and disappoint you. I’ll never let myself be treated that way again, so I’m putting up this wall. I’m putting on this mask so you’ll never see how vulnerable I am.”

            By that definition, Jesus would definitely have to be considered uncool. Here was God in the flesh walking around in the world, but he wasn’t above it all. He refused to be cynical about people. He wore his emotions on his sleeve. He wasn’t afraid to feel deeply for people, or to get upset about their problems. Jesus was all about attachment, not detachment. And that is very, very good news.

            So we see the uncool Jesus in the Gospel of Luke, coming across a funeral procession. Through the city gates of Nain comes a broken-hearted mother mourning the death of her only son. Jesus sees this situation and is moved with compassion. Now it’s extremely important that we understand what is meant by compassion here. It’s more than just feeling sorry for someone. In the original Greek, the word is “splangchthna.” Great word. “Splangchthna.” Sounds, messy, doesn’t it? Almost like ‘Splat.” Which is appropriate, because “Splangchthna” means “gut-wrenching.” It means you feel so bad for someone else’s pain that your insides feel all twisted up. That’s how Jesus felt as he watched this funeral procession. He hates the effects of sin he sees. He hates the fact that death robbed a young man of life. He hates the fact that a widow has been robbed of last remaining family member and source of support. Grief and sadness has rippled out into the whole village. Jesus cannot stand coolly by, detached, hiding his feelings behind dark shades. His splangchthna causes him to act immediately. His compassion causes him to do something very uncool. He stops the funeral, touches the coffin, and talk to the dead man. Awkward, right? Except, when Jesus talks, He speaks words of life. He commands the young man to live again, and a dead heart starts beating again. Dead lungs fill with oxygen. A dead brain starts firing signals. Dead eyes start gathering images, and a dead mouth begins to speak.  Life returns by the word of Jesus. The young man is alive again. So, in a sense, is his mother. The town’s grief is turned to amazement. That’s what happens when the Life-giver shows up—the Life-giver who goes around getting his guts wrenched by the pain and suffering that he sees. Splangchthna. Maybe you’ve felt it too.

This was not an isolated event in Jesus’ life. The gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John record at least eight other instances when Jesus’ Splangchthna resulted in immediate action. His compassion resulted in loving service to lepers, blind men, the demon-possessed, and the hungry, not to mention the dead and grieving! In many of these acts, Jesus exposed himself to ritual impurity, like here in Luke, touching the open air coffin of the young man exposed Jesus to a day’s uncleanness, according to Jewish law and custom. Touching the corpse meant a week’s worth of uncleanness, the most severe form of ritual impurity. In a religious sense, what Jesus was willing to do was not cool, and it opened him up to all kinds of criticism! The religious establishment could only see a radical miracle worker with a blatant disregard for the rules, and therefore, this Jesus is a problem. His followers saw, and we can see it too, through the eyes of faith, the power of Splangthna. In Jesus, we see compassionate love so strong that he was willing to be covered with filth to bring his holiness to the situation. That’s how he operates. That’s how he saves you and me.

Jesus hated the effects of sin he saw in the world. He hated the fact that death robbed young men and women and children of life. He hated the fact that sickness and disease robbed husbands and wives of long life together. He hated the fact that grief and sadness and despair has rippled out across the world. Jesus did stand coolly by, detached, hiding his feelings behind dark shades. His splangchthna caused him to act. His compassion caused him to do something very uncool. It caused Him to sweat drops of blood, to cry and pray in the Garden of Gethsemane. It caused Him to be slapped around by guards and treated like a circus sideshow by rulers. It caused him to be punished like a criminal, his body and his heart broken, insulted even while hanging on the cross. His holiness was swamped by our filth. It drowned Him. Splangcthna. He let it happen. You know why, don’t you? Because Jesus knew it was either Him or you.

Once upon a time a bee stung a woman on the cheek. Then it chased her daughter around the room. The little girl was terrorized, until her mother said, “It’s OK, sweetie, the bee left its stinger in me. It can’t hurt you now.” The gigantic stinger of eternal death was plunged into Jesus on the cross, and he let it happen, because he knew it was either Him or you. Splangthna. Compassion. “Death has lost its sting.”

Can you handle the fact that Jesus loves you that much? Our God aches for you to know the real freedom he can give; He passionately desires for you to grow in faith and wisdom. His gut-wrenching compassion rescued you for eternity.

How will you release that compassion in your life?

If You Build It...

In the movie Field of Dreams, an Iowa farmer builds a temple of sorts. He becomes convinced of the need to replace a cornfield with a unique temple, a baseball diamond. He is driven by the motto: “If you build it, they will come.” And in the movie, they do come—“they” being ballplayers from times past—the Shoeless Joes who emerge from the surrounding corn fields to finish baseball business. At the movie’s end, “they” also includes a long line of cars making their way along Iowa’s back roads to watch the baseball action.

“If you build it, they will come” is also the operative conviction in today’s Old Testament reading, although it speaks of a far greater temple—the temple built by King Solomon as the dwelling place of the Almighty God. Solomon’s temple was no mere ballpark in a cornfield, but there are some parallels between the fictional baseball diamond and the factual house of God.

For instance, in Field of Dreams, there’s a lot of skepticism about whether the ballplayers of the past would really come to play ball. The magic of the story is that they did. A similar--though much greater--question surfaces in the case of Solomon’s temple. Now that we have built it, “will God really dwell on earth?” His answer is a resounding “yes”—He promised, “My name shall be there,” and where God’s name is, God is. Now, you could sit there today thinking, “Well, God’s name is here, too, so does that mean God is here, now?” The answer is a resounding “yes.” Hopefully we meant it when we sang “God Himself is Present,” because He is! It tells you a lot about our natural condition when people go to church, but don’t really expect God to show up. By His own promise, He comes to you in the Bible and at His Table. He descends to us here in this place. Why else would you come here, if not for that?

Do you realize, you are like the people who drove out to the cornfield baseball diamond to watch the game in Field of Dreams? “If you build it, they will come.” Really? Today as we meet for worship in this hour, think about this: you are the fulfillment of Solomon’s words. What an Old Testament King said in a prayer thousands and thousands of years ago is coming true because of you! Because of us! Because of a God who loves to gather us by His Word! Do you hear what Solomon is saying? You are the foreigner he was talking about in verse 41, the non-Israelite. You have heard of the great name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. You have heard and experienced his mighty hand and outstretched arm. You have heard his good news and sensed his activity in the world. What you have heard and believed has brought you here into God’s house. And I don’t mean to shock you, but God has shown up today. His voice calls to you from His Word. He is under bread and wine, waiting to commune with you. The Lord of the highest heavens cannot be contained in structures built by human hands, and yet in love for you and me; out of deep concern for your well being, God descends to you here, not to punish you; not to demand your loyalty; not to force you to grovel at his feet; but to serve you; to serve you. That’s why we call this the Divine Service. God is serving us.

Now, we sang this hymn before, which you may or may not know very well: “God Himself Is Present.” Look at what this hymn is saying. If you want to look at the words in the bulletin or in the hymnal, I encourage you to do that. “God Himself is present: Let us now adore Him/And with awe appear before Him. God is in His temple—All within keep silence, Prostrate lie with deepest reverence.”

Are you tracking with the words of this hymn? Does this describe your experience in worship? “God is in His temple—All within keep silence, Prostrate lie with deepest reverence.” Do you know what that means? It means to shut your mouth and lie down on the ground before the awesome power of the Lord God Almighty. The closest we get to that around here is when we are invited to kneel during the confession of sins—and that’s appropriate. That’s the right idea. That posture is close to lying down on the ground in deep reverence, but of course it’s not about the posture of your body. It’s about the posture of your heart. It’s about the posture of your heart when you enter this building and take your seat in the pew. Do you see how appropriate is it to shut your mouth and lie down before God? Do you think He’s OK with all the things you’ve thought since the last time you were here? Do you think He’s OK with all the things you’ve said and done and refused to do—all the things you’ve looked at and wanted and rejected? Do you think he’s OK with being denied and ignored and used? For who we are and what we have done, God would be justified in saying, “Get out of my face.”

He is holy; totally unlike us. And totally unlike us, He is merciful. You have heard of the great name of Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. You have heard and experienced his mighty hand and outstretched arm. You have heard his good news and sensed his activity in the world. What you have heard and believed has brought you here into God’s house. When you come admitting who you are and what you have done; when your heart takes a posture of vulnerability and openness to God, then you are ready to hear this: The Lord God Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth, finds you not guilty. You have a spotless record before the Lord. You will do no time for your offenses. Do you know why? It’s not because you didn’t really do those things. It’s because the Son of God, Jesus, stepped in and took your sentence. Voluntarily. He was not led to a chamber for lethal injection or strapped into an electric chair. No, his back felt the Roman whip. He was nailed to a wooden cross. A spear was thrust into his side, probably piercing his heart. His Father turned away, and his heart was definitely broken. Jesus endured that, when it should’ve been me. Should’ve been you. It’s Jesus instead. Mercy.

“God Himself is present: let us now adore Him and with awe appear before Him.” Do you see why we should adore him? Do you see why awe is the right reaction? Once more, God has descended to you here, not to punish you; not to demand your loyalty; not to force you to grovel at his feet; but to forgive you. To put you in your right mind. To cause a rebirth of faith in your heart. In answer to Solomon’s ancient prayer, The Lord has come to you, and you have come to Him.

A Master Workman

In the books of Proverbs, we get a picture of Jesus as a craftsman. Now it’s true, at one time in his life, he was a carpenter. But in these verses, we see him doing more advanced work.

You might not expect to find Jesus in the book of Proverbs. Most of the time we meet him in the Gospels. But here he is, “hiding out” in the Old Testament. The chapter begins by talking about wisdom. Wisdom is personified. Wisdom speaks as though it’s a person. For example, in verse 12, Wisdom says, “I, wisdom, dwell together with prudence, I possess knowledge and discretion.” But then, in verse 22, as wisdom talks, it starts to sound like Jesus. And by the time the chapter is over, you know for sure that this is Jesus that is talking. And that’s not a coincidence. The Bible tells us that wisdom isn’t just a concept – it’s a person – Christ is wisdom, and wisdom is Christ.

When we picture Jesus Christ, we almost always picture him as the Son of God who started his work after his Christmas birth. But according to the Bible, Jesus was working long before the first Christmas. Look at verse 22: “I was appointed from eternity, from the beginning, before the world began.” Jesus existed before the world began. Verse 23: “When there were no oceans, I was given birth.” Or verse 24: “Before the mountains were settled in place, before the hills, I was given birth.”

We confess that truth in our Nicene Creed, when we say that we believe in Jesus Christ, who was “begotten of his Father before all worlds.” God the Father and God the Son existed together before they made the world. They were closely united together, before the world was made. Now on one hand we acknowledge the deep mystery here, but on the other hand, do you see how God is described? Before creation, God existed in a relationship. That’s not too terribly hard to understand. We get relationships. Well, the God of the Bible tells us He has always lived in a relationship from Father to Son with the Spirit. It is that relationship idea that keeps a discussion about the Trinity from being just an exercise in wordplay. It is that relationship that helps us understand  who He is.

For instance, many people picture Jesus as the Savior of all mankind, and that’s it. But the Bible tells us here in Proverbs and in other places (like the first chapter of John) that He was also involved in the creation of the world. Verse 27: “I was there when he set the heavens in place, when he marked out the horizon on the face of the deep…” Verse 30: “I was the craftsman at his side.” Jesus was the craftsman, the skilled worker, crafting the world alongside of God the Father, the two of them, as one God, working closely together. The Father speaking; and Christ, the water of life, crafting the lakes and the oceans. The Father speaking, and Christ, the rock of salvation, crafting the hills and mountains. And notice how Jesus felt after he was finished crafting his creation, verse 30: “I was filled with delight day after day, rejoicing always in his presence, rejoicing in the whole world, and delighting in mankind.” What an absolutely beautiful picture this is of Father and Son working in relationship with each other, and out of their love creating a world…creating us…delighting in mankind.

And yet, that delight, that love for us would cost God dearly. Wisdom would be put to the test. Because it was not enough for man and woman to be the object of God’s delight. They doubted His words. They wanted to know what He knew. They believed a lie. They crossed the boundary. Their decision introduced the sickness of sin and the cold certainty of death into the created world. They rejected the relationship they had been created for. The actions of Adam and Eve have set the standards for sin and death ever since—doubting God’s Word. Wanting to be God. Looking for love in all the wrong places. Prioritizing God right out of life. If the Bible is right, and Jesus is wisdom, then it looks like we don’t got very much.

 And so, after crafting the world, Jesus set about to craft something else – our salvation.

Verse 31 of this passage tells us why Christ was willing to die for us. It’s because he “delighted in mankind.” That’s his inexplicable love the Bible calls grace. In verse 35, Jesus says, “Whoever finds me finds life, and receives favor from the Lord.” And that’s absolutely true. But it sounds so easy. The fact is, the blueprint that Jesus followed when he crafted our salvation was a very difficult one. He had to stop being the craftsman AT THE FATHER’S SIDE. He had to leave His Father’s side and go to the cross. There on the cross, Jesus was separated from his Heavenly Father. Jesus even expressed that when he said, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me.” This was the real pain of the crucifixion—not the nails, not the struggle to breathe, but breaking of relationship. Father and Son had created together; they had delighted in mankind. But as he hung from the cross, the Father turned his back on him. That’s how Christ crafted our salvation – by allowing himself to be torn away from his Father’s side, dying as a sacrifice for sins. For our sins.

It’s been said that great things aren’t made without great sacrifice. We are rapidly approaching the 69^th anniversary of D-Day, when thousands of soldiers sacrificed themselves as they stormed the beaches of France. You could say that each one of those soldiers was a craftsman, and what they crafted was freedom. And they did that by sacrificing their lives.

The “Christian D-Day” was Good Friday. On that day, Christ stormed the hill of Calvary. He was a man, but he was also God from eternity, and there on that hill he crafted our salvation by sacrificing his life.

Then the Father raised his Son from the dead on Easter morning, and forty days later, Jesus ascended into heaven, and what happened there? Do you see it? He took his place at his Father’s side again, the Architect and the Craftsman reunited. Today the Father and the Son share the Holy Spirit with you, who works in you, once again like a craftsman. What is it that the Holy Spirit crafts inside of you? It’s your faith. And what does faith do? It brings you into relationship with the God who is a relationship, so that you can know what it means to be perfectly, completely, sacrificially loved.

Adapted from a sermon by Don Schultz