Friends of Jesus

In Nomine Iesu
St. John 15:9-17
May 17, 2009
Easter 6B

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

You’ve got a friend . . . in Jesus. Jesus says so. Jesus decrees it. You and He . . . are friends. “I no longer call you servants,” He says. “Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.” It certainly sounds nice, and it is nice to be a friend of Jesus. But what does it mean?

Friend, after all, is one of those words that can have a very broad or a very narrow meaning. There are friends in whom we can confide, and with whom we can share our most honest feelings—friends who are there through thick and thin. But we also have social friends—people who attend the same social functions as we do, who work in the same office, who sit in the same classroom, who have children the same age as our own. We know these people. We like these people. We say “hi” to them at the grocery story, but we don’t do a significant amount of emotional sharing with them. But we call them our friends. And then there are Facebook friends—people we’re connected to through social networking websites, but people we rarely if ever see or interact with on a personal level. And yet all of these people fall within the broad category of friends.

But to be a friend of Jesus means so much more than anything I’ve just described. So let me tell you what it means that Jesus calls you His friend. Back in ancient times, when kings and queens ruled the world, the person who was closest to the king, his personal confidant and advisor, was called the friend of the king. Friends of the king were something like the cabinet secretaries of today who work with the president to develop and implement policy. If you were a friend of the king you didn’t toil away in some windowless cubicle in a government office building. No, the friends of the king always worked with the king. They were involved in discussions and decisions. They had a say in what was decided. They knew their master’s business. What’s more, they were authorized to speak for the king, and to act on his behalf. Friends of the king didn’t only work with the king, but they also shared in his rule.

When Jesus calls you His friend, therefore, what He means is that you are His advisor. You are His personal confidant. You are His cabinet secretary. The servants of the king only do what they’re told. They have no say regarding policy and decision-making. But you are not a servant. Jesus calls you His friend. You, of course, receive everything from Him. He is the vine; you are but the branches. It’s not that you chose Him, but that He chose you—chose you to be His friend and to bear fruit that will last. He honors you. He values your opinions. He wants to hear what you have to say.

This, then, leads us to the first responsibility for those who are called friends of Jesus—the responsibility of prayer. If you are His advisor—if you are His confidant—if you are His cabinet secretary—then He surely desires to hear from you. Did you catch that point concerning prayer from Jesus? He says, “I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last. Then,” He says, “the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name.” Your asking, therefore, your prayers, are a part of your work in the Jesus administration. As a friend of Jesus, you’ve got access to the Father. And because Jesus backs you and stands with you and confides in you, God the Father listens—listens to you—takes your prayers into account.

So why are you so quiet? Why are you so reluctant and shy to speak up in prayer? You’ve got a seat at the table with the King. You are a friend of Jesus. Your words and recommendations matter to Him. But most of us aren’t so good about exercising the privilege of prayer. Perhaps some of us think it’s pointless—that God has already decided everything—that the future has been set in cement and my prayers won’t make a bit of difference. But that’s not what the Bible tells us. We are not living in a closed universe in which the blueprint for your life has been unalterably fixed. Don’t believe that for a minute! While it’s true that God Himself does not and will not change His gracious purpose to save you through His Son, yet the Bible frequently speaks of God changing His mind on other matters. Abraham prayed to God for Sodom and Gomorrah. Moses prayed to God that He would reverse course and not destroy His people. And God listened and responded.

As a friend of Jesus, you stand shoulder to shoulder with Abraham and Moses. Your prayers matter as much as theirs. The outcome of world events—and the outcome of personal events that matter most to you—these outcomes will be different based upon your prayers according to God’s Word, in the name of Jesus. Oh, things may not turn out exactly as you might hope. But that doesn’t change the fact that when you pray as a friend of Jesus, you may be doing far more to shape the course of the human race than anything that may transpire at the United Nations or the Nation’s Capitol or the other capitols of the world. Friends of Jesus pray—with boldness and confidence.

As a friend of Jesus, you are authorized to speak and act on His behalf. You are His representative to the world. And your marching orders are simple: “Love one another as I have loved you.” Friends of Jesus carry out their work both as they pray, and as they love one another. Love is the second responsibility for the friends of Jesus.

When Jesus says, “Love one another,” He isn’t saying that we always have to like one another, or that we should always feel affectionate toward everyone around us. You can’t legislate feelings and emotions. Jesus isn’t telling us to feel warm and fuzzy toward others. He tells us to love them. This love means being patient and kind. It means that we refrain from being boastful, arrogant and rude toward others. It means that we don’t rejoice in what is wrong with each other, but that we rejoice over what is right and true. This love bears all things, trusts all things, hopes all things. This love sacrifices and suffers all things for the sake of others. It keeps no record of wrongs.

No friend of Jesus can say, “I don’t have this love to give.” You have it. You may or may not use it, but it’s there. It’s there because Jesus puts it there. Nor can you say, “I don’t feel like it.” This love overrules your feelings. Love one another. Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church and gave Himself up for her. Parents, love your children. Children, love your parents. Friends of Jesus—chosen, baptized, believing—love one another.

This is how the world knows that you are a friend of Jesus. This love is what caused the world to sit up and take notice of those first Christians back in the First Century. It wasn’t their impressive buildings; they didn’t have any. It wasn’t their body of doctrine; that hadn’t been completely developed yet. It wasn’t their fancy worship; the pagan temples were far more impressive. What caused the world to sit up and take notice was love—the love that the first Christians had for each other in spite of all their differences—in spite of how they suffered. “See how they love one another,” they said. The world had never seen anything like it before.

Jesus has chosen you to be His friend. Why? For reasons of joy. “I have told you this,” He says, “so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete.” There is joy in being called friends of Jesus. The joy of being chosen and loved. We didn’t choose Jesus; He chose us. And all the praying and all the loving we do along the way simply flow from His decision to die for our sins and bear them all away.

“Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down His life for His friends.” Jesus’ life laid down for you. That’s the joy of being Jesus’ friend—that’s why you can be His friend, that’s why you have access to the Father, that’s why your prayers are heard, that’s why you will live and reign forever with Jesus. “Love one another,” He says, “as I have loved you.” Don’t miss that last part: “as I have loved you.” Jesus’ love comes first. He first goes all the way to the cross and the tomb. He first dies for our sin and forgives us. It’s only when we are loved by God in Jesus that we can love. And then the love is not our own. It doesn’t come from within us, but from Jesus. And this love lasts forever.

You are chosen. You are loved in Jesus. Jesus calls you His friend. Living each day as a friend of Jesus, you are free to love as you have been loved, free to pray for the whole people of God in Christ Jesus and for all people according to their needs. It’s all part of the privilege of being a friend of Jesus. Amen.

"Bog Da"

In Nomine Iesu
Gen. 22/St. John 19
April 10, 2009
Good Friday

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

Many of you, I know, have personalized license plates on your vehicle. Growing up in Kansas, my parents always called personalized license plates, “vanity” plates—which has sort of a judgmental, almost sinful, ring to it. Needless to say, my family’s vehicles didn’t have vanity plates. We were far too humble for that sort of ostentatious display. In fact, I was forbidden to socialize with those who had vanity tags. (I’m being a little facetious . . .)

But as you drive around town, you do see some interesting personalized license plates. Some are fairly easy to figure out. Others appear to be just a random collection of letters and numbers, the meaning of which can only be known by the drivers. That was the case with friends of ours in Whitefish Bay on whose license plates are inscribed the words: “Bog Da.” “Bog Da” is one of those personalized plates, the meaning of which can be known only by the driver.

That is, unless you happen to be from Croatia in Eastern Europe. That’s the place from which these friends of ours with the strange license plates emigrated many years ago. Back in the old country, everyone knew what “Bog Da” meant. It’s apparently a well known saying. It means “The Lord will provide.” In English it’s too cumbersome to squeeze onto a license plate, but in Croatian it fits very nicely: “Bog Da: The Lord will provide.” For our friends it was simply a good reminder—a statement of faith—in both good times and bad—in all of life’s busyness and errand-running: “The Lord will provide.”

Those words are actually ancient words—words that go all the way back to Genesis chapter 22. There God approached a faithful old man named Abraham. Abraham was at the top of his game. After decades of waiting, God had given to Abraham and his wife, Sarah, a precious child—a son named Isaac. All of God’s promises to Abraham hinged on Isaac—that his descendants would comprise a great nation and settle in a land of promise, and that through Abraham all people on earth would be blessed. The birth of Isaac to his geriatric parents was the great confirmation that God always keeps His promises—no matter how outlandish they may be.

It must have been a terrible shock then, for Abraham to hear God make this dreadful demand: “Take your son, your only son, Isaac, whom you love, and go to the region of Moriah. Sacrifice him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I will tell you about” (Gen. 22:2). Nothing could have prepared Abraham to hear those words. Every step of that journey must have been agonizing for Abraham. On the third day, when Mount Moriah came into view, Abraham’s anguish must have been unbearable. As he and Isaac walked along, the boy carried the wood for the burnt offering, while Abraham carried the fire and the knife. From Isaac’s perspective there was only one thing missing. Abraham’s heart must have shattered when Isaac asked him, “Father, the fire and the wood are here, but where is the lamb for the burnt offering?” And Abraham, the man of faith, replied: “The Lord will provide the lamb for the offering.”

At what must have been the darkest moment of his life, Abraham could still say with faith and conviction, “The Lord will provide.” Abraham said it. Abraham believed it. Abraham was right. God Himself provided the Lamb for sacrifice. On this day, Good Friday, we understand this statement in all of its fullness and grandeur. “The Lord will provide.” For some two thousand years later, near the very spot where Abraham had come within seconds of sacrificing his own son, God Himself offered up His one and only Son for sacrifice on the cross. So that there could be no doubt, God had sent John the Baptist to point his boney finger at Jesus and make a positive ID: “Behold, the Lamb of God. Behold the Lamb that God Himself has provided—the Lamb who takes away the sin of the world.”

Today we follow the finger and voice of John and we behold—we look upon the Lamb God provided. We look to the Lamb because He hangs on the cross in our place. He gets what we deserve. The curse of our sin and death is laid upon Him. The Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.

The Lord has provided this Lamb, Jesus Christ. By His wounds, Isaiah says, we are healed. So contemplate those wounds of the Lamb with me for just a moment. Consider first the wounds of His sacred head, punctured by the crown of thorns He wears. In the wounds of His head is healing for our sins of thinking—for covetous and lustful thoughts, for selfish schemes and blind ambition, for pride and for vanity. By the blessed wounds of His head, you are healed of these. You are forgiven. And your mind is now a place of repentance.

See also the wounds of His hands. In the wounds of His hands is healing for the sins that find expression through our hands—for finger pointing and assigning our blame to others, for pointing at others in mockery and gossip, for striking out in rage and for holding, hoarding and stealing what is not ours. By the blessed wounds of His hands, you are healed of these. You are forgiven. And your hands are now made fruitful in service to God and your neighbor.

Behold the wounds of His feet. Here is healing for the times when you have walked with your feet in the counsel of the wicked and stood in the way of sinners—when you have run away from responsibility and repentance, when you’ve kept your distance from the Savior and the gifts He offers in the Divine Service. By the blessed wounds of His feet, you are healed of these. You are forgiven. And your feet are now readied to delight in His will and walk in His ways to the glory of His holy name.

Behold the wounds of His lacerated back. In the wounds of His back is healing for all the times when you have stood ramrod straight, so as not to bend over and see those who need you to lift them up, who need you to listen, who need to hear from you that yes, even in life’s darkest hour, the Lord will provide. By the blessed wounds of His back, your back is healed to stoop down low and to lift up on your shoulders the lost and the straying and the hurting.

And from the side of the Savior, where the spear was thrust to ensure His death, there flows the mystery of the love of God. Come in close to that wound—that wound from which the Lord provides for you and for His whole church. From that wound flows the water of Holy Baptism—water that cleanses you of the filth of your sin—water that soothes and cools that burning conscience of yours. From that blessed wound also flows blood—blood that fills the chalice from which you drink. That lifeblood of Jesus flows into your mortal and condemned body, riddled with disorder, and it re-orders everything with the sweetness of God’s forgiveness, God’s life, God’s salvation.

Beloved in the Lord, on this Good Friday it is clearer that ever that Abraham was right when he said, “The Lord will provide.” In Jesus Christ God has provided—and still provides you—with everything that you need. Your sin has been atoned for and the gates of heaven have been thrown wide open. But also this day—whatever the burden you carry, whatever it is that causes you to be fearful and frightened—whatever your own trials and temptations may be—on this Good Friday, I say to you as a child of old Abraham, “Bog Da.” The Lord will provide. Amen.