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.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Thursday, May 7, 2009
"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.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Confronting Sin: An Act of Love
In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 18:15-20
September 7, 2008
Pentecost 17A-Proper 18
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
If I had a magic wand . . . If I had a genie in a bottle . . . If I spied a shooting star tonight . . . . do you know what my wish would be? My wish would be that one simple verse from today’s holy gospel would be heard and learned and taken to heart and practiced by Christians everywhere. I believe that if we Christians committed ourselves to live out these two sentences from the Savior, the world would be a different place. Your home and this church would be different places. Your marriage and your friendships would be transformed.
Jesus said: “If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over.”
Few words of Jesus are more ignored than these. Few commands from Jesus are sinned against more readily and regularly than these. And rarely are God’s people hurt more deeply than when these words of Jesus are disregarded. Matthew chapter 18 is all about life in the church—about our life together as brothers and sisters in Christ. And Jesus makes two things perfectly clear about our life together in the church: 1. Sin happens, and 2. Confronting that sin is an act of love.
Jesus’ words for today are so important that we’ll take them one phrase at a time. Jesus said, “If your brother sins . . .” Brother here doesn’t mean male sibling. With the word “brother” Jesus is referring to a Christian brother—a brother or sister in the faith—a fellow Christian—fellow church members—perhaps even someone with whom we may kneel at the Communion rail. There are, of course, a lot of people who don’t fall into this category of “brother”—people without faith in Christ who may or may not sin against you. They are a different breed all together. They are not “brothers.” Jesus’ words here don’t necessarily apply to them when they sin against us.
When Jesus says, “If your brother sins,” it shows that even brothers and sisters in Christ can and do sin against one another. Jesus anticipated it. Jesus expected it. When you walk through the doors of the church, you are not entering a sin-free zone. You don’t have to be in this church or any other church for long to realize that God’s children are both saints . . . and sinners. Even here among people who share a common faith in the crucified and risen Christ—among people who will dwell together in heaven for all eternity—sin may abound. Jesus tells us how to deal with it.
Let’s break it down again. Jesus said, “If your brother sins against you . . .” With those two words (against you) Jesus indicates at what point you are to become involved in confronting a brother’s sin. Only if your brother sins against you do you get involved. Assuming, of course, that no one is in imminent danger, you are to say nothing to anyone. Even if you see it with your own two eyes, you are to say nothing to anyone. If you, for instance, witness a fellow member get pulled over for speeding as you drive home today, don’t slow down and give a shameful stare as you drive by. Don’t call me up or anyone else to pass along the news. For you see, the speedy sinner didn’t sin against you or me. It’s none of our business. The “governing authorities” (which we heard about in today’s epistle) will prescribe an appropriate punishment for the wrongdoer. Case closed.
Let’s take it from the top. Jesus said, “If your brother (a fellow Christian) sins against you (and only if he sins against you), go and show him his fault, just between the two of you.” If your brother sins against you, then GO—GO to your brother! When you’ve been sinned against, that’s when YOU are to take the initiative. The onus is on you to begin the process of reconciliation. We’re not to sit around stewing, waiting for an apology. We’re not to tell everyone at the beauty shop or the coffee shop or the grocery store about the way that no-good so-and-so sinned against you. No, Jesus says, you go to your brother. At this point what happened between you is a private matter. Now, as you probably know, this is the point where the entire process always seems to run aground. Because it’s so much easier to stay put and stay hurt and mad and to nurse a grudge than it is to confront the sinner. But Jesus says, “Go.”
Why go to your brother? Because, Jesus says, “if he listens to you, you have won your brother over.” We are to go with the goal of winning back that brother—with the goal of restoring the broken relationship. We’re not to go with the goal of chewing him out or lecturing him or poking our finger in his face. Instead, we go to make him aware of his sin and the hurt he has caused in the hope that he will acknowledge his sin and repent. Confronting sin in this way is always an act of love.
Confronting sin in this way is a great and precious work in the eyes of God. What a mark of Christian faith and maturity to go to the one who has sinned against you plotting—not how to get revenge, but how to gain back your brother. “Blessed are the peace-makers,” Jesus said, “for they will be called sons of God” (Matt. 5:9). How wonderfully different life would be if we all took these words of Jesus to heart.
There are no guarantees, however, as Jesus makes clear. This approach isn’t always successful. If you can’t make headway one-on-one, then, Jesus says, take along two or three others. If that doesn’t work, then and only then we are to tell it to the church. And then the whole church confronts the sinner, always aiming for repentance and reconciliation. And if that doesn’t work, the sinner is excommunicated—not as punishment, but as a last resort to bring about repentance and reconciliation. Confronting sin in this way—according to Jesus’ words—is always an act of love.
Jesus knows how difficult this is; after all, Jesus knows what it’s like to be sinned against. We sin against Him every day. Jesus knows what it takes to restore what is irreparably broken. For Jesus to win you back—for Jesus to make things right between you and the Father—it required that He come to us—as one of us human beings. It required His broken, bleeding body, dying on a cross. It took nails and thorns and spear—spitting, mocking and beating. That’s what Jesus endured to win you back from the damnation you have earned by your sins. That’s what Jesus did to make you His brother and His sister—to earn the forgiveness of all your sins.
Jesus says that we should go to those who sin against us. And you know that’s exactly what Jesus does with sinners like us every Sunday. Jesus doesn’t sit around waiting for sinners to apologize to Him. No, He puts the onus on Himself. He comes to us in the Divine Service. He confronts our sin in His holy Law. He listens to our repentance. He comes to you to win you back—to gain you again as His brother or sister. “Wherever two or three are gathered together in my name,” He says, “there am I in the midst of them.”
Here is Jesus in the midst of us—speaking absolution, washing in baptism, feeding with His own body and blood for forgiveness of sins. Here Jesus deals with you in the very way that He would have you deal with others who sin against you—with patience and love and the deep desire to forgive and to restore what is broken. Because confronting sin is an act of love. And the ultimate act of love was when Jesus confronted your sin on Good Friday and took it all away.
As you leave here today I want you to think about a brother or sister who has sinned against you—someone with whom the bonds of love are so badly broken that it would seem to require a magic wand or a genie or a shooting star to make things right again. But let me remind you that you’ve got something far more powerful at your disposal for making things right again. You have the words of Jesus. With Him all things are possible—including difficult things like confronting sin—things like repentance and restoration and love even where love is lost. Has your brother or sister sinned against you? Then go to that person, because Jesus has promised that when you go, He Himself will go with you. Amen.
St. Matthew 18:15-20
September 7, 2008
Pentecost 17A-Proper 18
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
If I had a magic wand . . . If I had a genie in a bottle . . . If I spied a shooting star tonight . . . . do you know what my wish would be? My wish would be that one simple verse from today’s holy gospel would be heard and learned and taken to heart and practiced by Christians everywhere. I believe that if we Christians committed ourselves to live out these two sentences from the Savior, the world would be a different place. Your home and this church would be different places. Your marriage and your friendships would be transformed.
Jesus said: “If your brother sins against you, go and show him his fault, just between the two of you. If he listens to you, you have won your brother over.”
Few words of Jesus are more ignored than these. Few commands from Jesus are sinned against more readily and regularly than these. And rarely are God’s people hurt more deeply than when these words of Jesus are disregarded. Matthew chapter 18 is all about life in the church—about our life together as brothers and sisters in Christ. And Jesus makes two things perfectly clear about our life together in the church: 1. Sin happens, and 2. Confronting that sin is an act of love.
Jesus’ words for today are so important that we’ll take them one phrase at a time. Jesus said, “If your brother sins . . .” Brother here doesn’t mean male sibling. With the word “brother” Jesus is referring to a Christian brother—a brother or sister in the faith—a fellow Christian—fellow church members—perhaps even someone with whom we may kneel at the Communion rail. There are, of course, a lot of people who don’t fall into this category of “brother”—people without faith in Christ who may or may not sin against you. They are a different breed all together. They are not “brothers.” Jesus’ words here don’t necessarily apply to them when they sin against us.
When Jesus says, “If your brother sins,” it shows that even brothers and sisters in Christ can and do sin against one another. Jesus anticipated it. Jesus expected it. When you walk through the doors of the church, you are not entering a sin-free zone. You don’t have to be in this church or any other church for long to realize that God’s children are both saints . . . and sinners. Even here among people who share a common faith in the crucified and risen Christ—among people who will dwell together in heaven for all eternity—sin may abound. Jesus tells us how to deal with it.
Let’s break it down again. Jesus said, “If your brother sins against you . . .” With those two words (against you) Jesus indicates at what point you are to become involved in confronting a brother’s sin. Only if your brother sins against you do you get involved. Assuming, of course, that no one is in imminent danger, you are to say nothing to anyone. Even if you see it with your own two eyes, you are to say nothing to anyone. If you, for instance, witness a fellow member get pulled over for speeding as you drive home today, don’t slow down and give a shameful stare as you drive by. Don’t call me up or anyone else to pass along the news. For you see, the speedy sinner didn’t sin against you or me. It’s none of our business. The “governing authorities” (which we heard about in today’s epistle) will prescribe an appropriate punishment for the wrongdoer. Case closed.
Let’s take it from the top. Jesus said, “If your brother (a fellow Christian) sins against you (and only if he sins against you), go and show him his fault, just between the two of you.” If your brother sins against you, then GO—GO to your brother! When you’ve been sinned against, that’s when YOU are to take the initiative. The onus is on you to begin the process of reconciliation. We’re not to sit around stewing, waiting for an apology. We’re not to tell everyone at the beauty shop or the coffee shop or the grocery store about the way that no-good so-and-so sinned against you. No, Jesus says, you go to your brother. At this point what happened between you is a private matter. Now, as you probably know, this is the point where the entire process always seems to run aground. Because it’s so much easier to stay put and stay hurt and mad and to nurse a grudge than it is to confront the sinner. But Jesus says, “Go.”
Why go to your brother? Because, Jesus says, “if he listens to you, you have won your brother over.” We are to go with the goal of winning back that brother—with the goal of restoring the broken relationship. We’re not to go with the goal of chewing him out or lecturing him or poking our finger in his face. Instead, we go to make him aware of his sin and the hurt he has caused in the hope that he will acknowledge his sin and repent. Confronting sin in this way is always an act of love.
Confronting sin in this way is a great and precious work in the eyes of God. What a mark of Christian faith and maturity to go to the one who has sinned against you plotting—not how to get revenge, but how to gain back your brother. “Blessed are the peace-makers,” Jesus said, “for they will be called sons of God” (Matt. 5:9). How wonderfully different life would be if we all took these words of Jesus to heart.
There are no guarantees, however, as Jesus makes clear. This approach isn’t always successful. If you can’t make headway one-on-one, then, Jesus says, take along two or three others. If that doesn’t work, then and only then we are to tell it to the church. And then the whole church confronts the sinner, always aiming for repentance and reconciliation. And if that doesn’t work, the sinner is excommunicated—not as punishment, but as a last resort to bring about repentance and reconciliation. Confronting sin in this way—according to Jesus’ words—is always an act of love.
Jesus knows how difficult this is; after all, Jesus knows what it’s like to be sinned against. We sin against Him every day. Jesus knows what it takes to restore what is irreparably broken. For Jesus to win you back—for Jesus to make things right between you and the Father—it required that He come to us—as one of us human beings. It required His broken, bleeding body, dying on a cross. It took nails and thorns and spear—spitting, mocking and beating. That’s what Jesus endured to win you back from the damnation you have earned by your sins. That’s what Jesus did to make you His brother and His sister—to earn the forgiveness of all your sins.
Jesus says that we should go to those who sin against us. And you know that’s exactly what Jesus does with sinners like us every Sunday. Jesus doesn’t sit around waiting for sinners to apologize to Him. No, He puts the onus on Himself. He comes to us in the Divine Service. He confronts our sin in His holy Law. He listens to our repentance. He comes to you to win you back—to gain you again as His brother or sister. “Wherever two or three are gathered together in my name,” He says, “there am I in the midst of them.”
Here is Jesus in the midst of us—speaking absolution, washing in baptism, feeding with His own body and blood for forgiveness of sins. Here Jesus deals with you in the very way that He would have you deal with others who sin against you—with patience and love and the deep desire to forgive and to restore what is broken. Because confronting sin is an act of love. And the ultimate act of love was when Jesus confronted your sin on Good Friday and took it all away.
As you leave here today I want you to think about a brother or sister who has sinned against you—someone with whom the bonds of love are so badly broken that it would seem to require a magic wand or a genie or a shooting star to make things right again. But let me remind you that you’ve got something far more powerful at your disposal for making things right again. You have the words of Jesus. With Him all things are possible—including difficult things like confronting sin—things like repentance and restoration and love even where love is lost. Has your brother or sister sinned against you? Then go to that person, because Jesus has promised that when you go, He Himself will go with you. Amen.
Monday, August 4, 2008
From Meager to Miraculous
In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 14:13-21
August 3, 2008
Pentecost 12A-Proper 13
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
It’s no secret. But I suspect that a majority of people here today don’t know it. It’s one of the most extraordinary things about our congregation. You’d have to look long and hard to find another congregation that can “out-do” us in this particular area. Here’s what you might not know, but should: One of every five dollars given to our Lord in weekly offerings at Our Savior is given away by Our Savior to mission work around the world.
Twenty percent of what comes in . . . goes out.
Where does it go? It goes to support missionaries in the far corners of the world, and missionaries to African and Hmong immigrants right here in Milwaukee. It goes for the education of pastors at our two seminaries, and it goes for the education of little children with autism right here in Milwaukee through Lutheran Special School and Education Services. That twenty percent also goes to support ministry to university students in Milwaukee, and to support people with special needs at Bethesda in Watertown. It goes for the translations of Catechisms and other theological books through Lutheran Heritage Foundation, for broadcasts of “Issues, Etc.” on the worldwide web, and it helps expectant mothers choose life instead of abortion at A Place of Refuge.
I could go on for another paragraph or two, but you get the point. Most churches struggle to send off even five or six percent of their offerings to missions. Our Savior sends off twenty percent of our offerings right out the door—not for the organ, not for salaries or supplies or roof repair, but to spread the good news of Jesus Christ in word and deed to a dying a world.
Why is this the case at Our Savior? Why twenty percent here instead of five percent? Why one out of five dollars instead of one out of ten? That’s what I’m here to tell you. But be prepared; because the reason why is not what you might expect.
It was a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd that came seeking the Savior in a solitary place that day by the Sea of Galilee. It’s the feeding of the “five thousand” to be sure, but to be accurate it should be called the feeding of the five thousand men, plus the women and the children. Add up five thousand men, an equal number of women, plus two children for every couple, and you’ve got yourself a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd. But then again, you know this story well, I’m sure. After all, it’s the one miracle of Jesus that gets recorded in all four of the Gospels.
For Jesus, it was a long day of healing the sick in that remote place, but as the day wore on, the disciples’ concerns were more practical: People were hungry and there was no food. It was a sensible thing to be worried about. The disciples suggested that Jesus should tell the people, “That’s all there is for today folks. Time to go home and get a bite to eat. Good night, everybody!” It would have made perfectly good sense to do that.
What didn’t make any sense was when Jesus told His disciples, “You give them something to eat.” After a few minutes of counting, all they could come up with were five loaves
and two fish. Try dividing that up among a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd! It just won’t work. But note carefully what happens next. Jesus asks the disciples to give Him the loaves and fish. Jesus receives what they offer. He has the people sit down on the grass along the lakeshore. (Kind of like Klode Park on the Fourth of July.) Jesus blesses the loaves and fish. He then gives them to the disciples, and the disciples give them to the people. And in the end the whole crowd eats and is satisfied. Jesus took a meager offering of loaves and fish and made a miraculous meal with twelve baskets full of leftovers. In Jesus what is meager, becomes miraculous.
The feeding of the five thousand is a teaching moment, for sure. Jesus is dropping some pretty significant hints that He is the Messiah, the Good Shepherd of Israel who feeds His people in green, grassy pastures, beside the still waters, who prepares a table before them with more than enough food for everyone, from greatest to least.
But for us here today, who already know and believe that Jesus is the Messiah—well, Jesus is teaching us too. Notice the details of what’s going on. Jesus tells the disciples, “You give them something to eat.” On the surface it sounded like nonsense. It would be as if I drove down to Miller Park and shouted out to the Brewers on the field, “You win the division. You go to the World Series!” It’s a nice thought. But meager batting averages and sub-par relief pitching can only get you so far. Just like five loaves and two fish can only feed so many people.
But did you notice what the disciples did with those loaves and fish? They gave them to Jesus—placed them in the Savior’s hands. And in the Savior’s hands what happened? Their meager portions are miraculously multiplied! And then Jesus enables His disciples to do the very thing which moments earlier had sounded like nonsense. The disciples gave the people—all of them—something to eat. In the hands of Jesus what was very little became more than enough. The meager became miraculous.
In Jesus Christ, still today, the meager becomes miraculous. The impossible is accomplished. The unlikely is achieved. But you and I are like the disciples in so many ways. We’re too busy counting our fishes and loaves to notice what Jesus is doing. And with our fishes and our loaves we always want to do what’s sensible. Remember, the sensible suggestion of the disciples was simply to send everybody home—to call it a day and let everybody fend for themselves.
In truth, our dilemma doesn’t concern fishes and loaves; we’ve got more than enough to eat. Our cup runneth over. For disciples today the dilemma is over dollars and cents. And the sensible thing when it comes to dollars and cents is to hold onto those dollars and cents—in our own two hands. In our hands, you see, we control the inflows and outflows. We parcel them out where we see fit. In our hands we do the investing. And best of all, when our dollars and cents are in our hands, we can see them. Dollars and cents look good in our hands! We can feel secure and safe and successful with those dollars and cents in our hands. (And that’s important when you’re hanging out in a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd!)
But when you place your dollars and cents into the Savior’s hands—when you give back to the Lord a percentage gift of ten or maybe even twenty percent of what He’s given you—well, Jesus shows you today what can happen. The meager becomes miraculous. In the Savior’s hands our meager offerings are multiplied for the good of the whole world—for the whole Christian Church on earth. And in the end, there’s even more leftover.
This is why. This is why one of every five dollars goes directly out the doors of this church. This is why twenty percent of your offering can accomplish great things around the world. It’s not because this congregation has been blessed with wealthy members for 75 years. It’s not that we’ve cut corners and done things on the cheap and robbed Peter to pay Paul. It’s because for 75 years the forgiven sinners of Our Savior have placed their meager offerings into the hands of Jesus—full of faith and hope and love—and in Jesus there has been a miraculous multiplication which can’t even begin to be measured in fishes and loaves or in dollars and cents—and which will not be seen in full until we are all gathered around the throne of our gracious God in heaven, singing "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain."
What will you do with your fishes and loaves—with your dollars and cents? Will you do what’s sensible and reasonable and hold onto them and enjoy the temporary comfort and status they provide? Or will you in faith place them in the hands of Jesus? Those hands, of course, are now scarred with the marks of nails. Those nails were placed there for you—so that you would not receive what you are owed for your sins. There at the cross Jesus was for you with a love that did not count the cost. You see, Jesus doesn’t parcel out His love in little increments, based upon what you deserve. No, Jesus pours out His love in a way that is not sensible or logical—but prodigal and wasteful and lavish, with basketfuls left over!
The blood that Jesus shed on the cross is also poured out for you here today in the Sacrament of the Altar. The Good Shepherd who gave His life for the sheep, also gives us the bread that is His body. He prepares a table before us in the presence of our enemies. With these meager portions of bread and wine the Lord Jesus miraculously feeds you with His body and blood for your forgiveness—for your eternal good.
The feeding of the five thousand teaches us that the distance from meager to miraculous is no farther than the outstretched hands of Jesus. If you leave here today only thinking that this is a story about Jesus feeding lots of hungry people, then you’ve missed the point. If you leave here today thinking that Jesus is a means to get rich quick and have your dollars miraculously multiplied, then you’ve missed the point. If you leave here today thinking that you yourself should head off and feed five thousand hungry people just like Jesus, then you’ve missed the point.
But if you leave here today believing that five out of every five dollars you have are from Jesus—if you leave here today believing that the forgiveness of your sins totals a whopping one hundred percent—if you leave here today believing that Jesus can receive from you what is meager and then do the miraculous for His church and for the whole wide world—then you will know what the feeding of the five thousand is all about. Amen.
St. Matthew 14:13-21
August 3, 2008
Pentecost 12A-Proper 13
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
It’s no secret. But I suspect that a majority of people here today don’t know it. It’s one of the most extraordinary things about our congregation. You’d have to look long and hard to find another congregation that can “out-do” us in this particular area. Here’s what you might not know, but should: One of every five dollars given to our Lord in weekly offerings at Our Savior is given away by Our Savior to mission work around the world.
Twenty percent of what comes in . . . goes out.
Where does it go? It goes to support missionaries in the far corners of the world, and missionaries to African and Hmong immigrants right here in Milwaukee. It goes for the education of pastors at our two seminaries, and it goes for the education of little children with autism right here in Milwaukee through Lutheran Special School and Education Services. That twenty percent also goes to support ministry to university students in Milwaukee, and to support people with special needs at Bethesda in Watertown. It goes for the translations of Catechisms and other theological books through Lutheran Heritage Foundation, for broadcasts of “Issues, Etc.” on the worldwide web, and it helps expectant mothers choose life instead of abortion at A Place of Refuge.
I could go on for another paragraph or two, but you get the point. Most churches struggle to send off even five or six percent of their offerings to missions. Our Savior sends off twenty percent of our offerings right out the door—not for the organ, not for salaries or supplies or roof repair, but to spread the good news of Jesus Christ in word and deed to a dying a world.
Why is this the case at Our Savior? Why twenty percent here instead of five percent? Why one out of five dollars instead of one out of ten? That’s what I’m here to tell you. But be prepared; because the reason why is not what you might expect.
It was a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd that came seeking the Savior in a solitary place that day by the Sea of Galilee. It’s the feeding of the “five thousand” to be sure, but to be accurate it should be called the feeding of the five thousand men, plus the women and the children. Add up five thousand men, an equal number of women, plus two children for every couple, and you’ve got yourself a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd. But then again, you know this story well, I’m sure. After all, it’s the one miracle of Jesus that gets recorded in all four of the Gospels.
For Jesus, it was a long day of healing the sick in that remote place, but as the day wore on, the disciples’ concerns were more practical: People were hungry and there was no food. It was a sensible thing to be worried about. The disciples suggested that Jesus should tell the people, “That’s all there is for today folks. Time to go home and get a bite to eat. Good night, everybody!” It would have made perfectly good sense to do that.
What didn’t make any sense was when Jesus told His disciples, “You give them something to eat.” After a few minutes of counting, all they could come up with were five loaves
and two fish. Try dividing that up among a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd! It just won’t work. But note carefully what happens next. Jesus asks the disciples to give Him the loaves and fish. Jesus receives what they offer. He has the people sit down on the grass along the lakeshore. (Kind of like Klode Park on the Fourth of July.) Jesus blesses the loaves and fish. He then gives them to the disciples, and the disciples give them to the people. And in the end the whole crowd eats and is satisfied. Jesus took a meager offering of loaves and fish and made a miraculous meal with twelve baskets full of leftovers. In Jesus what is meager, becomes miraculous.The feeding of the five thousand is a teaching moment, for sure. Jesus is dropping some pretty significant hints that He is the Messiah, the Good Shepherd of Israel who feeds His people in green, grassy pastures, beside the still waters, who prepares a table before them with more than enough food for everyone, from greatest to least.
But for us here today, who already know and believe that Jesus is the Messiah—well, Jesus is teaching us too. Notice the details of what’s going on. Jesus tells the disciples, “You give them something to eat.” On the surface it sounded like nonsense. It would be as if I drove down to Miller Park and shouted out to the Brewers on the field, “You win the division. You go to the World Series!” It’s a nice thought. But meager batting averages and sub-par relief pitching can only get you so far. Just like five loaves and two fish can only feed so many people.
But did you notice what the disciples did with those loaves and fish? They gave them to Jesus—placed them in the Savior’s hands. And in the Savior’s hands what happened? Their meager portions are miraculously multiplied! And then Jesus enables His disciples to do the very thing which moments earlier had sounded like nonsense. The disciples gave the people—all of them—something to eat. In the hands of Jesus what was very little became more than enough. The meager became miraculous.
In Jesus Christ, still today, the meager becomes miraculous. The impossible is accomplished. The unlikely is achieved. But you and I are like the disciples in so many ways. We’re too busy counting our fishes and loaves to notice what Jesus is doing. And with our fishes and our loaves we always want to do what’s sensible. Remember, the sensible suggestion of the disciples was simply to send everybody home—to call it a day and let everybody fend for themselves.
In truth, our dilemma doesn’t concern fishes and loaves; we’ve got more than enough to eat. Our cup runneth over. For disciples today the dilemma is over dollars and cents. And the sensible thing when it comes to dollars and cents is to hold onto those dollars and cents—in our own two hands. In our hands, you see, we control the inflows and outflows. We parcel them out where we see fit. In our hands we do the investing. And best of all, when our dollars and cents are in our hands, we can see them. Dollars and cents look good in our hands! We can feel secure and safe and successful with those dollars and cents in our hands. (And that’s important when you’re hanging out in a Whitefish Bay-sized crowd!)
But when you place your dollars and cents into the Savior’s hands—when you give back to the Lord a percentage gift of ten or maybe even twenty percent of what He’s given you—well, Jesus shows you today what can happen. The meager becomes miraculous. In the Savior’s hands our meager offerings are multiplied for the good of the whole world—for the whole Christian Church on earth. And in the end, there’s even more leftover.
This is why. This is why one of every five dollars goes directly out the doors of this church. This is why twenty percent of your offering can accomplish great things around the world. It’s not because this congregation has been blessed with wealthy members for 75 years. It’s not that we’ve cut corners and done things on the cheap and robbed Peter to pay Paul. It’s because for 75 years the forgiven sinners of Our Savior have placed their meager offerings into the hands of Jesus—full of faith and hope and love—and in Jesus there has been a miraculous multiplication which can’t even begin to be measured in fishes and loaves or in dollars and cents—and which will not be seen in full until we are all gathered around the throne of our gracious God in heaven, singing "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain."
What will you do with your fishes and loaves—with your dollars and cents? Will you do what’s sensible and reasonable and hold onto them and enjoy the temporary comfort and status they provide? Or will you in faith place them in the hands of Jesus? Those hands, of course, are now scarred with the marks of nails. Those nails were placed there for you—so that you would not receive what you are owed for your sins. There at the cross Jesus was for you with a love that did not count the cost. You see, Jesus doesn’t parcel out His love in little increments, based upon what you deserve. No, Jesus pours out His love in a way that is not sensible or logical—but prodigal and wasteful and lavish, with basketfuls left over!
The blood that Jesus shed on the cross is also poured out for you here today in the Sacrament of the Altar. The Good Shepherd who gave His life for the sheep, also gives us the bread that is His body. He prepares a table before us in the presence of our enemies. With these meager portions of bread and wine the Lord Jesus miraculously feeds you with His body and blood for your forgiveness—for your eternal good.
The feeding of the five thousand teaches us that the distance from meager to miraculous is no farther than the outstretched hands of Jesus. If you leave here today only thinking that this is a story about Jesus feeding lots of hungry people, then you’ve missed the point. If you leave here today thinking that Jesus is a means to get rich quick and have your dollars miraculously multiplied, then you’ve missed the point. If you leave here today thinking that you yourself should head off and feed five thousand hungry people just like Jesus, then you’ve missed the point.
But if you leave here today believing that five out of every five dollars you have are from Jesus—if you leave here today believing that the forgiveness of your sins totals a whopping one hundred percent—if you leave here today believing that Jesus can receive from you what is meager and then do the miraculous for His church and for the whole wide world—then you will know what the feeding of the five thousand is all about. Amen.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Living with and Loving Weeds
In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
July 20, 2008
Pentecost 10A-Proper 11
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
How does your garden grow? I’m glad to report that my garden is doing quite w
ell. The green bean harvest has begun. And if present trends continue, we’ll be up to our elbows in zucchini by this time next week. This has been an exceptionally good year for my garden—plenty of moisture and plenty of sunshine. I’ve outfoxed the rabbits, and the bugs have bugged out.
St. Matthew 13:24-30, 36-43
July 20, 2008
Pentecost 10A-Proper 11
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
How does your garden grow? I’m glad to report that my garden is doing quite w
ell. The green bean harvest has begun. And if present trends continue, we’ll be up to our elbows in zucchini by this time next week. This has been an exceptionally good year for my garden—plenty of moisture and plenty of sunshine. I’ve outfoxed the rabbits, and the bugs have bugged out.But weeds—well, weeds are a perennial problem. The battle is ongoing. There are no vegetable gardens with only vegetables—no flower gardens with only flowers. No grain fields with only grain. The weeds are always there too. I still go after weeds the old fashioned way: I pull them and I whack them with my garden hoe. But if you were to inspect my garden closely, you’d find that the weeds are thriving right up next to the bean stalks—right beside the eggplants—just inside the tomato cages—there, in closest proximity to my productive plants are the weeds. You see, I can’t whack those weeds without also whacking the precious plants next to them. And so I have learned to live with those weeds, not wanting to damage the nearby vegetables.
Weeds have always been a problem; and in today’s Gospel reading Jesus spins out a parable based on the perennial problem of weeds. In this parable, “all the world is God’s own field.” And in this field the Son of Man goes about sowing His good seed. But this very same field—the very same furrows—are tainted, defiled, and contaminated by a weed-sowing enemy. This enemy is the devil, and he’s bold and brazen in his ability to produce weeds in God’s field.
This is the first point that Jesus makes in this parable: Wherever the good seed of God’s Word is preached and planted, right there the devil is lurking in the shadows, waiting to work over the very same soil with a noxious array of bad seed. Always, without fail, right alongside the Word of God something else—something undesirable—is also growing up. The seeds of sin and unbelief are being mixed and mingled and planted right alongside the good, faith-producing seed of God’s Word.
This means that even right here in this holy house, among those who offer here their worship and praise, right here and now the devil is also sowing his seeds of sin and unbelief. It’s not just in bars and brothels that the demonic enemies of God scatter their seeds. No, they would much rather sow the ground between pulpit and pew, in seminaries and synodical conventions. Whenever and wherever the good seed of God’s Word is being sown, there you can be sure that the devil is sowing his seed too.
Martin Luther saw this truth at work throughout the whole history of the church. Wherever the pure gospel was preached and sown, there the devil raised up wicked men to oppose it. Luther laid out the evidence of the devil’s weedy work in a sermon on this very text. He said: “Angels become devils. One of the apostles betrayed Christ. Christians become heretics. Out of the [OT] people of God came the wicked men who nailed Christ to the cross. So it happens still [today]” (Day by Day, p.83). What happens? Weeds happen! Wherever God’s garden grows, the devil is also cultivating a crop of corruption.
The surprise of this parable—the thing that gets the gardener in me—is that God tolerates the weeds! When the indignant servants in the parable ask permission to pull up the weeds, the Master says, “No. Because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest.” The weeds in God’s garden will not be pulled. No herbicides will be applied. The weeds are tolerated for now. They are allowed to grow until the Day of Harvest. I ask you, what kind of a gardener—what kind of a farmer—could ever have such a high degree of weed tolerance? Or to put the horticultural in theological terms, why does God allow evil and sin and temptation to sprout up right alongside goodness and righteousness? Why does God permit the ungodly and the wicked to grow and thrive right next to the righteous? Why is the garden of our God not neatly manicured, but strewn with dandelions and thistles?
Beloved in the Lord, this is how God’s garden grows: It grows with the devil’s weeds and the Savior’s fruitful vines intermingled and tangled up. And sometimes, you can’t tell what’s what and who’s who. If nothing else, this shows our God’s incredible patience for sinners—that He wants all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. Unlike some other religions of the world which have no toleration—which teach and preach hatred and death to the infidels—your God is patient, not wanting anyone to perish—but for all to come to repentance and faith. He says, “Let the weeds grow too.”
Jesus Christ is the reason for God’s weed-friendly ways. You see, in Jesus alone is the power to transform the worst of weeds into the most fruitful branches of the living vine. In Jesus, what is the vilest weed today could be the saintliest child of God tomorrow. Jesus has died for all. In Him God was reconciling the whole world of weeds to Himself, not counting our sins against us. Instead, the Savior bore those sins in His body on the cross. Jesus, the sinless Son of God, became like a giant weed Himself, carrying the noxious sins of the entire weed-infested world. And God the Father cut down that sin-bearing weed. He was put to death for our trespasses and was raised again for our justification. He was put to death and raised again so that sinners and unbelievers and the worst of all weeds might one day shine like the sun in the Father’s glorious kingdom.
This just leaves one question: What should we do with the weeds for now? What should we do about the people who by all appearances have separated themselves from Jesus and His church? What should we do with the weeds? It’s clear that God tolerates them. It’s clear that it’s not our job to consign some to hell and others to heaven. God and His angels will handle that at the end of the age. Nor is it right for us to condone their sin in any way. For now, God simply calls us to throw the doors of the church wide open, to give all men and women the chance to hear the Word of the Gospel and take it to heart. Because in hearing that Word is the power to transform the worst of weeds into living branches of the true vine, Jesus Christ.
Before you leave here today, I want you to think of the weeds in your life—the people you know who for all intents and purposes are not growing in the grace of Jesus Christ—people who manifest a spirit that is not the Holy Spirit. Maybe there are weeds among your co-workers, among your friends, among your family. The message of the Scriptures concerning these souls is not just a message of toleration, but of love. God calls us not just to live with the weeds—not only to tolerate them—but to love them. The great writer Dostoevski said that “to love a person means to see him as God intended him to be.” Don’t see the weeds for what they are today; see them as what God intends them to be—see them for what they can be in Christ. In the garden of our God, there is not one living soul for whom we cannot hope and pray. There is not one soul in whom the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ cannot do miraculous, life-changing things. We ourselves can testify to that.
Today you and I—we’re growing in the garden of our gracious God. The seed of His Word has taken root in you. You’ve been watered in the gentle splash of Holy Baptism. There are weeds all around. But the day will come when there will be a separation—when those who reject God’s free grace in Jesus Christ will be cast into eternal fire, and when those covered in the righteousness of Christ will shine like the sun in the Father’s eternal kingdom. Regarding that final separation, the German theologian Helmut Thielicke wrote this: “The last judgment is full of surprises. The separation of the sheep and the goats, of wheat and weeds will be made in a way completely different from that which we permit ourselves to imagine. For God is more merciful than we are, [God is] more strict than we are, and [God is] more knowing than we are. And, in every case, God is greater than our hearts” (p.82).
He who has ears, let him hear. Amen.
Weeds have always been a problem; and in today’s Gospel reading Jesus spins out a parable based on the perennial problem of weeds. In this parable, “all the world is God’s own field.” And in this field the Son of Man goes about sowing His good seed. But this very same field—the very same furrows—are tainted, defiled, and contaminated by a weed-sowing enemy. This enemy is the devil, and he’s bold and brazen in his ability to produce weeds in God’s field.
This is the first point that Jesus makes in this parable: Wherever the good seed of God’s Word is preached and planted, right there the devil is lurking in the shadows, waiting to work over the very same soil with a noxious array of bad seed. Always, without fail, right alongside the Word of God something else—something undesirable—is also growing up. The seeds of sin and unbelief are being mixed and mingled and planted right alongside the good, faith-producing seed of God’s Word.
This means that even right here in this holy house, among those who offer here their worship and praise, right here and now the devil is also sowing his seeds of sin and unbelief. It’s not just in bars and brothels that the demonic enemies of God scatter their seeds. No, they would much rather sow the ground between pulpit and pew, in seminaries and synodical conventions. Whenever and wherever the good seed of God’s Word is being sown, there you can be sure that the devil is sowing his seed too.
Martin Luther saw this truth at work throughout the whole history of the church. Wherever the pure gospel was preached and sown, there the devil raised up wicked men to oppose it. Luther laid out the evidence of the devil’s weedy work in a sermon on this very text. He said: “Angels become devils. One of the apostles betrayed Christ. Christians become heretics. Out of the [OT] people of God came the wicked men who nailed Christ to the cross. So it happens still [today]” (Day by Day, p.83). What happens? Weeds happen! Wherever God’s garden grows, the devil is also cultivating a crop of corruption.
The surprise of this parable—the thing that gets the gardener in me—is that God tolerates the weeds! When the indignant servants in the parable ask permission to pull up the weeds, the Master says, “No. Because while you are pulling the weeds, you may root up the wheat with them. Let both grow together until the harvest.” The weeds in God’s garden will not be pulled. No herbicides will be applied. The weeds are tolerated for now. They are allowed to grow until the Day of Harvest. I ask you, what kind of a gardener—what kind of a farmer—could ever have such a high degree of weed tolerance? Or to put the horticultural in theological terms, why does God allow evil and sin and temptation to sprout up right alongside goodness and righteousness? Why does God permit the ungodly and the wicked to grow and thrive right next to the righteous? Why is the garden of our God not neatly manicured, but strewn with dandelions and thistles?
Beloved in the Lord, this is how God’s garden grows: It grows with the devil’s weeds and the Savior’s fruitful vines intermingled and tangled up. And sometimes, you can’t tell what’s what and who’s who. If nothing else, this shows our God’s incredible patience for sinners—that He wants all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth. Unlike some other religions of the world which have no toleration—which teach and preach hatred and death to the infidels—your God is patient, not wanting anyone to perish—but for all to come to repentance and faith. He says, “Let the weeds grow too.”
Jesus Christ is the reason for God’s weed-friendly ways. You see, in Jesus alone is the power to transform the worst of weeds into the most fruitful branches of the living vine. In Jesus, what is the vilest weed today could be the saintliest child of God tomorrow. Jesus has died for all. In Him God was reconciling the whole world of weeds to Himself, not counting our sins against us. Instead, the Savior bore those sins in His body on the cross. Jesus, the sinless Son of God, became like a giant weed Himself, carrying the noxious sins of the entire weed-infested world. And God the Father cut down that sin-bearing weed. He was put to death for our trespasses and was raised again for our justification. He was put to death and raised again so that sinners and unbelievers and the worst of all weeds might one day shine like the sun in the Father’s glorious kingdom.
This just leaves one question: What should we do with the weeds for now? What should we do about the people who by all appearances have separated themselves from Jesus and His church? What should we do with the weeds? It’s clear that God tolerates them. It’s clear that it’s not our job to consign some to hell and others to heaven. God and His angels will handle that at the end of the age. Nor is it right for us to condone their sin in any way. For now, God simply calls us to throw the doors of the church wide open, to give all men and women the chance to hear the Word of the Gospel and take it to heart. Because in hearing that Word is the power to transform the worst of weeds into living branches of the true vine, Jesus Christ.
Before you leave here today, I want you to think of the weeds in your life—the people you know who for all intents and purposes are not growing in the grace of Jesus Christ—people who manifest a spirit that is not the Holy Spirit. Maybe there are weeds among your co-workers, among your friends, among your family. The message of the Scriptures concerning these souls is not just a message of toleration, but of love. God calls us not just to live with the weeds—not only to tolerate them—but to love them. The great writer Dostoevski said that “to love a person means to see him as God intended him to be.” Don’t see the weeds for what they are today; see them as what God intends them to be—see them for what they can be in Christ. In the garden of our God, there is not one living soul for whom we cannot hope and pray. There is not one soul in whom the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ cannot do miraculous, life-changing things. We ourselves can testify to that.
Today you and I—we’re growing in the garden of our gracious God. The seed of His Word has taken root in you. You’ve been watered in the gentle splash of Holy Baptism. There are weeds all around. But the day will come when there will be a separation—when those who reject God’s free grace in Jesus Christ will be cast into eternal fire, and when those covered in the righteousness of Christ will shine like the sun in the Father’s eternal kingdom. Regarding that final separation, the German theologian Helmut Thielicke wrote this: “The last judgment is full of surprises. The separation of the sheep and the goats, of wheat and weeds will be made in a way completely different from that which we permit ourselves to imagine. For God is more merciful than we are, [God is] more strict than we are, and [God is] more knowing than we are. And, in every case, God is greater than our hearts” (p.82).
He who has ears, let him hear. Amen.
Monday, July 14, 2008
The Sacred Simile of Precipitation
In Nomine Iesu
Isaiah 55:10-11
July 13, 2008
Pentecost 9A – Proper 10
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
For someone like me, who does lots of teaching, preaching and talking, there’s nothing better than a good simile. As any English teacher will tell you, a simile is a comparison of two different things, using the words “like” or “as.” We all use similes all the time. Here are some famous examples: “Life is like a box of chocolates,” or, “He’s as stubborn as a mule,” or, “She’s as busy as a beaver.” Yes, there’s nothing better than a good simile. In fact, here are some similes . . . of similes: A good simile is like fine wine and savory spice. A good simile is like a preacher’s best friend.
But when it comes to similes, no one does it better than our great God. Why shouldn’t the God who created the heavens and the earth using words also sprinkle in a few similes among those words? Why shouldn’t the God who creates repentance and faith with words spice up those words with a good simile now and then? In today’s Old Testament reading God gives us one of His best, most sacred similes. This simile is so rich and so full that an entire sermon can be based on it:
As the rain and snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
This is what I like to call “The Sacred Simile of Precipitation.” God’s Word is like rain and snow. God’s Word (like precipitation) is refreshing and cleansing. God’s Word (like precipitation) is growth-causing, and life-giving, and life-sustaining. Like the sprinklers and hoses you see watering lawns this time of year, our God “waters” the world with His Word—the Words of the Bible, the words preached from pulpits—gospel words that proclaim the good news about Jesus Christ.
Now, as you know, rainfall and snowfall can be rather unpredictable. Sometimes we get too much. Sometimes we don’t get enough. But unlike precipitation that falls from clouds, God says about His Word: “It will not return to me empty. It will accomplish what I desire. It will achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” As God gives His Word to us, there’s never too much, never too little, always just right.
Isaiah was the prophet who first preached these words. In Isaiah chapter 55 the prophet is preaching about the future rebirth and restoration of Israel. But that rebirth and that restoration was to be a long time in coming. In fact, before that renewal would come, there would be judgment and exile, death and destruction. Bad times were ahead. Isaiah seems to be saying, “When times are tough—when everything seems to be going to hell in a hand-basket—hear the Word of the Lord. Drink in the promises of His Word. Be watered with the Word because that Word will not return empty. It will accomplish what God desires. It will achieve the purpose for which He sends it.”
Do you believe that? Do you believe that God’s Word—like raindrops from heaven—will accomplish IN YOU and in YOUR LIFE the very things that God desires? The evidence would seem to suggest that we don’t believe that. For if we truly believed that God’s Word always gets results in us, wouldn’t we want to be hearing that Word and studying that Word and reading that Word every day? If we truly believed that God’s Word accomplishes and achieves in us what God desires, wouldn’t our pews be full every Sunday? Wouldn’t our Bible studies be as well-attended as the Divine Service? Wouldn’t we want to invite someone to church with us all the time? Wouldn’t we give our offerings to the Lord joyfully and generously and confidently because the Word of God has had its way with us?
Why don’t we believe this? Why don’t our lives better reflect the power of the Word? Maybe it’s because we expect—we demand—immediate results, and we don’t get immediate results. We come to church. We hear the Word. And it seems that nothing changes. We get up in the morning. We open our Bibles. We have a time of devotion and prayer. And it seems that nothing changes. We feel no different. The same old problems and heartaches are still right there with us. And we conclude that the Word of God has failed—when in fact we have failed—failed to accept in faith that God’s results don’t always come on our timetable. God is at work in you for the long-haul—for eternity. You wouldn’t go out to your garden and plant your seeds, and then expect to enjoy juicy tomatoes and crispy cucumbers the very next day? That would be magical or miraculous. Yet somehow I think this is what we expect from the Word of God. And short of that, we’ll keep God’s Word as the last of our priorities and the least of our concerns.
Whenever God’s Word is last and least—whenever we fail to hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it—that’s sin. And that sin of ours is the worst of news. Or to put it in simile form, our sin is like a noose around our necks. Our sin is like a deadly, incurable, cancer. Our sin is like a guilty verdict that can never, ever be overturned.
There is but one thing that can remove your guilt and declare you innocent. The same Word of God that we sinfully ignore and reject—because of Jesus Christ that Word also declares that you are innocent—that you are forgiven—that you will live forever in God’s presence. The same Word that threatens us and condemns our sin is the same Word—the only Word—that sinners can believe and be saved.
Beloved in the Lord, Isaiah preached that God’s Word is like rain and snow—that it always accomplishes what God desires. And what’s true of God’s Word is especially true of God’s Son. You see, the object of our faith is not God’s Word, but God’s Son. It was that Son, Jesus, who ultimately accomplished what God desired. Jesus Christ achieved the purpose for which He was sent. Jesus Christ did not return to the Father empty-handed, but with wounded hands, and with a multitude of forgiven sinners, including you and me.
It is the blood of Jesus Christ, shed at the cross, that makes the Word of God grow—even in the hard soil of sinful human hearts. The cross of Jesus was planted high atop Calvary’s holy hill. There Jesus wore a choking crown of thorns. There Jesus was scorched by the blazing heat of His Father’s wrath against sin. There Jesus withered away to death as your sacred substitute. But God’s Word always gets the job done. God’s Word said that the Messiah would rise again on the third day, and that’s just what happened. And this was but a preview of your own resurrection life to come.
Brothers and sisters this good news—the good news that Jesus has taken away your bad and given you His good—this is what we call the gospel; and there’s absolutely nothing that compares to it. No simile can possibly get the job done. I could give it a try. I could say that the love of God in Christ is like winning the lottery. I could say that the love of God in Christ is like a cool breeze on a hot day in July. I could say that the love of God in Christ is like a box of chocolates. But none of these similes is good enough. Perhaps I should just say that the love of God in Christ is for you, and nothing in all creation compares to that good news. Amen.
Isaiah 55:10-11
July 13, 2008
Pentecost 9A – Proper 10
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
For someone like me, who does lots of teaching, preaching and talking, there’s nothing better than a good simile. As any English teacher will tell you, a simile is a comparison of two different things, using the words “like” or “as.” We all use similes all the time. Here are some famous examples: “Life is like a box of chocolates,” or, “He’s as stubborn as a mule,” or, “She’s as busy as a beaver.” Yes, there’s nothing better than a good simile. In fact, here are some similes . . . of similes: A good simile is like fine wine and savory spice. A good simile is like a preacher’s best friend.
But when it comes to similes, no one does it better than our great God. Why shouldn’t the God who created the heavens and the earth using words also sprinkle in a few similes among those words? Why shouldn’t the God who creates repentance and faith with words spice up those words with a good simile now and then? In today’s Old Testament reading God gives us one of His best, most sacred similes. This simile is so rich and so full that an entire sermon can be based on it:
As the rain and snow come down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud and flourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my word that goes out from my mouth: It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it.
This is what I like to call “The Sacred Simile of Precipitation.” God’s Word is like rain and snow. God’s Word (like precipitation) is refreshing and cleansing. God’s Word (like precipitation) is growth-causing, and life-giving, and life-sustaining. Like the sprinklers and hoses you see watering lawns this time of year, our God “waters” the world with His Word—the Words of the Bible, the words preached from pulpits—gospel words that proclaim the good news about Jesus Christ.
Now, as you know, rainfall and snowfall can be rather unpredictable. Sometimes we get too much. Sometimes we don’t get enough. But unlike precipitation that falls from clouds, God says about His Word: “It will not return to me empty. It will accomplish what I desire. It will achieve the purpose for which I sent it.” As God gives His Word to us, there’s never too much, never too little, always just right.
Isaiah was the prophet who first preached these words. In Isaiah chapter 55 the prophet is preaching about the future rebirth and restoration of Israel. But that rebirth and that restoration was to be a long time in coming. In fact, before that renewal would come, there would be judgment and exile, death and destruction. Bad times were ahead. Isaiah seems to be saying, “When times are tough—when everything seems to be going to hell in a hand-basket—hear the Word of the Lord. Drink in the promises of His Word. Be watered with the Word because that Word will not return empty. It will accomplish what God desires. It will achieve the purpose for which He sends it.”
Do you believe that? Do you believe that God’s Word—like raindrops from heaven—will accomplish IN YOU and in YOUR LIFE the very things that God desires? The evidence would seem to suggest that we don’t believe that. For if we truly believed that God’s Word always gets results in us, wouldn’t we want to be hearing that Word and studying that Word and reading that Word every day? If we truly believed that God’s Word accomplishes and achieves in us what God desires, wouldn’t our pews be full every Sunday? Wouldn’t our Bible studies be as well-attended as the Divine Service? Wouldn’t we want to invite someone to church with us all the time? Wouldn’t we give our offerings to the Lord joyfully and generously and confidently because the Word of God has had its way with us?
Why don’t we believe this? Why don’t our lives better reflect the power of the Word? Maybe it’s because we expect—we demand—immediate results, and we don’t get immediate results. We come to church. We hear the Word. And it seems that nothing changes. We get up in the morning. We open our Bibles. We have a time of devotion and prayer. And it seems that nothing changes. We feel no different. The same old problems and heartaches are still right there with us. And we conclude that the Word of God has failed—when in fact we have failed—failed to accept in faith that God’s results don’t always come on our timetable. God is at work in you for the long-haul—for eternity. You wouldn’t go out to your garden and plant your seeds, and then expect to enjoy juicy tomatoes and crispy cucumbers the very next day? That would be magical or miraculous. Yet somehow I think this is what we expect from the Word of God. And short of that, we’ll keep God’s Word as the last of our priorities and the least of our concerns.
Whenever God’s Word is last and least—whenever we fail to hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it—that’s sin. And that sin of ours is the worst of news. Or to put it in simile form, our sin is like a noose around our necks. Our sin is like a deadly, incurable, cancer. Our sin is like a guilty verdict that can never, ever be overturned.
There is but one thing that can remove your guilt and declare you innocent. The same Word of God that we sinfully ignore and reject—because of Jesus Christ that Word also declares that you are innocent—that you are forgiven—that you will live forever in God’s presence. The same Word that threatens us and condemns our sin is the same Word—the only Word—that sinners can believe and be saved.
Beloved in the Lord, Isaiah preached that God’s Word is like rain and snow—that it always accomplishes what God desires. And what’s true of God’s Word is especially true of God’s Son. You see, the object of our faith is not God’s Word, but God’s Son. It was that Son, Jesus, who ultimately accomplished what God desired. Jesus Christ achieved the purpose for which He was sent. Jesus Christ did not return to the Father empty-handed, but with wounded hands, and with a multitude of forgiven sinners, including you and me.
It is the blood of Jesus Christ, shed at the cross, that makes the Word of God grow—even in the hard soil of sinful human hearts. The cross of Jesus was planted high atop Calvary’s holy hill. There Jesus wore a choking crown of thorns. There Jesus was scorched by the blazing heat of His Father’s wrath against sin. There Jesus withered away to death as your sacred substitute. But God’s Word always gets the job done. God’s Word said that the Messiah would rise again on the third day, and that’s just what happened. And this was but a preview of your own resurrection life to come.
Brothers and sisters this good news—the good news that Jesus has taken away your bad and given you His good—this is what we call the gospel; and there’s absolutely nothing that compares to it. No simile can possibly get the job done. I could give it a try. I could say that the love of God in Christ is like winning the lottery. I could say that the love of God in Christ is like a cool breeze on a hot day in July. I could say that the love of God in Christ is like a box of chocolates. But none of these similes is good enough. Perhaps I should just say that the love of God in Christ is for you, and nothing in all creation compares to that good news. Amen.
Monday, July 7, 2008
The Yoke of Rest
In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 11:28-30
July 6, 2008
Pentecost 8A-Proper 9
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
Sometimes it happens in bed. Sometimes it happens on the sofa. This time of year it can also happen on the beach. And you can be sure it happens in the La-Z-boy recliner. What happens? Rest happens! Perhaps you could add to that list of rest-full locations. Then, of course, there are places where we don’t expect to find rest: on the job, in the lawn or garden, sitting in the classroom. Those are places where work is going on. Rest and work are different things that usually happen in different places.
This is why Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel might sound somewhat confusing. When Jesus says, “Come to me . . . and I will give you rest,” that sounds great. But then He goes on to say, “Take my yoke upon you . . .” Now, this sounds like a contradiction because putting on a yoke indicates that there’s work to be done, not rest to be given. How can Jesus promise to give rest to the weary, and in the next breath tell the weary to put on his yoke? Yokes are for work, not for rest.
But let’s back up for a second. When I was growing up, the only time I heard the work “yolk” was to describe the yellow part of an egg. Of course, that’s yolk spelled Y-O-L-K. Jesus, however, is describing a yoke, spelled Y-O-K-E—an implement that was used to bind and control animals. Back in the old days, horses and oxen were yoked to pull a plow in the field. The yoke kept the beasts of burden from running off when there was work to be done. The yoke was used to control and direct the hard-working animals.
But in ancient times it wasn’t just animals that were yoked. People—slaves—often wore a yoke to show that they were under the authority of their master. Most often, instead of wearing an actual yoke, they would wear something around their neck or ankle to indicate their slave status. Incidentally, that’s the origin of the necklaces that many of you are wearing today. What used to symbolize the yoke of slavery is today a fashion statement. The same thing was true for rings worn around the finger. In fact, even today a wedding ring symbolizes that husband and wife are yoked to one another.
The point of all this is simply to show that the yoke was a sign of work; not a sign of rest. How strange, then, that Jesus should make this promise: “Take my yoke upon you . . . and you will find rest . . .” But how can a yoke—even a “light” yoke—help us find rest for our souls?
It doesn’t make sense, but this is exactly what Jesus promises you. In wearing His yoke—in submitting yourself to Him in faith—you will find rest for your soul. You can’t earn this rest by your good behavior. You can’t buy this rest with your wealth. Jesus says, “Come to me and I will give you rest.” Wearing the yoke of Jesus means that your life is controlled and directed by Him. He’s the One holding the leash—pulling the reigns. Your life is bound to Christ as a bride is bound to her groom. Wearing the yoke of Jesus means walking in His ways, delighting in His will, keeping His commands.
But the problem is we’re sinners. We’re not interested in yoke-wearing or cross-bearing. We don’t care to be in submission to Jesus or anyone else for that matter. We’ll gladly take the rest that Jesus promises; but we’ll just as gladly leave the yoke-wearing and cross-bearing for somebody else. When you’re not wearing the yoke of Jesus it means that you’re living your life on your terms. Instead of faithfully receiving the rest that Jesus gives, we go looking for the rest and relaxation that money can buy—and money and buying and earnings—they become the yoke around our necks. When you’re not wearing the yoke of Jesus it means that you can wander off wherever you please—looking for cheap thrills online, or pursuing the recklessness that comes from drunkenness. When you’re not wearing the yoke of Jesus—when you’re not submitting to Jesus and His Word—it means that you want others to submit to you and you’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen—even if you have to say some things that really shouldn’t be said.
Beloved in the Lord, it’s all a lie. Apart from Jesus and His yoke, we may have the desire to do what is good, but we cannot carry it out. And the evil that we don’t want to do—these are the very things we keep on doing. You need to be yoked to Jesus. Because this is how it works: either you’re yoked to Jesus, submitting to Him, allowing Him to guide and direct you by faith; OR ELSE you’re yoked to your sins, submitting to them, allowing them to guide and direct you to a place where you will be forever “free” of Jesus.
To all of us so worn and weary of our sin, Jesus gives the invitation: “Come to me . . . and I will give you rest. My yoke is easy and my burden is light and you—you will find rest for your souls.” Are you weary and burdened by your sin? Have you slipped out of the yoke of Jesus one too many times to follow your own sinful desires? Jesus wants you take His yoke again, and learn from Him. Learn what it means that He’s gentle and humble in heart. Learn what it means that only Jesus is able to rescue us from this body of death.
This past week I read of a Sunday school teacher who read to her class the words of Jesus where He says, “My yoke is easy.” The teacher then asked her class, “Who can tell me what a yoke is?” One little boy said, “It’s something you put on the necks of animals.” Then the teacher asked, “What is the yoke that God puts on us?” To which one little girl responded, “It’s God putting His arms around our necks.” She viewed the yoke of Jesus . . . as a hug from Jesus. She knew that wearing that yoke is not a burden, but a blessing. She knew that wearing the yoke of Jesus means living each day knowing that the Savior has placed His arms of love and forgiveness around our necks.
The arms of Jesus which are holding you today in love—those arms have carried a burden that was not easy. Jesus bore a yoke that was not light. In fact, the Greek word for “yoke” is also used for the crossbeam which Jesus took up and carried to the place of His execution (ABD, vol.6, “yoke”). Because Jesus has carried that yoke—the burden of your sin and death—today He invites you to take up His yoke of rest and forgiveness and life.
“Come to me,” says the Savior, “all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Beloved in the Lord, this is the place where weary and burdened sinners can come to Jesus. This is the place where Jesus gives you rest, peace, forgiveness and hope. In fact, Martin Luther in the Large Catechism, wrote that the words, “Come to me and I will give you rest” are nothing more than an invitation to the Lord’s Supper—to receive the body and blood of Jesus—to have the burden of your sin taken away. Here at this altar Jesus lightens your burden with His forgiveness. Here at this altar Jesus puts His arms of love right around your neck.
The yoke of Jesus gives you rest. When you’re wearing that yoke it means that Jesus is running the show—Jesus is directing your life—Jesus is leading you to heaven. He carried His cross so that you can wear His yoke. He’s done the work and you get the rest. Amen.
St. Matthew 11:28-30
July 6, 2008
Pentecost 8A-Proper 9
Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
Sometimes it happens in bed. Sometimes it happens on the sofa. This time of year it can also happen on the beach. And you can be sure it happens in the La-Z-boy recliner. What happens? Rest happens! Perhaps you could add to that list of rest-full locations. Then, of course, there are places where we don’t expect to find rest: on the job, in the lawn or garden, sitting in the classroom. Those are places where work is going on. Rest and work are different things that usually happen in different places.
This is why Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel might sound somewhat confusing. When Jesus says, “Come to me . . . and I will give you rest,” that sounds great. But then He goes on to say, “Take my yoke upon you . . .” Now, this sounds like a contradiction because putting on a yoke indicates that there’s work to be done, not rest to be given. How can Jesus promise to give rest to the weary, and in the next breath tell the weary to put on his yoke? Yokes are for work, not for rest.
But let’s back up for a second. When I was growing up, the only time I heard the work “yolk” was to describe the yellow part of an egg. Of course, that’s yolk spelled Y-O-L-K. Jesus, however, is describing a yoke, spelled Y-O-K-E—an implement that was used to bind and control animals. Back in the old days, horses and oxen were yoked to pull a plow in the field. The yoke kept the beasts of burden from running off when there was work to be done. The yoke was used to control and direct the hard-working animals.
But in ancient times it wasn’t just animals that were yoked. People—slaves—often wore a yoke to show that they were under the authority of their master. Most often, instead of wearing an actual yoke, they would wear something around their neck or ankle to indicate their slave status. Incidentally, that’s the origin of the necklaces that many of you are wearing today. What used to symbolize the yoke of slavery is today a fashion statement. The same thing was true for rings worn around the finger. In fact, even today a wedding ring symbolizes that husband and wife are yoked to one another.
The point of all this is simply to show that the yoke was a sign of work; not a sign of rest. How strange, then, that Jesus should make this promise: “Take my yoke upon you . . . and you will find rest . . .” But how can a yoke—even a “light” yoke—help us find rest for our souls?
It doesn’t make sense, but this is exactly what Jesus promises you. In wearing His yoke—in submitting yourself to Him in faith—you will find rest for your soul. You can’t earn this rest by your good behavior. You can’t buy this rest with your wealth. Jesus says, “Come to me and I will give you rest.” Wearing the yoke of Jesus means that your life is controlled and directed by Him. He’s the One holding the leash—pulling the reigns. Your life is bound to Christ as a bride is bound to her groom. Wearing the yoke of Jesus means walking in His ways, delighting in His will, keeping His commands.
But the problem is we’re sinners. We’re not interested in yoke-wearing or cross-bearing. We don’t care to be in submission to Jesus or anyone else for that matter. We’ll gladly take the rest that Jesus promises; but we’ll just as gladly leave the yoke-wearing and cross-bearing for somebody else. When you’re not wearing the yoke of Jesus it means that you’re living your life on your terms. Instead of faithfully receiving the rest that Jesus gives, we go looking for the rest and relaxation that money can buy—and money and buying and earnings—they become the yoke around our necks. When you’re not wearing the yoke of Jesus it means that you can wander off wherever you please—looking for cheap thrills online, or pursuing the recklessness that comes from drunkenness. When you’re not wearing the yoke of Jesus—when you’re not submitting to Jesus and His Word—it means that you want others to submit to you and you’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen—even if you have to say some things that really shouldn’t be said.
Beloved in the Lord, it’s all a lie. Apart from Jesus and His yoke, we may have the desire to do what is good, but we cannot carry it out. And the evil that we don’t want to do—these are the very things we keep on doing. You need to be yoked to Jesus. Because this is how it works: either you’re yoked to Jesus, submitting to Him, allowing Him to guide and direct you by faith; OR ELSE you’re yoked to your sins, submitting to them, allowing them to guide and direct you to a place where you will be forever “free” of Jesus.
To all of us so worn and weary of our sin, Jesus gives the invitation: “Come to me . . . and I will give you rest. My yoke is easy and my burden is light and you—you will find rest for your souls.” Are you weary and burdened by your sin? Have you slipped out of the yoke of Jesus one too many times to follow your own sinful desires? Jesus wants you take His yoke again, and learn from Him. Learn what it means that He’s gentle and humble in heart. Learn what it means that only Jesus is able to rescue us from this body of death.
This past week I read of a Sunday school teacher who read to her class the words of Jesus where He says, “My yoke is easy.” The teacher then asked her class, “Who can tell me what a yoke is?” One little boy said, “It’s something you put on the necks of animals.” Then the teacher asked, “What is the yoke that God puts on us?” To which one little girl responded, “It’s God putting His arms around our necks.” She viewed the yoke of Jesus . . . as a hug from Jesus. She knew that wearing that yoke is not a burden, but a blessing. She knew that wearing the yoke of Jesus means living each day knowing that the Savior has placed His arms of love and forgiveness around our necks.
The arms of Jesus which are holding you today in love—those arms have carried a burden that was not easy. Jesus bore a yoke that was not light. In fact, the Greek word for “yoke” is also used for the crossbeam which Jesus took up and carried to the place of His execution (ABD, vol.6, “yoke”). Because Jesus has carried that yoke—the burden of your sin and death—today He invites you to take up His yoke of rest and forgiveness and life.
“Come to me,” says the Savior, “all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” Beloved in the Lord, this is the place where weary and burdened sinners can come to Jesus. This is the place where Jesus gives you rest, peace, forgiveness and hope. In fact, Martin Luther in the Large Catechism, wrote that the words, “Come to me and I will give you rest” are nothing more than an invitation to the Lord’s Supper—to receive the body and blood of Jesus—to have the burden of your sin taken away. Here at this altar Jesus lightens your burden with His forgiveness. Here at this altar Jesus puts His arms of love right around your neck.
The yoke of Jesus gives you rest. When you’re wearing that yoke it means that Jesus is running the show—Jesus is directing your life—Jesus is leading you to heaven. He carried His cross so that you can wear His yoke. He’s done the work and you get the rest. Amen.
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