A Meditation for Election Day - Romans 13

St. Paul writes in Romans 13, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore, whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore, one must be in subjection not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience. For because of this you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God attending to this very thing. Pay to all what is owed: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed.”

Paul says governmental authority is a gift of God. Luther agreed and placed government under the category of the 4th commandment, an extension of the parental vocation by way of being God’s representative for the purpose of good order. Thus, from the top floor of the White House to the humblest civil servants, all are gifts. 

As you go to the polls today, and then wait and watch for the election results, know this: whether you like or dislike a particular candidate or official-elect, they are God’s servant and representative - even if the politician fails to recognizes it. God even uses the American voter for His purpose. Take heart; fear not. He is God; I assure you, He is in control – even when He allows things to happen that are contrary to His will.  He does care how government is run – it is His representative. He desires that it governs fairly, in justice, for good order, with eyes toward the weakest and most feeble. He desires that officials and citizens show love, mercy and compassion to each other in word and action. He uses government so that First Article blessings, such as protection and daily bread, can be administered.  What God does not care about is who resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave, or the governor’s mansion, or the mayor’s seat. He doesn’t care who has the majority in the county commissioners court or if there is more Red, Blue or Green in Congress. He uses whom He will.

You might be shaking your head. “That can’t be true; God surely doesn’t want so & so in office,” you think. Remember: Paul wrote Romans late in the first century when the Roman Empire was ruled by Nero who was considered a god. He was not just a heathen; he was wicked. He eagerly sought  and persecuted Christians by the hundreds for sport. Yet, it’s as if Paul is saying, “Even this evil man who does wicked things to his countrymen and slaughters Christians for sport is an instrument of God.”

This does raise the question of how and why God would use someone so evil and unfaithful to be His instrument to represent Him. Why would God allow a man like Nero, or Hitler, or Pol Pot, or the leader of ISIS to be in control? It’s a question whose answer is largely hidden from us and we dare not answer where the Scriptures are silent. We know this is true: “Those who abuse their God-given authority…will come under the judgement of God,” if not in this lifetime, in the life that is to come. (ROMANS II, Middendorf, p. 1300 n53, © CPH 2016). It is also true that God is at work even when hidden behind someone who is, or who appears to be, wicked and opposed to God. Under Nero’s persecution, the church scattered, taking and spreading the Good News of Jesus with them. In the Old Testament, Esther’s husband, King Cyrus, who was Persian, rescued Esther’s fellow Judean countrymen from destruction. Daniel told King Nebuchadnezzar, who vacillated back and forth in faithfulness, “The Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom He will,” (Dan. 4:25). When He was on trial, Jesus told Pilate “You would have no authority against me at all unless it had been given you from above,” (Jn 19:11). We must leave the question with this: “it’s not the wickedness of individual rulers that comes from God, but the establishment of the ruling power itself,” (Ibid, p. 1299 n50).

Christians are called to be subject to the authorities. When it’s our party, our candidate, that’s easy (or at least easier) to do; when we disagree, it’s much more difficult. Conventional wisdom says line up with signs up! Protest! Burn, loot and plunder to show our displeasure! Spread ugly stories on social media, call them names, make politics personal. Defy those in authority, urge unrest, and dare them to arrest you until you get what you want. This is the way the world operates, not how you are called to live as people of God in the world.

There is much to repent of regarding out attitude towards the government. With our words, our actions, our social media posts, with the very thoughts in our hearts and minds, we sin against these men and women whom God places in authority for His purpose. We hold anger and hatred in our hearts. We seek to ruin reputations. It is easy and it is tempting to sling mud – especially in the relative anonymity of social media. We cast aspersions on those whom we don’t like. We lust for power for “our side.” We despise the other side when they are in control. We carry those thoughts about an official or a party and transfer it to their supporters. We identify people with whom we disagree as enemies; we “hate” them. We justify ourselves: it’s just words; not a big deal. Besides, the other side is doing it worse than me. We see people as enemies. How many relationships have been destroyed, how many families have been separated because of political disagreements? Jesus warns that it is as much a sin to do that as it is to assault the man or woman when He says if you call a man “fool,” you are guilty of murder.

More than that, we sin against God Himself. Ours is a sin of idolatry, gross idolatry in line with ancient Israel. A god is anything in which we place our fear, love and trust, and for all too many, government is god and our candidate, our politician, our party is its anointed savior. When we do speak of God, it is more of a nationalistic deism that we confess rather than the Triune God of the Christian faith. We misuse God’s name in pretending to speak for what He approves or disapproves.

Your submission to their authority doesn’t depend on opinion, agreement, party affiliation, or anything else. There are no qualifications given or exceptions made: submitting to God, you submit to the law man. If you choose to disobey the law, assuming it’s not contrary to God’s Word (see below), you disobey God. You follow the law of the land because those laws are established through the authority of God. If you don’t like the laws, the policies, the decisions of the government, then follow the law of the land in how to change those rules. Yet do it with the grace and compassion of a man like Paul who well understood what it is to suffer under the laws of the land for the sake of Jesus.

Don’t forget, God used an imperfect, earthly government to be the instrument by which His Son was sacrificed. Jewish and Roman law were both guilty of murder of an innocent Man who humbled Himself to be born under the Law of God and man. Jesus did not argue; He did not call down an angelic swat team to rescue Him; He did not summon the wrath of God to stop a corrupt political process. Instead, He prayed for the forgiveness of those who killed him. He prayed for the forgiveness of those whose sins He carried. He died for those who loved Him and stood at the foot of the cross weeping, and He died for the people who denied Him and mocked Him even to His dying breath.

Paul is deliberate and careful in his word choice. Subjection and submission is not the same thing as blind conformity and total obedience in every instance.  The early church knew that there will be times that we must obey God rather than man (Acts 5:29). There will be times that the Church, the body of Christ, may choose to be noncompliant and directly disobey human authorities when they go against God and His Word. For the last 50 years, Christians chose to protest laws and the services who provided life-ending abortion services. Christians did so, knowing that various civil charges could be brought against them. Laity and pastors received a criminal record. Yet, their conscience told them that they must stand up for life and the Word of God regarding the sanctity of human life and against the rules and laws who said otherwise. But, even in their protests, they were usually gentle, compassionate, and eager to share the love of Jesus with those who needed to hear of His grace.

So, what are we to do? Pray for them. Not about them, lamenting and complaining to God, but for them, carrying their names and offices to the ears of the Almighty. St. Paul wrote to Timothy, “I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”

Again, notice – Paul doesn’t say pray for those whom you like. Without qualification, as you vote today, pray for all in high positions. Pray for the candidates and the officials-elect, for their wisdom to make Godly decisions, their compassion for the weak, their strength of character. Pray for the candidates and the officials-elect, that they stand against temptation for arrogance and resist corruption. Pray for the candidates and the officials-elect, that they listen and hear. Pray for the candidates and the officials-elect, that they understand their authority comes from God and that they are His agents. Pray for the candidates and the officials-elect, that they defend the innocent and seek appropriate justice against those who harm others. Pray for the candidates and the officials-elect, they are led to repentance for what they do wrong, knowingly or unintentionally. 

Pray for the officials-elect, they govern with humility. Pray for your fellow citizens, that they see officials as God’s representatives. Pray that selfish idealism ceases. Pray that people stop seeing government, their party, their candidate as their god. 

And pray that in the civil chaos of this day and the weeks ahead, you may be a witness to Christ – His Word, His compassion, and His love in a world that is evermore without truth, without mercy, and without grace. Pray that others see Christ in what you say and do, that they may too may be saved and know what true freedom is: eternal salvation through Jesus Christ, the true Savior of the world. Amen.

For All The Saints - Revelation 7: 2-19

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the first reading from Revelation 7.

You are surrounded. I want you to know that. You are completely surrounded and there is no escape. And that is a good thing.

This is the major holiday in Texas, what the State calls the opening of deer season, or what I jokingly refer to as the Commemoration of St. Venison. There is a Far Side cartoon that is appropriate for the day: two bucks are standing in the woods. A sign reading “Deer Season Opens Today,” is nailed to a tree. Buck #1 is standing there with a birthmark shaped like a bullseye on his chest. Buck #2 says, “That’s a bummer of a birthmark, dude.”

While hunters are celebrating the beginning of deer season, today the Christian church marks All Saints Day. For a few minutes, I want you to have a picture of that bullseye target as we think about the word “church.” “Church” has a lot of different meanings, or different uses; I want to use that bullseye image to explain it. As a point of explanation, we usually think of the center, the bulls-eye, as being the most important place. For right now, don’t think of it as most important, but simply as the smallest. There are four rings in this bullseye.

The center and the smallest circle of “church” is as a building, as in, “we remodeled the church a few years ago,” or “who left the lights on in the church?” If you expand just slightly, we think of a congregation, a gathering of God’s people in that church building – Zion Lutheran Church, or Rocky Creek Baptist Church. Moving another ring out from the bullseye into yet a larger circle, we talk about a church body – the Lutheran Church Missouri Synod, or the Southern Baptist Church, or the Roman Catholic Church. Again, each ring, each circle, increases in size and scope, with the next ring being very large – the whole Christian church one earth. This is every person who confesses the name of Jesus as Lord and Savior. While we might disagree with our brothers and sisters in Christ in those various congregations and church bodies over matters of doctrine and practice, we are still united under the headship of Christ as part of His Bride, the Church. One, two, three, four – building, congregation, church body, Christian church on earth.

But there is one more layer, one more circle that encapsulates even the body of Christ on earth. You’re thinking, wait a minute: you said four rings, we counted to four, so how can there be five. That’s because this fifth ring you cannont see – it’s the church triumphant, the people of God who have died in the faith and now rest from their labors. You are surrounded by a heavenly host of saints, angels, and archangels whom you cannot see with these eyes on your face, but they are there and you see them with eyes of faith.

We are the church militant, because we continue to struggle this side of heaven. They are the church triumphant, for they are already receiving an even greater foretaste of what awaits us in the resurrection of all flesh. They are enjoying the peaceful presence of the resurrected Christ even as they await their own fleshly resurrection in perfection. You sang about this in the 4^th stanza of the hymn a moment ago:

4 Oh, blest communion, fellowship divine! We feebly struggle, they in glory shine;
Yet all are one in Thee, for all are Thine. Alleluia! Alleluia!

We call the hymn, “For All The Saints.” Great title; great hymn. Easily, one of my top ten favorite hymns and probably in the top five. If I could have my way, we would sing this with the organ music turned all the way up so that the walls shake and your ears ring for hours – not because I want to hurt you, but because it’s the song of the church – the whole church – the whole church in heaven and on earth and in church bodies and in congregations and in buildings and even those outside of buildings. The whole church joins in the song. The Latin name captures it a bit more – Sine Nomine – without number.

That’s what St. John saw in the Revelation – the heavenly saints of God, a great, innumerable congregation from every tribe, people, language, nationality, skin color, and geographic corner of God’s creation from all time, singing the song of praise, “Salvation belongs to our God and to the Lamb!” And with the angels and the elders and the four living creatures, the entire heavenly host fall to their faces before the throne to worship God.“  We join in the song as we celebrate the Feast. “Blessing, honor, glory and might be to God and the Lamb forever, Amen!”

There’s a lovely tradition in the old Scandinavian Lutheran churches that has come across into many if not most Christian churches today. In the old Scandinavian churches, the altar rail was a circle – well, a half-circle, really. Like our half-square rail, it began at one wall, circumnavigated around the chancel and ended at the other wall. The idea is this: the church on earth is on this side, communing together face to face, side by side at the rail. The rest of the circle – in our case, the other half of our square – is what continues into heaven with the saints who have gone before us. So, in the communion liturgy, when we speak of “joining with angels and archangels and all the company of heaven,” you can think of those innumerable saints of God, the sine nomine, who worship God and the Lamb from the other side, the heavenly side, the triumphant side. “Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabaoth, Lord God of hosts!”

You know that I am a hopeless romantic – I use the word in the classical sense. All Saints Day gets me right in the feels because it highlights that connection of the church militant, this side of heaven, with the church triumphant, the other side of heaven. We see this side of the cross with its nail marks and bloody stains; they see the other side of the cross that glows in radiant brilliance. And, when I think of the baptized people of God, family, friends, members of this congregation and the others where I have served, the people of God who have fallen asleep in Jesus, it gets me.

We remember the dead, all saints, all made holy in the blood of Jesus, not to grieve their death but to thank God for them. But, if we are honest, there is still mourning, even if it just a whisper of it, this side of heaven because those whom we remember, we loved. Memories are a left-handed gift of God. We thank God for the memories, but the memories sting just a bit. But, as Jesus said in the Gospel reading this morning, “Blessed are [you] who mourn, for [you] shall be comforted.” Your comfort is in this: Christ died, Christ is risen. All Saints Day brings out most fully the reality of Easter, that you – and our loved ones – all who are dead in their sins and spiritually dead by those sins, deserve a physical death that we cannot stop. Yet, in Christ, we live a resurrected spiritual life, now, already, in the sure and certain promise that in Christ, we will be raised to a new, spiritually whole and holy physical life. Death is not the end. The grave is defeated; death’s sting is no more. We have hope – capitol H Hope – because of God’s entering into space and time in the flesh of Jesus who died, and more than that, was raised. We have hope because of the resurrection of Christ, and in His resurrection, the first-fruit resurrection, there is the Hope of a greater resurrection with all who have died in the faith.

At the graveside, I always read this passage from 1 Thessalonians 4: “And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then, we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord.”  Remember this: a cemetery is a resting place. That’s what the word literally means. It’s a resting place for the bodies of the faithful who await the return of Jesus. I will always remember Mr. Kimble. When his wife died, Mr. Kimble sat at her graveside every night until the sun went down. He rarely missed a night. As the years went by, someone asked him why he did that. I forget the exact words he used, but it was something like this: “Because, just maybe, Jesus will come back while I’m sitting there. I want to see her face when she sees Jesus for the first time. Then, I’ll turn around and see Him for myself.”

We’ll sing this hope as we leave this morning:

The golden evening brightens in the west; soon, soon to faithful warriors cometh rest;
Sweet is the calm of paradise the blest. Alleluia! Alleluia!

But, lo, there breaks a yet more glorious day: The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of Glory passes on His way. Alleluia! Alleluia!

Remember, I said you are surrounded? “We remember those who by their blood, sweat and tears have left their mark on the church, the body of Christ, to which we belong. And we cannot, I think, commemorate this day without a certain sense of awe and respect. Remember, that when you enter the church you are ushered into the presence of a great host. You inherit their legacy.” [1]

What you inherit is this: the title of saint. I suspect that we often think of saint simply as one who has died, or perhaps in the Roman Catholic sense, those who have died with extra-ordinary acts or confession of faith. It’s not that those ideas are bad, but it’s kind of like thinking that the church is only this small thing instead of the great thing that it is. A saint is one who is made holy by the declaration of God through Christ. You are not a saint because of what you have done. You are a saint because of what God has done for you. He has declared you innocent in His sight. You are proclaimed righteous. It’s not your own, you didn’t create it, you didn’t become it. It is, however, yours as His gift to you. You, with all your failings and foibles this side of heaven, are still a baptized child of God and you are as much as saint as any of the famous ones in the Bible or in the history books of the church. Their Jesus is your Jesus. Sainthood knows no levels in Christ.

When we conclude this morning’s service, the last verses of the hymn will sing of that day. As you sing it, envision what that day will be like. Sing it loud, sing it bold – I don’t care if you can’t carry a tune in a bucket, today, belt it out. It’s our confession, it’s our hope, it’s Christ’s promise put to music. And, if like me, the tears get in the way and your throat gets tight and you can’t sing, it’s OK. Every year, it gets harder for me to finish the hymn as I remember those whom I have buried and transferred from the church militant to the church triumphant. And I remember those whom I love who have fallen asleep in Jesus. But, even as I wipe the tears from my eyes, I see what is to come. 

But, lo, there breaks a yet more glorious day: The saints triumphant rise in bright array;
The King of Glory passes on His way, Alleluia, Alleluia. [2]

And, on that day, we will fully receive Jesus’ blessing as our mourning becomes dancing. Amen.

 

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[1] (Gerhard Forde, as quoted on 1517 Facebook page, https://www.facebook.com/photo?fbid=961037322721534&set=pcb.961037442721522

[2] For All the Saints – #677 Lutheran Service Book, © 2007, CPH: St. Louis, MO

You Do Nothing to Inherit the Kingdom! - Mark 10: 17-22

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

“What must I do to inherit eternal life?” I do believe the rich young man’s question is honest. I don’t think he is trying to trick Jesus or trap him in some minutia of the Law. St. Mark doesn’t give us any reason to think there is something hinky going on. I think the question is an honest question, but it does give us some insight into the man. Mark notes that he is rich. Maybe he’s a first century Wall Street tycoon, used to making the big deals, getting his way, and negotiating his opponent into submission. He gets it done. So, he brings that with him to the conversation: “What do I have to do? It’s how the world works. What do I need to do to inherit eternal life, Jesus?”   

If you stop to think about it, we ask “what do I have to do?” quite often in a lot of different settings. This is part of the give-and-take of all sorts of relationships that we have in our daily lives and vocations. “I’ll tell you what I want, you tell me what you need, and let’s see if we can’t meet in the middle.” Students ask teachers, “What do I have to do to get extra credit?” Teachers ask students, “What do I have to do to get this into your heads?” Kids ask parents, “What do I have to do to go spend the night at my friend’s house?” Parents ask, “What do I have to do to get you to clean your room?” Teenage boys ask their buddies, “What do I have to do to get her to like me?” Teenage girls ask their friends, “What do I have to do to get him to leave me alone?” The salesman asks, “What do I have to do to get you to buy this today?” The customer asks, “What do I have to do to get out of here and go home?”

The focus is on the “I,” the initial maker of the request. “What do I have to do?”  It implies that I can bring something to the conversation, that I have something to offer, something of value to persuade you to move towards me. 

Let’s go back to the rich man’s question - what must I do to inherit eternal life? What does the rich man have that he can offer? What can he bring to the table to negotiate with Jesus? He’s prepared to offer his good life, his track record of commandment keeping. In fact, I wonder if the question isn’t actually a base desire for affirmation, making the question almost rhetorical: “What I’ve been doing….that’s how I inherit eternal life, right?”

You notice that Jesus addresses commandments four through ten. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Don’t take your neighbor’s life or wife, don’t steal the neighbor’s belongings or their good reputation, don’t manipulate someone in the business world, and don’t forget to love your mom and dad.” The rich young man thinks he has this licked: I imagine he is nodding at each commandment that Jesus mentions and thinking he’s got this under control. 

But then Jesus turns to the first table of the Law. “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind.” A god is anything you fear, love and trust. Jesus, who can see into this man’s heart, knows that man’s god – lower case g – is his wealth. There’s a powerful, small detail – Mark notes that Jesus loves the man – He doesn’t want to see the young man perish into eternity by chasing after a false god. He calls the man to an act of repentance, to stop worshipping the false god of his wealth by ridding himself of it, making way in his heart to love the Lord your God instead. “Go, sell all you have and give it to the poor and you will have treasure in heaven.” It’s as if Jesus is asking, “What does your fear, love and trust rest? Is it in me, or in your wealth?” The man’s actions serve as the sad conclusion: “Disheartened by the saying, he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.”

“What must I do?” It’s a loaded question, one we must be very careful of asking. It’s one thing to ask your spouse or your parent. It’s a whole ‘nother thing if we think we can approach God with our grocery list of good deeds, as if we can somehow negotiate our way into God’s good graces. We’re quick to make our suggestions: I gotta go to church, I gotta give my offering, I gotta be a better parent, I gotta be a better student, I gotta be better in my Bible reading, I gotta pray more, I gotta…” Have you noticed that list always grows? There’s never an end. There’s always something else we think we gotta do:  I gotta watch my mouth, I gotta keep my eyes from wandering, I gotta do better, I gotta…” The list never ends; the list is never accomplished; the list is never perfected. The list tells the tale.

In hopeless abandon, we cry out, “What must I do?” You know what Jesus wants from you? Your sins. That’s all. He doesn’t want your perfection, or your best of intentions. He wants your sins. Rid your heart, your conscience, your life of anything else that gets in the way of Jesus. That’s what He came for. He came to be your Savior. He came to trade His perfection for your imperfection. Don’t put Jesus out of a job! He came to take your sins from you. Instead of trying to do better, and then when you fail try even harder – as if you could somehow attain perfection that way – instead, confess your sins. Surrender them all to Jesus: all of the I gottas, the I wouldas, the I couldas, the, shouldas turn them all over to Jesus and trust that His once-for-all death on the cross pays for your sins. You do nothing; Jesu does it all. You have nothing to negotiate with, so out of His great love for you, Jesus speaks for you with His Father in heaven. Jesus says, “My life for his; My life for hers.” The answer to “What must I do to inherit eternal life” is found at the cross. At the cross, in His dying breath, Jesus declares: There is nothing left for you to do. “It is finished.”

I started this sermon by saying that the man’s question was an honest one. While it may have been an honest one, it was a misguided question. Go back to the question with me one more time: “What must I do to inherit eternal life.” What must I do to inherit? Answer: you do nothing to inherit anything. Inheritance is something that is given by the head/s of the household to those who in the family. You don’t earn inheritance by something you do. Inheritance is a gift. You don’t buy it, you don’t negotiate for it.

Inheritance is yours by nature of who you are: a son or daughter. Inheritance is yours by nature of whose you are: a son or daughter of the giver. Inheritance implies family.

This is what God has done for you in Christ Jesus. In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, 4 and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, 5 who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. (1 Peter 1:3-5).

So there is no doubt in your mind of your adoption into the family of God through Christ, you are given Jesus’ name. You are called “Christian,” which means “Little Christ.” It’s not something you negotiated with God. God declares it; you simply respond in faith: Yes, Lord, I believe. There is no negotiation. There is simply declaration: What must I do to inherit eternal life? Nothing: Christ has done everything for you.

Amen.

Marriage: God's Gift to Man & Wife - Genesis 2: 18-25

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

The Impressive Clergyman stood up in front of the Prince and his soon-to-be wife and intoned, “Marriage. Marriage is what brings us together today. Marriage, that blessed arrangement; that dream within a dream….”[1] To borrow from his sermon, as we heard in this morning’s Scripture readings, God’s Word about marriage is what brings us together today.

Marriage is a life-long walking together of husband and wife, monogamously united together, one man and one woman, in the one-flesh union that God established in the Garden of Eden. A marriage is not the same thing as a wedding, although most marriages legally begin with a wedding. A wedding is an event, hopefully, prayerfully, a once-in-a-lifetime event. It’s the stuff that girls daydream about have women studying brides’ magazines and websites. With tuxes and dresses, venues and caterers, florists and DJs, weddings are big business. But at the end of the day, it’s a singular event; relatively speaking, it’s just a moment in first chapter of the wedded couple’s life.  A marriage begins as the wedding event comes to its completion.

Marriage began because God saw that it wasn’t good for man to be alone. It would be better for him to have a female companion, a helper, a comforter, someone like him but also different from him, someone to walk alongside him through life. All the living creatures on earth and in the air were brought by God to Adam for them to be named. Do not read into this that God was authorizing some kind of weird, perverted human-animal relationship, the kind that twisted minds today call “love” as if it were the same thing as that between man and woman. This animal roll call and naming process was God’s way of demonstrating to Adam the need for companionship to defeat loneliness, setting the stage, so to speak, so Adam would appreciate all the more the gift that God had in mind for Adam, His son.

After placing Adam into a deep sleep, God took one of Adam’s ribs and used it to make a woman. I say “make,” but I kind of like the literal Hebrew translation better: to build. God built the woman from Adam’s rib. That might sound rather industrial, but think of it this way: while you might make a cake or make a blanket, you build things of significance and power – you build a home, you build a nation. Adam was created from dirt – that is what his name means, Adamah, dirt – created in God’s image of holiness. God builds the woman, carefully, deliberately, from Adam’s side. She is not inferior to him, as would be if she was taken from a bone in the foot; rather, she is built from his side, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh. It’s an indication of the relationship, literally his side by her side.

Do you know why God created the world? It wasn’t because He was bored, or He was curious to see if He could do it. God is love, and He wanted an object, something, where His love could be directed toward. Thus He created the universe and all that was in it. Do you know why He created man? He didn’t just want something, He wanted someone, in His own image, someone who could receive His love and, in relationship, reflect it back to Him and also to show and distribute that love to His creation. Do you know why God created a woman? So that His love could also be shared among each other, and so that Adam would have someone to receive his love and love him in return, demonstrating God’s love to each other as God loved them.

When God gives her to Adam, his joy at seeing her practically leaps from the page: “At last! Here is one like me!” You will notice there was no wedding – well, at least, not as we think of weddings. There was no cake and punch, no band or brisket, no limo or honeymoon, no wondering what side of the chancel to sit in. But it was a wedding, nevertheless. It was conducted in the most beautiful scene the world had ever seen, the Garden of Eden, where it was, truly, a perfect moment, making it a perfect wedding. Their wedding took place in true innocence, before sin had happened, establishing wedlock to be a holy, God-pleasing estate that should be kept in a holy manner. The congregation of creation on earth and the hosts of heaven watched and listened as God gave His blessing as both Father of Bride and Groom. The pre-incarnate Jesus was the preacher blessing them with His words that a man and woman shall become one flesh and the Holy Spirit stood as witness to the sacred event, having brought the two together and uniting them with love for each other. [2]

What there was, was marriage: God instituting the gift of a husband to a wife and a wife to a husband, establishing marriage as His divinely willed and approved blessing to mankind and creation. And, like very other piece of creation, it was good.

Every time family and friends gather at a wedding to celebrate the marriage-union of man and wife in holy marriage, they do so in the footsteps of Adam and Eve and all of God’s faithful who have gone before, invoking His name and imploring His blessing not only in the wedding, but on the entire marriage that follows the pronouncement of mister and misses, husband and wife. Any other relationship other than the one man and one woman union, is not marriage, regardless what the government or conventional wisdom says and it is not, and cannot, be blessed by God.

I don’t need to tell you that marriage, while a blessing, is also hard work.  The warm fuzzies and flutters slowly morph into normalcy and, if not careful, complacency, taking each other for granted instead of as the gift they are. Statistics tell us that marriage is about a fifty-fifty proposition for success. Every time I pronounce “husband and wife,” I do so with an iota of fear for them, knowing what they face. What do you expect when two sinners are joined together, side by side, stride for stride, under the same roof, sharing the same blankets? At the end of the marriage rite, I say, “What God has joined together, let no man tear apart.” In that moment, satan giggles with glee, already hard at work to destroy what God joined together. He does it sneakily: God’s gifts get turned inward and backward. Love, which is always directed toward the spouse, becomes selfishness; compassion for the spouse’s needs becomes insensitivity; forgiveness is replaced by getting even. And Satan laughs and claps his hands in evil joy while husband and wife, man and wife, weep as what God put together is torn asunder. 

The Old Testament lesson speaks of God instituting marriage. The Gospel lesson speaks of marriages broken. I want to take a moment and speak to four specific people here today.

The first person is you who have lived through a broken marriage. Divorce is hard. It is hard on everyone who loves the couple. I have heard it described as death. That makes sense. If two become one in marriage, in divorce, the one is torn apart. In this morning’s Gospel lesson, Jesus speaks to it, but I want you to understand something about this conversation and its context. It comes because the Jewish leaders are trying to trap Jesus. They were looking for loopholes. They don’t care a lick about the souls of the husband and wife in question; they weren’t worried about the broken-hearted people whose lives are collapsing. They want to get Jesus in hot water, thus the question. Jesus answer, here, isn’t about labeling divorce a sin and branding divorcees with a Scarlet D, to be scorned and mocked. (As an aside, sadly, that happens sometimes in the Church, and for those of us who have whispered, stared, or wondered “what did he or she do?”, we must repent of those foolish thoughts.) What Jesus would do, instead, is identify the sins that led to the dissolution of what God established, and then lead the broken man and wife to repentance and, ideally, reconciliation. Jesus died for those whose marriages died, with the promised grace that even broken marriages are forgiven, the old adam and old eve drowned in the blood of Christ, living a new life as a forgiven, baptized man or woman redeemed in the eyes of God.

The second person is you who are struggling in your marriage. If Adam and Eve are the picture-perfect image of what marriage was intended, I can only imagine what their marriage was like after the fall as they blamed each other and had to wrestle with each other as sinners. To you who are struggling, you are not alone. Too often, struggling husbands and wives pretend everything is fine when, in reality, their marriage is – to use the metaphor – sick. To carry that metaphor, if your body is sick, you go to a doctor for care. If your marriage is sick, do not hide it, do not lie and pretend with yourself, each other, and to others that all is well. Seek help. Your Lord Jesus Christ is the Great Physician of body and soul and of broken lives and broken marriages; He gives gifts of peace – restoration - to you. I invite, encourage, welcome you to come speak with me. Don’t be embarrassed; I will not judge you as “less than” or a failure. I work with sinners, remember, and I face one every day in the mirror; I work with children of God, remember, and I see one every day in the mirror. And, if you don’t want to talk with me, then talk with a faithful Christian friend whose marriage is strong and will offer Godly, prayerful counsel for you and your spouse.

The third person is the one whose marriage is healthy and strong. God be praised for the love and respect you and your spouse share as you live your married life. Lift up those who are struggling and walk alongside them with compassion and humility, that your strength might be theirs. May God bless you, husband and wife, as Godly witnesses of the Lord’s love and compassion for His people.

The fourth person is the one who is single, either by choice or because death has separated you from your beloved. You are also a Godly example of what it is to be a faithful witness and child of God. May He bless you with the strength to resist temptations of this world while also giving you the grace to look forward to the blessed, eternal wedding feast of the Lamb in His kingdom.  And, if you are seeking a spouse, then begin praying now for whomever the Lord will send to you in His time and in His way.

Whichever person you are, divorced, struggling, healthy, single or widowed, remember this: God saw that it was not good for man – or woman – to be alone. He sent His Son, Jesus, to be the perfect bridegroom for the Church, claiming her to be His own. He has washed His bride of all her sins in holy Baptism, making her radiant, resplendent in His holiness and blamelessness. He cares and feeds His bride with His own Body and Blood. When she is hurt, He wraps her in His grace and mercy. When she sins, He calls her back in repentance to His loving, forgiving arms.

This, then, becomes the picture for husbands and wives. As Christ is for the Church, giving Himself for her, He is also for the husbands and wives whom He unites, binding them to each other through Him and in Him.

The Impressive Clergyman’s brief sermon was right, but also wrong. Marriage is not what brings us together. What brings us together is God’s command and love which fills man and woman with love for each other and love for He who united them. His love does not follow; His love leads, enwraps, and holds husband and wife in a union that pictures Christ and His bride, the church. But the Clergyman is right: treasure this love which is ours in Christ our Lord. Amen.

---

[1] Reiner, R. (1987). The Princess Bride. Twentieth Century Fox.

[2] I am indebted to the images in this paragraph from Valeris Herberger, The Great Works of God, vol 1, CPH © 2010, p. 172.

Jesus is Still Lord of All - Mark 9: 38-50

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the first portion of this morning’s Gospel reading, Mark 9: 38-41.

I hardly need to tell you that the election cycle is in full boil. Our phones, email, social media, internet home page, radio and tv stations, and whatever other media you use are all beating the drum of political warfare, directly or indirectly proclaiming that the Answer – with capital A – the Answer is this candidate, this party, this platform and that the opposite side of the aisle will bring gloom and doom and destruction, tohu wobohu, sheer and utter chaos, the likes that hasn’t been seen since Sodom and Gomorrah.

Don’t misunderstand: elections are important, from the candidates and platforms down to the ballot you cast. Like me, you have friends who vote straight red and others who bleed blue. Although we are on opposite ends of the spectrum with people whom we deeply and dearly respect, we agree on some things while we disagree on others. I have a few friends who get absolutely jazzed by politics and I have others who want nothing more than for Wednesday, November 6, to arrive so that, at least in theory, the political circus can be over for a while.

I confess I am getting more and more into the latter group. My chief reason is that I very much dislike what politics does to individuals and relationships. I don’t see politics as much a national, state, or community problem, as I see it a people problem. You are probably familiar with the Latin E pluribus unum that is stamped on our money. It means “From many, one.” That sounds great. But more and more, what I see is less about oneness and more “us verses them.” And Satan rejoices. Jesus wept over Jerusalem because of what He knew was coming in its fall. Rather than citizens weeping over this kind of social hostility and separation, what I often see is a zeal to fight the fight, Red vs Blue, Donkey vs Elephant. In decades past, it was about policies and struggling together and alongside each other to advance ideas and solutions to complicated and complex problems of our society, our nation, our world. Now, it seems like it is personal, not politics, and the problem is the other person who is on the other side. Our goal, then, becomes much like Commodore Oliver Hazzard Perry in the War of 1812, to meet the enemy and make them ours.

Yes, God calls us to work for justice and mercy and to use our socio-political process to do this, and yes, He calls us to be good and faithful citizens. But this kind of political talk and thinking elevates The Cause – think capital letters, here – the Cause, the Answer, the Process, The Candidate, The Party to be the next savior and god with the election process to be to their ascendency as Palm Sunday was to Jesus. This is idolatry. Remember: an idol, a god, is anything in whom you place your faith, hope and trust. Listen to how people talk, perhaps even how you speak: we must stand against them; we must hope and pray that our position, our candidate, will win the day against theirs. It’s our only hope to save the nation. Thus, the hope of our country, of justice, the very future of freedom – and then, this extends to the Church of Christ and the Gospel itself (which is a specific idolatry called Nationalistic Deism) – all depend on our working to get this candidate elected, this bill passed, and that bill stopped. And, because there are so many uninformed and uneducated voters out there, we (pick your side) must be the bearer of the message against them. The list of idols grow: my candidate, my party, my platform, me. And, at the end of the day, it all boils down to the unholy trinity of taking power, blocking power, maintaining power, and I gotta do my part. 

But, if we are honest, in the words of the cartoon character Pogo, “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

This morning’s Gospel reading picks up from last week’s reading. Last Sunday, we heard Jesus make his second Passion prediction, that He must be delivered into the hands of men who will kill Him (9:31). The disciples were so busy arguing about which among them would be first in the Kingdom (v.34) that they missed it. Jesus talks about going to the cross; they are worried about who’s number one – a “me verses you eleven” way of thinking. Then, in this morning’s Gospel lesson, they are still thinking about confrontation, a “us verses them” mentality. “Teacher, someone was casting out demons in your name,” they reported. It was like they were saying, “Who is in and who is out, Jesus, who is with us and who is against us!” John tries to boast a bit, leaning on their title of disciple to draw a party line, “we tried to stop him because he wasn’t one of us.”

There it is – John shows his colors. His words betray his idolatry. He assumes that because God is working through the Twelve, He can only work through the Twelve. Better shut him down, Jesus; he doesn’t know the secret handshake. John has forgotten that God works through the disciples, yes, but not just the disciples. Jesus’ reply to John, “Do not stop him for no one who does a mighty work in my name will be able toon afterward to speak evil of me. For the one who is not against us is for us,” shows that God does not need to gain John’s or the Twelve’s approval before extending His power, might and kingdom. God is at work. The Lord reigns. Jesus is the Lord of His Kingdom and it shall have no end.

Jesus continues, “For truly I say to you, whoever gives you a cup of cool water to drink because you belong to Christ will by no means lose his reward.” Just a cup of cool water. It’s a symbol of, a visual image of the humility of the Kingdom. The Kingdom and reign of God in Christ is not marked by beating an opponent into a verbal pulp, by finding out juicy tidbits from a sordid past, or legislating financial and physical rewards or punishments. The Kingdom and reign of God in Christ comes in lowliness, in humility, setting aside power and might, surrendering, laying down one’s life, dying.

The Kingdom comes when Jesus is arrested, tried and executed – ironically, to the civil authorities who are more worried about expediency and keeping their jobs than seeking justice. Jesus has all power in heaven and on earth, but He sets it all aside, humbling Himself to stand before Pilate. He who spoke all things into existence with “Let there be,” opened not His mouth in defense. The King’s throne is declared: “Crucify Him!” The Kingdom comes as Christ dies on an unholy hill, hoisted between two criminals, trading His life and His holiness for the unholy sins and failings of unholy people who deserve condemnation. In His final cry, “It is finished,” the Kingdom comes and Jesus fulfills the perfect justice and righteousness of God. Peace, restoration, is made with the Father through Christ. In Christ, we are one with the Father through the Holy Spirit. And, united in Christ, we are then one with each other.

You will notice, Jesus does not flex. He doesn’t rally the troops. In fact, when Peter tries to defend Him, Jesus tells him to stop and put the sword away. Jesus doesn’t call for petitions, or elections, or impeaching Pilate and Herod. Instead, Jesus dies. He loves the world with such great love that He is willing to trade places, dying for the world. He surrenders His rights, not demands them, so that we would have unity with Him and in Him.

This was all according to the Father’s perfect will. God is Almighty. You know the old children’s song, “He’s got the whole world in His hands”? That’s absolutely true. The Psalmist declares “The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.” As God told Job at the end of Job’s trials, He is working in ways beyond our seeing, our knowing, our control. He is God; we are His people.

So, John doesn’t need to worry about what the others are doing in the Lord’s name. He is simply called to trust in Jesus and do what the Lord has called Him to do.

Here is what that means:

·        John can rest in the fact that the reign of God is bigger than him.

·        You can rest in the fact that the reign of God is bigger than you.

·        John can trust that even when we do not understand what God is doing, or why He is doing it that way, God is still Lord of all.

·        You can trust that even when we do not understand what God is doing, or why He is doing it that way, God is still Lord of all.

As the political seasons continues to push forward and as the world draws deeper and wider battle lines in the sand, remember: you are God’s people whose citizenship rests in a greater Kingdom which is in but not of this world. Behave as Kingdom citizens. Treat others as Kingdom citizens. See things through Kingdom eyes. Work to care for the poor. Work to safeguard the unborn, the weak, those who cannot defend or speak for themselves. Do good, faithful and honest work. Protect your neighbor’s life and property while being content with what the Lord has given you. Speak well of those with whom you disagree. Love those who see you as their enemy. But most of all, greatest of all, seek unity. Work towards unity, particularly the unity that is ours in Christ. Remember: this gift is ours and all who receive His grace by faith – including those who vote differently than you. Labor towards this end, and in this, and in whatever happens at the end of the day on November 5, trust that the Lord reigns. Amen.

The Greatest Is Not Whom You Expect - Mark 9: 30-37

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson.

Who is the greatest? I guess it depends on who you ask, and what you’re debating. NCAA football?  Greatest president?  We have livestock shows to find the best future farmer and rancher, spelling bees to determine the best speller, MVP awards for the best player, and Oscars for best actors. I bet many of you have a T-shirt, or a necktie, or a card somewhere that declares you to be the best mom or dad ever.

The disciples are having a similar argument: who’s the best disciple? I can imagine how the conversation went. Andrew argues he’s best because he was the first of the disciples called – first in Jesus program, first in His heart, so to speak. Peter argues his confession, which Jesus declared to be the foundation of the church, makes him the best, but Nathaniel counters that he confessed Jesus to be the Son of God and King of Israel before Peter ever did. Matthew, a tax collector, says he sacrificed the most financially to become a disciple, but James and John, the sons of Zebedee, think they gave up more when they left their family fishing enterprise and their older father. The other disciples all had their reasons, too, I’m sure.  

We do it, too. Who’s the greatest member of Zion? Perhaps it’s the one who has been a member the longest. Maybe it’s the one with the largest family tree, or the deepest roots in Mission Valley. Maybe the one who has God-given talent to spare, or who seems to be involved in everything, or who never misses a Sunday service, or who has taught Sunday school for years, or the one whom we think gives the most money – they are the most more important.

The danger of considering someone to be the best is that it devalues everyone else. When Tiger Woods was at the height of his professional career, commentators noted how his entry into any tournament changed the aspect of that event. He was so good, so unstoppable that players assumed he would win, so instead of vying for first, every other competitor was trying to come in second. 

Jesus takes this argument of greatness and tips it over 180 degrees. “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all and servant of all.” And He uses a child to illustrate this point. Now, I need you to set aside our 21^st century attitude of children for a second, that they’re beautiful little angels who need to be protected and sheltered and modeled for their innocence and purity. In Jesus’ day, nothing was further from the truth. In the social structure, children were above dogs and below servants. Children couldn’t do anything, they couldn’t fend for themselves. They were completely dependent on their parents, they took a mother’s attention, took up resources, and took up space. Children were things to be tolerated while they were eating you out of house and home and while you waited for your sons to work for you in the fields or in the business, or for your daughters marry off so you could gain the wedding price.

Jesus sits down next to this seemingly useless person, front and center. “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, and whoever receives me, receives not me but Him who sent me.”

I want you to notice something. Elsewhere, Jesus speaks of becoming like a child. Not here. Here, it’s to be great receive the child. Think about this. What’s notable about a little child is that he’s little.  To receive a child, you have to get off your pedestal of power, possession, and prestige.  You have to get down on your hands and knees to meet the child at his eye level.

If you want a picture of greatness Jesus’ style, watch a mother or father who is changing a diaper at three in the morning.  Watch parents with their children in church struggling to teach them how to pray and worship.  Go to Sunday School and watch an adult bend down to help a little one learn the Scriptures.  Watch an adult child remind her senior parents that Jesus still loves them. Watch a kid hug another kid that everyone else seems to ignore. That’s the greatness of the cross.

The greatness of the cross is the greatness of self-sacrifice.  It’s serving instead of being served.  Jesus loved to use little children as examples – not because they were cute – but because they were giveable to, helpless, and the least among the great.

That changes things, doesn’t it, to see greatness as the one who is the most needful? Instead of seeing greatness as the one who is the best and the most, instead see greatness as the one who seems to be the least. The greatest, Jesus says, is the one who is weakest, who is about to be overwhelmed, who is completely dependent; the one who has lost or who is losing everything dear, the one in the most danger of being overlooked or bypassed; the one written off by society as irrelevant, the one no one sees as if they aren’t even there; the one thrown aside like detritus, the unwanted and the unloved. To receive them, that is, to serve them, that is where greatness lies in the kingdom.

 You know a person like this. For just a second, close your eyes and imagine that person – perhaps it’s a man, a woman, or a child. The rest of the world sees them, but I want you to look at them closely. Close your eyes. Look…See the pain in the face, the sadness? See the loss and hurt? Look more closely: Do you see the griefs and sorrows? Do you see how this soul is almost overwhelmed to the point of death? Do you see how this soul is as nothing? Keep your eyes closed…now look at the brow…and as you do, you notice something strange – the scars at the hair-line. They’re not big, just a fraction of an inch long, some jagged and some neat small marks. You realize the face in front of you is changing. As you see him, He is also seeing you, his expression filled with compassion and mercy. Now, look down…the hands of this weak soul are held out towards you in a welcome. Notice the hands…gentle, strong…and with a mark in each hand. Now, quickly, look down at the feet and you see a similar mark in the feet. Slowly, he turns his back towards you and you see the lines trace across His back, once angry red, now healed. And, as He turns back toward you, you realize that this one who is before you, the weakest of all, is none other than Jesus Himself. Do you see Him? As your eyes are opened, He speaks.

He says, “I know what it is to be weak and humbled; I know what it is to surrender fully and completely for the eternal wellbeing of those whom I love. I know what it is to have nothing. I know what it is to be hated and despised, a man of sorrows, whom no one loves. I know what it is to be so weak, I cannot carry my own cross. I know what it is to be overlooked until perceived as a threat, and then something to be destroyed. I know what it is to be overwhelmed at the point of death, abandoned by my closest friends, and I know what it is to be rejected even by My own Father. I know what it is to die for people who spat on me, whipped me, and nailed me to the cross.”

That’s what Jesus did for you–He reached down to us.  For we are like little children.  We couldn’t reach up to heaven no matter how hard we would try.  And the smaller the child is, the more we must bend our knees, backs, and egos to meet him. To receive a little child and serve him is to bend down and give to another.  It’s to know the self-sacrificing love of the cross that saved you and made you God’s own child. That’s greatness in the way of the cross.  That’s the Jesus way.  Greatness in the way of the cross is the greatness of humility.

His greatness is backwards of what the world sees. The world sees dying as weakness; Jesus shows strength in his innocent suffering and death. The world counts as least one who refuses to fight; Jesus demonstrates greatness in forgiving those whose sins nail Him to the cross. The world sees crucifixion as the most humiliating and excruciating way of death; Jesus makes the cross into a throne of glory. The world looks at a grave as the period at the end of life’s sentence; Jesus’ resurrection makes the grave to be nothing more than a resting place as we wait for our own day of resurrection.

And, when we see Jesus as the least of all, you see the least of all as the greatest. At the beginning of the sermon, I asked you who was the greatest member of Zion. Does this change your perspective of the greatest?

The greatest member of Zion is the one whose heart is broken, the one whose body hurts all the time, the one who is afraid, the one who is drowning in debt, the one who is to embarrassed to come out of the shadows, the one who is scared, the one who is flirting with grave temptation, the one who is grieved by what they have done and left undone. This is the most important member of this body of Christ.

If you think I am trying to shame you – I am not. You are the most important child of God in this holy House today. Please – don’t hide. Let your brothers and sisters in Christ who are strong walk with you and help you with our prayers, our words of encouragement, our care and our support. And for those of you who are strong, don’t worry – I’m not forgetting you. It’s not that I don’t think you are important. Because the day will come when you will be the least and then, you too, shall be the greatest.

And when you start to change how you see greatness, your whole world view changes. A family had stopped at a fast-food burger joint for a fast to-go meal. Somehow they wound up with an extra burger in the sack. The teenage boy was excited – he thought he was going to get a two-fer that night. While they munched on the fries in the bag, the light in front of them turned red. As they came to a stop, the mom saw a man standing at the corner. He was a mess – shaggy beard, ragged face, dirty. She could practically smell him through the rolled-up windows. And, then, she knew why they had gotten the extra burger. As she rolled down the passenger window, she waved the man over and told her son to give the man the extra burger. The man nodded his thanks, the light turned green, and the family drove away. The son was irritated at first – why did you give away my burger, he demanded. “I didn’t give him yours,” Mom said. She smiled. “I gave him his.”

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

“I believe; help my unbelief.” - Mark 9: 14-29

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

“The man said to Jesus, “But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.” And Jesus said, “’If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.” Immediately, the father of the child cried out and said, “I believe; help my unbelief.”

These words from this father echo through the centuries into this very chancel today. You have heard them from the mouths of friends and family members. You have probably heard them from your own throat. I have heard them rumble from my own throat more often than I care to count. Those five words, “I believe; help my unbelief,” perfectly describe the human condition as a child of God this side of heaven, living in faith, under the cross of Jesus. With our eyes, we see the improbable, the impossible. With eyes of faith, we see God and His promises for us in Christ as His beloved and baptized children. I call it the crossroads of faith and life. Sometimes, those are congruent, in perfect parallel to each other in copacetic harmony. But, other times, there is a terrible collision of faith and life at those crossroads in ways that seem to be not only incongruous but diametrically opposed.

"I believe; help my unbelief." I suspect that every Christian prays this at one point or another during their lifetime. I want you to know that this is not a sin to feel this way. This does not make you a lesser quality Christian. It does not relegate you to the church’s minor-team. You should not feel ashamed that you are letting Jesus down, or your church down, or have failed in your Baptismal promises. This is an honest confession of both faith in Christ as Lord and Savior while also acknowledging that our faith, this side of heaven, is far from perfect and not like we wish it could be.

I said it is not a sin to feel this way, but the devil loves to make us think it is. He seeks to condemn us or make us feel condemned even where God does not. “If you are a ‘real’ Christian,” he intones, “you wouldn’t have to add ‘help my unbelief.’ You would simply believe – no ifs, ands, or buts." And he throws that in your face. He shines the light on our heroes of faith in the Bible – Ruth or David, Paul or Dorcas – so you can see your own failed reflection against them. Then he points to those around you who don’t ever seem to struggle with their faith – your wife, your husband, your dad, your grannie, the older couple across the aisle, the young couple a few pews in front of you, your best friend. They all seem to roll along as if nothing ever phases them. “But you” – and here, the devil shakes his head – “you call yourself a Christian…tsk, tsk, tsk…” This leads you into greater despair. You actually start to believe it. “You know, if I were a better Christian…if I had more faith…then I wouldn’t be tempted this way.”

The Christian faith is grounded in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. You confessed it a moment ago in the Apostle’s Creed. It acknowledges we are sinners and Christ, to fulfill the Father’s will, became man so He could live perfectly and fulfill the Law of God for us. He also had to be man so He could die, the perfect sacrifice for sinners. The Christian faith proclaims Christ’s sacrifice was accepted as the full atonement for sinners because of the Easter resurrection, demonstrating the Father’s wrath against sinners was satisfied. We believe this to be true because the Scriptures testify to this. This is the Christian faith.

But faith also has a personal aspect. You said this a moment ago, also, when you confessed the Creed: “I believe in God the Father Almighty…” And, because you believe this Faith that confesses Jesus as Savior, you are saved by God’s grace: your sins are forgiven by Jesus, and they are no longer held against you. This is called saving faith. I think for most of us, this is relatively constant in our day-to-day living under the cross of Jesus. It’s that sense of what we feel, what we trust, where we set our affections. This idea of faith – that which is within me, what I believe; that is, this is my faith -  is not wrong. It is the Spirit-given gift that lets us say “I believe.” But that faith is constantly in flux. Sometimes, the Christian’s faith is a strong, certain and sure as can be, and the confession, “I believe,” is as large as the massive live oak tree out front of the church and rings out like our large, brass bell chiming across the Mission Valley community on a Sunday morning. But, other times, especially when the Christian’s faith is rocked, stunned, battered and bruised. In moments like that, it is tempting to think that if only we had faith the size of a mustard seed, if only our faith was as warm as a smoldering wick, if only it was as strong as a bruised reed it would be an improvement.

This happens when our loved ones are critically ill. It happens when our checking account is empty and the credit card is declined. It happens when the boss says, “I’m sorry….business hasn’t picked up to meet our costs…”, when the doctor says, “I’m sorry; we used all our capabilities…”, when the spouse declares, “I don’t love you anymore….” It happens when we find ourself guilty of a terrible sin against God and against our neighbor and we are left wondering if we are even lovable anymore. It happens at the grave-side of a loved one who died in faith, and you say, “Yes, I believe…” but staring at that grave… It happens when we least expect it.  And when life crashes in and when faith is shaken and rocked and stunned and silenced, and we cannot see how this will end, we find ourselves standing arm-in-arm with the father in this morning’s text: Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.  

Let’s back up for a second. If you are being tempted to focus on the “help my unbelief” part, remember this: those three words are a testimony of faith. Without faith in Jesus, they could not be prayed, cried, or whispered. They are the words of the faithful, baptized Child of God calling out to the Heavenly Father, through faith in Jesus, to come to your aid in the midst of struggle and temptation. It’s admission that you cannot do this yourself. You are confessing your weakness of faith, yes, but it’s also trust in Jesus that He will rescue and save.

When you do this, you are in good company. You can start with the father in this morning’s Gospel reading, one of my personal Biblical heroes because I often find myself standing under his shadow. But don’t stop there. Look through the Scriptures and you see hero after hero of faith whose faith was anything but perfect. We think of Gideon as the brave man who led Israel against the Philistines, shattering jars of clay and shouting “The sword of the Lord and the sword of Gideon!” but we forget that he was so frightened that he hid in a olive press and had to be shown, time and time again, that God was with him before he ever stepped onto the battle field. How about John the Baptizer? Here was a man who called the pharisees “Broods of vipers,” preached repentance, baptized countless Israelites, and then stood against Herod and condemned his adulterous affair, but when in prison, sent letters to Jesus saying, “Are you really the one, or is there someone else?”  Peter – now there’s a candidate for faithfulness, right? We think of his Pentecost sermon or his standing up against those who demanded that Gentiles first had to be bound under the Law of Moses, true. But don’t forget his sinking into the depths of the sea when he saw the wind, or his running away into the darkness when Jesus was arrested, or his three-fold denial of Jesus when quizzed by a servant girl.  

Isn’t it funny – I called all of these so-called heroes of faith --- perhaps more accurately called antiheroes of faith --- as “good company.” How can I call these examples of lack of faith to be good?

Faith is never the sum and substance of itself. Faith always has an object – something it clings to.  So, the Christian faith is never about the strength of your faith, or the quantity of it.  Our Lord never measures our faith with a level to make sure it’s true, or a ruler to make sure it will go the distance, or a scale to see if it’s weighty enough, or a vial to see it it’s full enough. He never uses a grading system to determine if your faith is pass or fail.  He never compares your faith to that of your spouse, or your parent, or your pastor. What a disaster this would be! How unfortunate we would be if our "faithfulness" was what saved! Could you imagine, having to hope Jesus would give a curve? But He doesn’t…He never scores on a curve. Instead, Jesus scores faith with His cross.

His cross is where true faith is measured and tested and found perfect. Not yours; His. Out of His great faithfulness to the Father and the Father’s plan of salvation, Christ died for you.  This morning’s Old Testament reading from Isaiah, one of the Suffering Servant readings, foretold what Jesus would do, actively and passively fulfilling God’s will for Him:

The Lord God has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious; I turned not backward. 6 I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting.

Baptized into Christ, clothed in Christ, you are wrapped in His faithfulness. Your belief and your unbelief are made perfect in Christ, so that God sees you as filled with the faith of Jesus, faith without failure or doubt. He sees your faithfulness through the lens of the cross. Your cross-marked faith is perfect in every way. 

The English poet, Robert Browning once wrote, “You call for faith, I give you doubt to prove that faith exists. The greater the doubt the stronger the faith, I say, if faith overcomes doubt.” He was right; but, he was also wrong. The blessing of doubt, in this case, is not that our faith overcomes doubt, but that it turns us from ourselves to Jesus, from our weakness to His strength, from our doubts to His faithfulness, from our shortcoming to His fulness. 

I want you to know something about this sermon. It was written for you, but it is especially written for the person whom I continue to write in prison. I told you about this individual this summer, if you recall. This individual did something and the conscience is so burdened and guilty that it feels as if they are now outside God’s grace, unforgiven, unloved, unredeemed. One letter I received was signed with these very words, “I believe; help my unbelief.” I will be mailing a copy of this sermon Monday. Please join me in praying that it is received; that the Spirit can penetrate into a stubborn heart; that the smoldering wick is able to be stirred into flame and the bruised reed of faith a strengthened stem.

The next time life comes at you hard and you pray, “Lord I believe, help my unbelief,” do so with confidence, not fear; hope, not shame.  Romans 8:1 reminds us, “Now there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” God does not look at you in disappointment. Rather He sees you in love, through the cross of Jesus, and acts in His compassion for you. “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief,” is a faith-filled call of hope to the one Whose faith is perfect for me.