A Devotional Thought for Father's Day

Whether you count your child’s lifespan still as weeks and months, or by the decade, whether you push him or her in a stroller or they sometimes push you in a wheelchair, you have had those moments and experiences as a father, filled with anger and frustration – some were righteously felt, but if we’re honest, others not so much. Fatherhood is one of God’s great gifts and children are a blessing. Parenthood is the primary relationship of all mankind, fathers and children, and it is to be one where grace and mercy is freely practiced and love and compassion are exercised.

But, when this relationship breaks, it causes terrible heartache and heartbreak.
The devil cannot abide a peaceful, loving home. So, the devil loves to take the gift and fill us with frustration and hurt so that we call fatherhood a burden, and he loves to take the blessing and fill it with harsh words and broken hearts so that we call it, instead, a curse. He fuels society to call children a disposable choice, much like the terrible ties that will be given today. Love and compassion are surrendered to getting even and showing who’s boss. Grace and mercy are given over to self-justification and self-righteousness.

And then, when we men realize our mistakes and our sins against our kids, the devil takes that all and wraps it up with a horrible, thorny bow and delivers it to us again as shame and guilt. He brings up memories from weeks, years, even decades ago, that good Christian dads would never have thought such things, or felt such things, or done such things toward their children. He leaves us fathers in our own despair, seeing only our failures and our homes as anything but places where the Spirit of God dwells. And, because society casts greater value on the strong, resilient man, we men are told to suck it up and be, well, men. But, when men are crushed under the weight of guilt and shame, where do we turn?

Dads of all ages – hear this Word of God. Christ comes for you. He, who descends to earth as a human boy, who in holiness perfectly submitted to earthly and sinful parents, is your Savior. For all of those parental melt-downs, and fatherly conniption fits and tantrums, and even the exasperated grandfather's “that’s not how we did it in our day,” Jesus is yours. In repentance, surrender them to Him. They are in the past, forgiven, abandoned at the cross. Jesus didn’t drag your sins up from the grave with Him on Easter. Our Heavenly Father has forgiven you, dad, for all your fatherly sins. Don’t let Satan continue to weigh you down with those moments. In faith, know, believe, trust and rely that you, too, are forgiven by Christ.

In humility, confess your failing to your kids and ask them for their forgiveness, too, without excuses or condition (you know, the “I’m sorry I yelled, but if you would have cleaned up your room…”) and pledge to do better next time. When you do that, you give your child the wonderful opportunity to share the Word of God with you, the Word that says, “I forgive you, Dad.” You might have to teach them to use those words; that’s OK, and it’s worth teaching. Because there, in the family, united with Christ in Baptism and grounded in the Word, there is Christ.

Dads: be at peace.
You are forgiven in Christ.
You are loved.
Amen.

             My Dad - Walt Meyer

"Have No Fear...Do Not Fear...Fear Not..." Matthew 10: 21-33

You remember in last week’s Gospel lesson, Jesus sent out the disciples into the world to do His continued work of compassion, healing the sick, driving out demons, and doing all things in His name.

You might imagine their excitement. They’ve been with Jesus for a year or so. They’ve seen and heard the incredible things Jesus has done: healing the sick, raising the dead, calming the Sea of Galilee. Truly, this was God who dwelled among them and His power, wisdom, and strength were phenomenal. And, now He was giving His authority to the disciples to distribute His compassion to the shepherd-less people of Israel and deliver the news that the Kingdom of heaven is at hand. What could go wrong?

“Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves… Beware of men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake to bear witness before them and the gentiles. When they deliver you over, do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that hour...” “Brother will deliver brother over to death and the father his child and children will rise against parents and have them put to death, and you will be hated by all for my name’s sake.”

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It’s a cup of cold water to the face, isn’t it? He gives a double-barrel blast of harsh reality to the disciples as they prepare to leave. Jesus knows what will happen to His disciples – immediately, these things will happen to a certain degree, but even more so after He ascends. Jesus knows that His disciples will be facing every type of persecution from His message being passively ignored, to the men physically thrown out of town, to being beaten, eventually even being martyred --- all because they will dare to preach Jesus.

In the midst of these warnings, Jesus speaks a very clear word of assurance: Do not be afraid. Three times, Jesus speaks against fear: have no fear, do not fear, fear not.

“Have no fear of them, for nothing is covered that will not be revealed or hidden that will not be known.” The disciples are armed with His Gospel message, and it will both cut like a razor into the infection of sin and bind up the hearts that have been cut deeply by the burden of guilt. His Word is powerful and it will not be stopped, no matter what the devil might throw against the disciples.

He says it again. “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”  The worst that can be taken from you is your physical death, yet you have the promise of eternity by grace through faith. Do you believe the Father’s wrath that lasts for eternity for those who deny Him? Do you trust the Father’s eternal care for those whom live under His grace? Their deepest fear, love and trust is directed to the Father – reflective in the First Commandment – not anyone else.

Jesus’ third word, “fear not,” acts as a final end to all excuses. Jesus uses a sparrow as his object lesson: two for a penny, Jesus says – that’s all they’re worth on the market. Yet, the Father knows when one of these little birds falls to the ground. If that’s true of a two-for-a-penny deal, how much more will he care for you? Do you think He doesn’t know about your family? Your house? Your business? Of course He does! And He will provide for you, both now and into eternity, so that not even the hairs on your head will be lost. Jesus never says that evil won’t come to His disciples. In fact, if anything, Jesus promises that suffering, difficulty, persecution, and even martyrdom will come for those who follow Him. But, out of the Father’s loving care, He will be with the disciples even if, even when they are suffering and dying.

Do we really believe that? Last week, in Bible class, the question was raised about when we are persecuted, when push comes to shove and it’s deny the name of Jesus or be killed, what is the Christian to do? What if it’s our loved ones who will be killed if we don’t deny Jesus, or our business destroyed, or our home taken? Can we pretend, lie, and say we deny Jesus while secretly still believing? Would such an act be forgiven? Would we still receive eternal salvation or would we be damned because of our public denial? 

Let’s dial the intensity down from life and death and see what we do with that, first. As a modern North American society, Christians have bought into the false dichotomy, “I’m afraid I’ll offend someone if I tell them about Jesus.” I suspect that the truth is much closer to this: we’re afraid of what people will think, say, or do towards me.

Think about it: we confess loudly on Sunday mornings, “I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth,” but on Tuesday at work when the discussion turns to evolution and how “Everyone knows it is true that the world evolved from a spec of dust and a cosmic electrostatic charge…”, we remain mum instead of defending the 7 day creation account of the Bible because we don’t want to be laughed at. On Thursday, sitting in the hair salon, a television show has a so-called expert saying that all religions basically believe the same thing and we are intolerant if we don’t accept that, and we don’t speak against that lie because we don’t want to be branded as a religious freak. After a discussion with a son or daughter that Jesus is the only way to eternal life becomes an out-right war of words, you back down and say, “Well, that’s what Pastor said in Bible class, but you know him…besides, that’s his opinion.” Do not be afraid…but we are.

So, what are we to do?

Repent. Repentance means turning away from what was done, being sorry and sad for what was done in the past, and vowing to return in faith to Jesus. Repent of the times we have been too afraid to speak. Turn away from that fear. Repent of the times we have been afraid to confess Jesus. Turn away from that fear. Repent of the times we have taken the easy way out instead of engaging those who need to hear. Turn away from that fear. Repent of the times we have loved our own comfort and earthly safety and first article gifts more than the eternal gifts Christ died to give us. Turn away from that fear and turn to Jesus, instead, clinging to His promises even when it seems impossible.

So, back to last Sunday’s Bible class discussion, repent - repent of the idea that we can pre-plan our sins banking that it’ll be OK because Jesus died for those sins, too. Our Epistle lesson is from Romans 6 – I would encourage you to read the whole chapter today. Paul speaks to the very truth that because Jesus died for us, we are forgiven, yes, baptized into His death and resurrection, but it does not excuse sinful behavior. Doing so cheapens grace, cheapens Jesus’ death and resurrection. “Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? May it not be so!” Paul writes. Our old self is crucified, remember, and not to be brought back to life. If the old self denies Jesus and discards the cross, it’s as if it is also disposing of the resurrection, as if saying “I don’t need Jesus because I can save myself by doing this terrible thing.”

“But, wait… It’s not like I am really denying Jesus. I’m just saying it – I’m lying to the authorities to preserve my life, or the lives of those whom I love.” It’s still a first commandment issue, placing yourself in God’s place, and a second commandment issue, lying by His name, that you have to save yourself or those whom you love because God’s not doing it in the way you want. “But it’s just this once – I won’t do it again!” Deliberate, intentional sin weakens the soul’s fight against temptation. Deny Jesus once, even under the guise of a lie, and when the temptation comes again, what’s the likely result? What happens when the lie becomes the truth?

Repent. And believe Jesus’ words: do not be afraid. And be His apostles. Remember, Jesus doesn’t say “Don’t be afraid, I was just kidding about going out into the world.” No, even with His words of prophetic warning, He still sends them out into the world, armed with His Word, His Spirit, and His comfort: do not be afraid.

Jesus can say that to the Twelve because He knows He will face worse than anyone can ever imagine. What the disciples will experience at the hands of the wicked and sinful men will be multiplied against Jesus as He is seized, beaten, convicted of a capitol crime and sentenced to death by one of the cruelest instruments of torture the world has ever devised. There, separated from both heaven and earth, He experiences hell on earth, taking into and onto Himself the entire, eternal, damnable punishment that our sins deserve. In that moment on the cross, Jesus died for all of the times in the weakness of our flesh that we were too afraid, in our weakness, to speak His name, to embarrassed to say He is the only way to eternal salvation, too “afraid to offend” by living the Christian faith, too afraid to be compassionate.

In the years ahead, Jesus’ words about persecution would take on truth that none of them could imagine. With the exception of St. John, all would die terrible, physical deaths for the name of Jesus, refusing to deny or denigrate Jesus’ name. In the centuries since then, Christians have followed in the footsteps of Jesus, and the Twelve, and the generations that went before, confessing the name of Jesus with their dying breath. Some such confessions are famous: Joan of Arc, the students at Columbine High School, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Others, the world will not know their names this side of heaven, like the martyrs in Iraq, the Christians in the Sudan, or the church in China.

The same baptismal water that washes away our sins and joins us to Christ’s death and resurrection also tattoos a spiritual target on our foreheads and hearts. So, to last Sunday’s Bible class question: if you were to have that life-or-death question put to you, do you deny Jesus and live, or confess Him and die, what do you do, what can you do? As a Christian, we are called to confess the name of Jesus, even if the option is horrific and terrifying. The follow-up question was, “what if the threat is against my kids, my spouse, other Christians – that if I deny Jesus, they would live?” The same truth holds. It is “Far better to be rejected and killed by enemies who themselves are mortal than to find out that, because of your unbelief and apostasy, the Father had become your eternal enemy,” (Gibbs, Matthew 1:1-11:1: 529). Remember, Jesus says three times – not once or twice, but three times – fear not! Do not fear your opponents, do not fear those who kill, do not fear your worth in the eyes of the Lord, for He loves you deeply and fully, even more than the sparrows in the air.

That promise is true for us, the saints of God in this place. In His compassion, Christ Jesus strengthens us as He sends us from this corner sanctuary to the perilous world around us. You have all of His gifts: He made you His in baptismal waters. He strengthens us with body and blood, given and shed for you. He reminds you over and over that you have been forgiven all of your sins in His name. He joins you with brothers and sisters in Christ to encourage each other and remind each other, “do not be afraid.” And then he places you in your vocation where He works through you in Christian service and witness to those around you.

In that vocation, you will have God-given opportunities to speak to others who do not know, believe in, and have eternal salvation in Christ Jesus. It might be happen with the contractor who comes to your house and asks about the crosses hanging on your wall, or the mechanic who asks you about what you did over the weekend, or the server who brings you your plate of food this afternoon, or the surgeon who asks how you can be so calm. Do not be afraid. Take a deep breath. On this Father’s Day, model that faith to your children. Be bold to stand, speak, and confess Christ, even when it is hard, difficult, and uncomfortable. And you, empowered by the Spirit of Christ, given His Word and His promise and His blessing of “Do not be afraid,” you open your mouth and you begin to speak. In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Jesus' Aching Guts - Matthew 9: 35-10:8

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson from Matthew 9.

You are probably familiar with IQ tests. IQ stands for Intelligence Quotient. It’s one way to try to quantify a person’s relative intelligence – in other words, to try to determine how smart one might potentially be. It’s not a perfect instrument, of course, but it’s been the gold standard for decades.

In the last 20 years or so, educators, psychologists, psychiatrists and sociologists have come to realize that there is more to life than just intelligence. A new term was used called emotional intelligence, usually abbreviated as EQ to make it parallel with IQ. This is used to not so much measure raw intellectual power but rather the ability of a person to see what is happening, to read the room, as they say, to register other’s emotions and have a proper response to them. As a result of this, we now pay more attention to words like empathy, sympathy and pity and what that means for us as people.

Empathy. You’ve probably heard that term before. Empathy comes into English from the German word Einfühlung. Literally, einfühlung means ‘feeling into’ – it’s the idea that you are feeling what someone else is feeling, perhaps not to the depth of breadth of their emotion, but you are at least tracking along with them. You have empathy if you see someone experiencing joy, or sadness, or fear and you likewise have a measure of joy, sadness, or fear along with them. It involves, first, seeing someone else’s situation from his perspective, and, second, sharing his emotions, including, if any, his distress. You might hear an empathetic person say, “That hurts my heart.” Empathy is good; it is important to help us gain another person’s perspective, to walk a mile in their shoes and gain some understanding of their zitsenleiben – another good German word - their place in life.

You may be more familiar with the word sympathy. Sympathy and empathy are not the same thing; they are quite different. Sympathy literally means “feeling along with.” It’s a feeling of care or concern for someone, but it stops short of putting yourself in their place. It implies distance. There is no shared emotion, only a personal reaction to what someone else is going through.

Then, of course, there is their close cousin pity. Pity stems from judgement and focuses on you - what you feel, your discomfort and displeasure at the yuckiness you see – not the other person. Pity acknowledges a situation but is quick to move on – after offering a condescending comment or two. If sympathy implies distance, pity demands separation.

So, why the lesson in sociological and psychological terms, huh? Glad you asked.

Jesus is traveling around from village to village, city to city, and everywhere he goes he is teaching, preaching and healing. What he discovers, time and time again, is that the crowd is harassed and helpless. St. Matthew uses a comparison that we can imagine, if not fully understand, saying that they were like sheep without a shepherd.

Shepherdless sheep are in a dangerous situation. Without someone to watch them, sheep are all too soon turned into sheep stew by a pack of marauding wild dogs. Without someone to guide them, sheep wander into thorny bushes that grab them by the wool and refuse to let them go, or wade too far out into the water where their wool drags them under and they drown. Without someone to direct them, sheep will literally eat themselves sick on fresh green grass. Without someone to calm them, sheep startle and spook, running willy-nilly until they are hopelessly, helplessly lost – easy pickings for a dishonest man looking to add another animal to his herd or some fresh meet to the family dinner table.

That’s the point of comparison. The people were a congregation without a pastor – not because the pastors weren’t there. Oh, no – they were there, alright. All of the people whose responsibilities include caring for the eternal souls and welfare of the people, feeding them God’s Word, blessing them with His name, imparting and delivering the gifts of God day in and day out, praying and interceding for them – all of these shepherd-pastors stood by and abandoned their flocks to be consumed by the wolves and bears and lions of the devil, the world, and their own sinful flesh.

And, meanwhile, as the sheep were devoured one by one by being led to take their eyes off of the promise of the coming Messiah, now fulfilled in Jesus, the shepherds got fat and sassy. They debated the fine intricacies of the Law and argued ways people were guilty of breaking the Law…all the while holding themselves up as high, and great, and holy men. They proffered themselves as near divine with practically sinless lives all the while looking down their pharaisaical noses at sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. Instead of having compassion of their own for these people of God, these sheep, who were wandering and in danger of being forever lost and damned, they passed by, lest they dirty themselves in the process. They were compassion-less for those who needed compassion.

Jesus sees the crowds and their sheep-like situation. What does He do?

Well, he could have had pity on them. “Poor people,” he could have said. “If you had only paid attention to all of the prophets that my Father sent you, you wouldn’t be in this mess.” He could have had sympathy. “Yeah, you’ve got a real situation here. You need to figure something and find someone to lead you out but, hey, at least you have each other.” He could have had empathy. He could have wandered around with them, listening to their concerns while also feeling lost and empty, just like them.

But He doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, He has compassion on them. Compassion is empathy put into action. If empathy hits your heart, compassion is a visceral reaction, meaning your guts hurt and you have to respond. Compassion is mercy put into flesh-and-blood action. But compassion also means getting dirty, getting down on someone’s level where they are. Think Good Samaritan, here. Compassion moves you from inaction and into action and it leads you in the dirt – figuratively or literally – down in the ditch in the dust or the muck. Compassion inserts you into their pain, in their misery, whether it’s in the unemployment office, in the homeless shelter, in the chemo room, at the death-bed, or in the funeral home as they stare down the valley of the shadow – getting down eyeball to eyeball with them and be with them in that hard, difficult place and time. Compassion puts you on their level. Compassion says “I’m not better than you…I’m with you, and I won’t let you be alone, and I will help you in this.” Compassion is visceral.

Jesus has compassion. He isn’t some distant, far-off and aloof Divinity. This Jesus is God-in-flesh, perfect God who comes to dwell among His own dear people. This same Jesus, who was with God from the beginning, now stands as a man among people and what He sees hurts.  His pain is so deep that His guts hurt.

Remember: He’s been performing miracles all through Capernaum and the surrounding area. Go back and read the three chapters prior to this morning’s Gospel lesson. He’s been busy: from healing Peter’s mother in law, to calming the storm threatening to sink the disciples’ ship, to raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead, Jesus acted with mercy. But, St. Matthew never says that these things – not even the death of the little girl – caused splancthon, compassion, His guts to hurt.

But the shepherdless people whose pastors failed them, they make Jesus’ guts hurt. So, Jesus reacts and demonstrates His compassion. But how Jesus demonstrates compassion might be a bit surprising.

He tells His disciples to pray. Isn’t that remarkable?  He tells them to pray to the Father that He sends out workers into the harvest field.

Matthew 9:37-38 - Full of Eyes
Used with permission

And, then to further demonstrate His compassion, He sends out the 12 disciples – for the first time identified as apostles, meaning “sent ones” – out into the harvest field. They are to be instruments and vehicles of His compassion, delivering it to those who were shepherdless. “And He called to Him His twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every affliction.” The miracles they perform, the raising from the dead, the exorcisms, and the healing will all be demonstrations of His power, yes – but more than that, of His compassion.

Yet, His compassion is found, chiefly, not in miracles, or exorcisms, or even the raising from the dead in this life. His compassion is found in the cross. The Kingdom is at hand, Jesus said – the time for His Cross is drawing closer. Because of His great compassion, He will suffer and die and rise for the entire world. His guts will hurt – so much so that he sweats great drops of blood. But it’s not just his guts…it’ll be his back from the whips, and his face from the slaps, and his head from the crown of thorns, and his spirit…his spirit as He realizes that even His Father in heaven has abandoned him in the face of hell on earth as the entire sin-filled burden of the world is emptied out upon Him. He takes it all, out of His great compassion for you.

Ours is a world that needs compassion now, more than ever. Our problems in society, they’re not about black or blue, brown or white, rich or poor, donkeys or elephants, inner city or out in the country. It’s that people are acting like sheep without the Good Shepherd. So, demonstrate Christ’s compassion to anyone and everyone. Remember, compassion is empathy put into action, mercy with skin and blood. In His compassion, pray for those around you. In His compassion, speak the name of Jesus without shame and without bashfulness. In His compassion, confess the truth that there is salvation in no other name under heaven. In His compassion, be bold to invite those who are like sheep without a shepherd to the fold so that they, too, may receive the compassion of Jesus in Word and Sacrament.

This week, I pray your guts hurt for others. And, as your guts hurt, I pray you are filled by the Spirit of God with compassion to show them Jesus.

Questions, Questions, Questions - Matthew 9: 9-13

“When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

“Why,” indeed. Why is Jesus eating with such people as…these?

Question: Who? Who were these tax collectors and sinners?

Tax collectors were, universally, disliked. There were several layers of the ancient world tax system, and several layers of how taxes were collected. We might assume Matthew was one of those whose job traditionally kept a heavy thumb on the scale, but we neither know that for sure. So, for the sake of honesty all the way around, let’s just say that the system was rife with ways for corrupt tax collectors to exercise their greed and corruption. The result was tax collectors were all guilty by association. Regardless, whether only slightly overcharging or massively defrauding his fellow Israelites, we can say that Matthew and his cronies were just as sinful as anyone else, then or now, so they were crooks. They impoverished their already cash-strapped fellow Israelites and there were not enough checks and balances in the system to stop such thing.

And, then there were the sinners. This was, presumably, a broad-stroke, general description of various kinds of the dregs of society. People who didn’t care or have the common care and courtesy to show public respect for the commonly held standards of morality of society. Every society has them. We have them, even here in Enid.

So, another question: why does this teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners? Jesus will answer that, for the pharisees and for us, and it might surprise us almost as much as it did His first-century listeners as we discover His reason.

Let me ask another question, first, to help focus on Jesus’ answer. Here it is: why did the pharisees care so much? To rephrase, why did it bother them that Jesus was eating with these people. What was so obtrusive of this that it would become an excuse they would offer for Jesus’ crucifixion? What was so different of this meal, in the home of the tax collector, that bothered them?

It’s tempting to simplify and say, here, that when dining with others, it was implying equality, a meal of fellowship and acceptance with others. Maybe sometimes but not always. Invitation did not always mean full acceptance and fellowship. You might recall in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus was invited to a pharisee’s home for dinner. Invited – not crashed. While Jesus was welcomed in as a guest, he was not a highly regarded guest. Jesus wasn’t welcomed by His host, His feet weren’t washed, His head wasn’t anointed with oil. The point is Jesus was a guest in the pharisee’s house, but He was far from the guest of honor, far from full fellowship. Jesus wasn’t even greeted at the door. You could say Jesus was put in His place – literally – as though the pharisee said, “You are here, Jesus, but you are here on my terms.”  

This does not happen with Jesus. This man eats with anyone. High, low; respected, despised; good, bad. That was different about Him. But that was the rub. Such behavior wasn’t respectful enough for that society. It wasn’t the way propriety was managed. There wasn’t a system, an acknowledgement of the way the world worked out there with greater and lesser rungs on the social ladder. And, they were right. Because in Jesus’ presence, there is no higher and no lower. He did not play that game. All rankings, dissolved; all distinction, destroyed; all societal rungs, broken. But, how would we function that way, the pharisees said. How will we figure out who’s more important, powerful, acceptable, or righteous without these in place? It would change everything! He cannot be allowed to overthrow our culture, our society, our system.

Exactly. He desires to overthrow everything, everything about us that would separate us from Him.

He wants to overthrow our pride that comes from thinking and comparing, the idea that I am better than you, or you are better than the person sitting two rows behind you, or you are better than a coworker, a neighbor, the girl checking your groceries this afternoon, the crew sealing the roads around downtown, or the man about your age who is still working at Brahms. I thank God I am not like him…or her…or them. He overthrows such foolish, separating, dividing pride and prideful thinking of better than or less than. In the presence of Jesus, there is no “Better.” If you think there is, you find yourself standing outside the meal, standing outside of Jesus, asking, “But, why?” Jesus desires to overthrow that attitude.

He wants to overthrow the fear, the fear that lives inside that says you are an imposter – that if people knew, if they really knew you, they would ostracize you from work, the neighborhood, the team, relationships, even the congregation. And, in the darkest moments, moments when you’re confronted with your sins, with your memories, with death, you wonder if there is even a place for you in the Kingdom. Some days it’s so bad you can hardly believe there is a place for you, even among the tax collectors and sinners. He wants to overthrow this, too.

This is why they asked, “Why does this teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

Now, we are ready for Jesus’ answer. He says, “Well, it’s because the well ones don’t need a doctor. I didn’t come to call righteous people. I came to call sinners!” In His mind, there are only two categories: the righteous ones, who are well, and the sick ones who desperately need a doctor to heal them.

The first category, the well ones, the righteous ones, is easy. It’s easy because it’s empty. There is no one in it. Not even the ones who think they deserve to belong there.

The second category, the sick ones, the sinful ones, is also easy. It’s everyone, everyone is in it. If no one is righteous, then everyone is guilty. Everyone is sick. Everyone needs a doctor. And Jesus is the doctor, and He has come for you and for all.

By the way…this made the leaders mad when Jesus spoke these words then, and it makes people mad today when we proclaim Jesus words. Because it’s not about them, it’s about Jesus and Him alone.

This is really quite remarkable: He is the one, the only, physician who has that kind of authority. He cleansed the leper, because He was willing to. He healed the sick servant of the centurion from a distance because He had that authority. He raised up Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, and He rebuked a storm like youth would scold a rebellious child, and the storm obeyed, the sickness and the storm both reacting to His authority. He threw demons into a herd of pigs, and after forgiving a paralytic, He raised the man to health. The pharisees wanted to kill Him, remember, but He didn’t let them do it until He was ready. Then, He went into the Holy City and cast evil out of the temple, with authority, and He tried to gather them all to Himself – all of them, even the ones who hated Him enough to plan to kill Him. And He mourned them, because they were unwilling: unwilling to hear, to listen, to believe His authority as the Son of God.

But, He was willing to do the work of His Father, to be the doctor, to come down to the place of damnable illness and the illness of damnation, to be the great Physician. He turned His back to those who smote Him, and then His Father turned His holy back to His Son, for as Jesus had once eaten with the sinners when no one else dared to do so, He was numbered with the sinners in a way no one else could do. And, He set a place at the table for you.

And then, with authority, doing what no one else could do, He rose, soul and body. The Great Physician, embodied, rose. He broke the friend and the tool of sin. He defeated the enemy that, to this day, still hovers over every meal we share and every joy we experience, and He undid death. He rose, immortal forever. In His resurrection, He heals you. And, just as surely as He has forgiven your sins and my sins and the sins of every saint who needs the Great Doctor of Souls, He joins you, body and soul, to Himself in Holy Baptism. Then, to strengthen you in body and spirit, He invites you to His Table where He is both the host and the meal, itself. And, one day, there will be another banquet, a banquet of rich food and fine wine, a banquet hosted by He who is both the Great Physician and the very Bread of Life: this Jesus, who will raise and heal us forever.

And there, in that great resurrection, there will no longer be any need to ask questions. The why’s, who’s, when’s, and what’s, will all be answered for us.

Who? You - the Church
What? His mercy.
Where? The cross.
When? Forever
Why? Jesus

Pentecost: Jesus Makes Empty Glasses Sing - Acts 2: 1-21

This morning’s Epistle lesson (Acts 2:1-21) is Peter’s first full sermon as an apostle. Today we only get to hear the first part of the sermon, but it’s the part we love. We love it because Peter preaches Law and Gospel and people repent and are saved. The perfect Lutheran sermon! The Law is clear and sharp: you killed Jesus. The Gospel is unexpected and amazing: But God raised Him up, whom you crucified, to be God and Lord. And the result is life – people repent and are saved.

Now, this is Pentecost Sunday. There is a great temptation to take this text and turn it into an evangelism sermon, to explain three simple steps on how to present the Law, how to pursue with questions, and then how to apply the Gospel. It’s the standard Pentecost sermon formula.

But I don’t want to talk to you as an evangelist today. I want to speak to you as a child – a child of God.

Have you ever seen someone play a crystal goblet?  A musician partially fills a crystal goblet with water, wets a finger, and gently rubs the finger around the rim of the goblet. The friction creates a harmonic vibration; the crystal begins to hum. Different goblets, glass thickness, water volume, and pressure produce different tones and pitches. A skilled musician, with a table full of carefully filled glasses, can actually play entire pieces of music. 

If you have time this week, show this to your grandkids and watch their faces. I will (almost) guarantee that as the musician begins, after the initial whoas and cools, they will sit, quietly, staring, eyes and mouths agape, caught up in wonder and amazement as the crystal starts to sing.

Now, I want you to listen to this text like a child with wonder, lost at what God does with empty glasses.

I want you to look at this text differently. Listen again to verse 14: “Now Peter stood up among the eleven and lifted up his voice and addressed them…”

Peter preaches. That’s the wonder. That’s what I want you to see today.

Now, I admit it’s not that wonderful that Peter preaches. He’s the one never at a loss for words. Think back to the three years he was with Jesus. On the Mount of Transfiguration, “I will build three tabernacles for you, and Moses, and Elijah!” On the ocean, “Tell me to come out to you and I will!”  

It seems Peter is never at a loss for words. Not even the night Jesus was betrayed. Not even then. “Though they all fall away Lord, not me…I will follow you to prison and to death.” But that night Peter lost Jesus. There, in the garden and in the courtyard, he was asked three times if he knew Jesus; three times he said “No,” the last time even adding in curses to make the denial more emphatic. He used his words to empty himself of every last drop of Jesus.

He was a shell of a disciple; an empty glass if I ever saw one.

And that is what makes this moment so wonderful.

You see, it’s not about the glass. It’s not about how full or empty you are. It’s all about the One who can touch a glass and make it sing.

That’s what we see here. That’s what Jesus is doing. He has been raised from the dead and ascended into heaven. Now He sends forth His Spirit and now He touches on all sorts of glasses. He touches Old Testament, Psalms and the Prophets. And He makes them sing in ways we never knew. And He touches fishermen to open their mouths to speak in ways they never dreamed possible. And He opens ears to hear an old, old song in an old language. People are confused – what is God doing? And then they see Peter, an empty glass, and Jesus touches it and makes it sing.

God, by grace, can make any empty vessel sing.

Here it is, Pentecost, and I’m not letting you hear Pentecost. Am I frustrating you? It’s kinda like I’m keeping you outside the chancel doors, or down in the basement, or I’m making you watch this through the sacristy door, unable to get the whole picture. But I’m doing this on purpose because I want you to see something. I want you to see a whole ‘nother sermon. The very fact that Peter preaches is a sermon on its own.

Anyone who dares to speak for Christ, to be His voice, needs to listen to this sermon.

When you stand up as a god-parent for a child and you confess on behalf of the child…

You visit a friend in the hospital and you offer a prayer before surgery…

You call up a friend five weeks after they lost their spouse, just to say hi and see how they’re doing…

One of the greatest fears in our society is public speaking. It ranks right up there with heights and clowns. I’ve watched people make evangelism calls, I’ve listened to people have conversations about Jesus, I’ve attended conferences and led workshops on how to do all of this, and most of all, I’ve been among other Christians in 4 different parishes and you know what I think? I think, as a rule, people, well-meaning, well-grounded, well-faithed Christians are, deep-down, afraid to speak for Jesus. I understand why – trust me. To dare to say to other Christians, “Thus saith the Lord,” is daunting. And, I think our fear stems in this: we know what empty vessels we are.

How can you speak a word of hope or comfort to your neighbor who just lost his job when you are afraid for yourself and glad it wasn’t you laid off?

How do you speak with empathy when your brother calls and says that he and his wife are separating because they just don’t love each other anymore while you are getting ready to celebrate your own anniversary?  

You visit with a friend when suddenly, your friend begins to sob, telling you how their world is falling apart and asking what to do. What they don’t know is that your own world seems to be crumbling around you. How do you help another when you need help yourself?

How do you do this when you’re an empty glass?

Let someone else preach the Gospel for you. You’re not alone. God has not left you alone. In baptism, God joined you to a people and He has surrounded you with a cloud of witnesses – people who speak of Jesus for you. When you can’t speak for Jesus, let someone else speak of Jesus for you.

Those Bible verses you memorized in confirmation class? Let those verses speak. Maybe a hymn verse you sang on Sunday - use that. Take a story from Bible class. Take something you read in Lutheran Witness or the LWML Quarterly, take the Bible verse from the morning’s Portals of Prayer or Lutheran Hour devotion and let the Holy Spirit use that word from your mouth. Let someone else preach through you. The message isn’t yours; it’s God’s and He’s given it to us to share with others.

What you discover is that Jesus, by the power of the Holy Spirit, can make any empty vessel sing.

And, if it’s you who are feeling empty, when life has drained you of everything, then come to this place. If you need to, come here and stand in the narthex or sit in the stairwell and just listen. Listen to what God has done – He has taken this Jesus whom we crucified, God has taken this Jesus and make Him Lord and Christ over all.

This Jesus now rules over the world and he causes people to sing again and again – poets and prophets, doctors and lawyers, mechanics and farmers, engineers and attorneys, teachers and preachers, and octogenarian grandmothers and newly confirmed teens – He causes them to sing the Gospel for you and for others.

And, like that like a child, you are lost in wonder.

And suddenly, you hear your voice begin to sing in endless praise.

 

Jesus Ascends Yet Remains (Transferred) - Luke 24: 44-53

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

This past Thursday, the Church celebrated the ascension of Jesus. If you missed it or forgot, don’t feel bad. Had my daily devotion book not mentioned it, I probably would have as well. It’s easy to miss. After all, it lands on a Thursday. We didn’t gather here for worship. Ascension doesn’t have the romance of Christmas or the punch of Easter. Yet and still, as an historical event, it happened. Biblically, Luke recorded it twice, in Luke 24 and Acts 1. The early church agreed, making sure that it was confessed in not only the Apostle’s Creed, but the Nicene and Athanasian Creeds as well. So, hear again the Ascension Gospel from Luke 24:

“Then Jesus said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you, that everything written about me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” 45 Then he opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, 46 and said to them, “Thus it is written, that the Christ should suffer and on the third day rise from the dead, 47 and that repentance for[a] the forgiveness of sins should be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. 48 You are witnesses of these things. 49 And behold, I am sending the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city until you are clothed with power from on high.” 50 And he led them out as far as Bethany, and lifting up his hands he blessed them. 51 While he blessed them, he parted from them and was carried up into heaven. 52 And they worshiped him and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, 53 and were continually in the temple blessing God.” (Luke 24: 44-53)

You’ve probably seen the various artwork of Jesus’ ascension, whether it is one of the classic works by Dali, Rembrandt, or Tissot, or a simpler picture on the front of your Sunday school lesson. Universally, the painting shows Him with His hands raised in blessing. That’s all we need on this commemoration of the ascension is to look at the hands of Jesus, raised in blessing, and we can read in them the meaning and blessing of Jesus.

These are the hands, born in infant frailty, that held close to His mother, Mary, while He nursed. These hands learned to hold a pencil and write the words of Scripture that He knew by heart when He challenged the teachers of the Law as a 12 year old. These hands held a hammer or saw or chisel while he worked with Joseph. These are hands that touched the eyes of the blind, the ears of the deaf, and the tongue of the mute. These warm hands took hold of the pale, cold, dead hands of a little girl and restored life to the girl and then restored the girl to her parents waiting outside. Read through the Gospels and pay attention to what Jesus hands did – stretching out, touching, grasping – always with personal love, personal contact, and personal attention to the person standing, sitting, lying in front of him. Those hands weren’t afraid to get dirty, to be contaminated, or to touch the unclean. The Savior of the World came to be with sinners, to rescue sinners, and to destroy sin. One by one, Jesus reached into the world of death and destruction, chaos and darkness; one by one, Jesus touched sinners; one by one, Jesus healed – never en masse, in bulk, or by volume.

These are hands that gathered the little children unto himself, holding, hugging and kissing them. These are hands that reached out, just in time, to snag a doubting and sinking Simon Peter. With these hands, he broke bread and raised the cup and said, “take and eat; take and drink.” These hands were held out for Thomas to see, to touch, and to believe.

Greatest of all, these hands were pinned to the cross by nails. The hands that had done so much for others did nothing to save Himself. Instead, those nails assured Jesus did everything to save others. Those scars, presented to Thomas the week after Easter, those hands, raised in blessing, those hands tell us what we need to know of the blessing of Jesus on Ascension day.

What does that mean for us this day? Those scars tell us that Jesus took your sins, your punishment upon Himself and went to the cross for you. That Jesus was forsaken – alone and abandoned by His disciples, His friends, and His Father in heaven – so you would not be forsaken by God but be forgiven. That because Jesus died for you and rose for you, and because you are baptized into His death and resurrection, you will be made alive as children of God. Because Jesus hands were once stretched out on the cross, they are today stretched out in blessing upon His disciples. The one who ascends and blesses carries the marks of the cross on his hands. No cross, no blessing. Cross, blessing. That is why when I speak the blessing to you, it is done so with the sign of the cross, whether it’s on your forehead or in the air. That is what Jesus means to you at the Ascension this day: life and blessing won and given.

Now… do not ever think that Jesus ascension means He has gone away. Do not think of the cloud that hid Jesus’ departure as an escalator that took Jesus “into heaven,” as if it is a location far, far away. Before Jesus ascended, He promised that He is with us wherever we might be. Could you imagine the chaos had He not ascended; had He remained physically located only in one place at one time? You can hear it, can’t you: “I’ve got Jesus, yes I do. I’ve got Jesus. Why not you?” No…because Jesus has ascended, He is able to be all places at all times. He is with us, here, right now…and with the saints of God in Walburg, Texas…and in Brownstown, Indiana…and Boston, Mass…and Taiwan…and Pakistan…and St. Petersburg - both Russia and Florida - and anywhere else on earth (or outer space, for that matter) His children gather. He promised it. How He does it, we cannot fully fathom. And we don’t need to. He promised it, and that is enough.

With His hands held high, Jesus ascends into the cloud. This was a special cloud, I think – one which had appeared before in Scripture. We saw the cloud at the Transfiguration. We saw it in the Old Testament when the cloud was above the two angels on the ark of the covenant and when the people of God journeyed by day through the wilderness to the promised land. The cloud was the guarantee of the presence of God. So, at the Ascension, the cloud marks Jesus physically leaving behind the world of man and returning to the realm of God. Jesus is no longer with us in our ordinary way of thinking. Jesus is now present and does things in God’s way, also no longer constrained to earthly ways of doing things. He is still a man, but a resurrected, glorified and ascended man who is also fully God.  

Earlier, I said that most paintings of the ascension show Jesus rising above the disciples, rising into the air. There is a Lutheran artist in Michigan by the name of Edward Riojas who has a different take on the Ascension. In his painting, at the top of the painting, all you see of Jesus is His nail-marked feet. Behind the feet is a bright orb, as if it is the sun. Along the bottom are dozens of small people, the saints who worship the risen and ascended Jesus. Behind the orb is the green, leafy top of a tree whose trunk is made out of the cross of Christ, clearly marked with Pilate’s inscription, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” The base of the tree is firmly planted into a lush, beautiful hillside with trees in the background and a church off on the horizon. What is interesting for me, though, is sitting with his back to the tree trunk is a pastor, writing away at his sermon as pages and pages of the manuscript lay around him. It’s a powerful reminder to me that Jesus, ascended into heaven, is yet present both in the words the pastor preaches but also in the ministry the pastor provides. Through the pastor, in Word and Sacrament, Christ is present.

Jesus has not gone away. He is with us now, more powerfully than ever before. He is with us more powerfully than when the disciples saw him. He is among us. And we live, then, in the presence of our ascended and ever-present Lord. He is with us. We cannot be destroyed. Easter lives in us. Christ is risen! We are risen! He paves the way to victory for us. He leads us, giving us strength and courage for each day – whatever it might bring us – and leaving us the promise of His bodily return, soon, as well.

We are here today as the disciples were – with great joy. We’re not wringing our hands in fear – Christ is with us. We’re not tapping our fingers in worry or hurry – Christ is here. We are here with hands that make the sign of the cross, reminding us that we are baptized into Christ. We are here with that are open, ready to receive the gifts of God in His Supper. Our hands are so full of the blessings of God, if we stopped to ponder them all – if we used our hands to write them all down – we would be stunned at the good and gracious gifts God gives to us. Our hands pick up the food God gives to nourish us. Our hands open the door to our homes that give us shelter. Our hands button shirts, zip up pants, and tie shoes to clothe us. Our hands put on glasses so we can see, insert hearing aids so we can hear, open medication bottles to keep our bodies healthy and strong. Our hands are sore from working outside yesterday in the yard, our hands still sting from applauding a grandson who hit his first little-league home run. Our hands…gifts from God.

And, our Ascended Lord uses your hands, filled with His blessings, to leave this Holy House and share those blessings with others. You serve others as the hands of Christ. That means that when you reach out to shake a hurting hand, you show them Christs hands of compassion. When you change a stinky diaper, you do it with the servant-hands of Christ. When you call your parents or your kids, you dial with the hands of Christ who spoke to his mother with love.  When you buy a bottle of water from the little league team, you pay for it with the hands of Christ that summoned children to come to him. When you buy a sandwich for a man on the street-corner, your hands echo Jesus’ hands as He once fed 5000. When you fold your hands and pray with your neighbor who struggles from depression, your hands imitate Jesus’ hands who prayed for the women of Jerusalem. When you reach out and touch the sick or the dying, you share the touch of Jesus who once raised the dead. When you hold the hand of a child who has been bullied, you share the gentle touch of the Shepherd. When you touch your spouse’s cheek, you touch with the hands of the One who is Love.  In those moments, the love of Christ is present in you and through you. He has ascended, but He is still very much here.

 

Mothers: God's First Blessing to Us

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

Today, May 10, is the annual second-Sunday-of-May celebration of Mother’s Day. Begun in the late 1800s, it was codified by Woodrow Wilson in 1914 as the annual, national celebration of mothers. Carnations are a common sight on Mother’s Day, as are cards, chocolates, and breakfast in bed.

When you think of motherhood, who is the first person who comes to mind? Who are your “Mothers-as-heroes?” For most of us, women and men, I suspect that is our own mother, the woman who gave birth to us, nurtured us and reared us. Men may think of our wives, the mothers of our own children. Perhaps, some of you also think of your daughter who has a child of her own. Out of curiosity, for all of you mothers out there, did any of you thought first of yourself?

In the history of motherhood, there is truly one woman who must among the pantheon of mothers and the Mount Rushmore of Moms: Eve. This woman was, in every conceivable way, a pioneer in her field. She started it all – the mother of all mothers. Even her name means “Mother of Every Living Thing!” She was in uncharted territory. Before her, there is no history of childbirth. She had no mother to ask, “Is this normal? Did you feel this happen?” She couldn’t get information from friends. It was BC – Before Computers – and she had no way to access What to Expect When You Are Expecting.  In fact, she was such the overachiever that she started out with twins!

If you look up the word “Blessed” in your Bible concordance, one thing will jump out at you (I hope): that every time the word blessed is used to talk about humans being blessed by God, it means that the person has been given a gift of God. If you look up “blessed” in a dictionary, it will say something like, “Having good fortune bestowed or conferred upon.” To be blessed by God is to have His Fatherly, good fortune poured out on us. Usually, but not always, this also includes His name being added in a special way as well.

Mother’s Day may be a secular celebration, but the Church has been celebrating the vocation of motherhood since Eve. I’m using this word, “vocation.” It gets used in the secular world, so let me explain it. It’s more than just a job. A Christian vocation is the calling in which God works through us to those around us. In our vocation, we demonstrate faith, through love and service, to our neighbors. There are lots of vocations – student, teacher, employee, employer, pastor, citizen, child and parent, just to name a half-dozen. The list is almost endless because the ways God works in and through us to help others is almost endless.

In the vocation of motherhood, God works through mothers to rear children. When a mother nurses, changes a diaper, helps a baby crawl and walk, goes to the doctor, God works through the mother. When a mother encourages a child, God works through the mother. When she made a sack lunch, or packed it in a favorite lunch kit, or added a note that said, “Have a good day, sweetie,” she was being Christ to her child. When she taught her son to tie a shoe, or a daughter how to ride a bike, she did so with the joy of Jesus. When she disciplined, it was with the love of God who disciplines His own dear children. Through mothers, God blesses the world.

There is no such thing as a perfect mother – not your mom, not your wife, not your own self. That is a huge thing to know. Not even Mary, Jesus’ mother, was perfect – despite our Catholic friends’ claim to the contrary. If satan tries to tell you that you are a failure as a mother because you got frustrated at your kiddo, or you burned dinner, or you didn’t react fast enough to keep your toddler from tumbling and breaking an arm, that is his lying to you about you. Mothers – all of you – stand at the foot of the cross today. Jesus has died for you and forgives you your maternal mistakes.

Mothers truly do follow in Eve’s footsteps. There were those times that mothers’ sinful nature reared its ugly head, times she sinned against her husband, her children, against God, and even against herself. God has a remedy for mothers. In fact, wonder of wonders, God in His mercy, used the vocation of motherhood to rescue fallen humanity when Mary gives birth to His Son, Jesus, Who dies to forgive mothers. Forgiveness, from the fountain of the cross through the font of Baptism, washes over mothers fully and completely in Christ Jesus, and from mothers to their own children.

I realize that not every mother is Carol Brady and Claire Huxtable. Many are more like Peg Bundy. If you were adopted, you thank God for your biological mother who gave birth to you and then entrusted you to the woman who reared you as her own. If you were habitually mistreated, seek solace in the arms of your Heavenly Father. And if you have a good mother, thank God for the blessings He has given and continues to give you through her. It’s OK to see your mom through rose colored glasses and to choose to remember the good things she has done for you while forgetting the times she made you eat liver and onions or go to bed before Dancing with the Stars was finished. Because in those things, even the ones you didn’t like, those things were made holy in the blood of Jesus and done in faith in Christ. In that plate of microwaved, low-salt fish, God was at work for you through her loving hands.

To all of you mothers who still are mothering your own children – especially children in your own home – you have a true blessing. Remember, a blessing is a gift of God. That doesn’t mean motherhood is easy – far from it! But, with God’s help and by His grace, you do that Godly work of being a mom. And, to all of you mothers who mother from a distance, whose children are grown and on their own, perhaps with their own children, be a “senior stateswoman.”  Share the beauty of your blessed vocation. Encourage, exhort, pray, and mentor younger mothers. Don’t sigh about “back in my day,” and lament how things used to be. You are not the mother of today’s child. Instead of critique, encourage and share your own blessing in Jesus’ name.

A long time ago, a wonderful saint whom I’ll call Annette, called me a day or two before Mother’s Day. She asked me one question: “Are you preaching about mothers on Sunday?” Why, I asked. “Because,” she said, “I chose to not have children or get married and I always feel left out while every other woman in the room gets praised. You know who I feel like? Like the Samaritan woman at the well, all alone, while everyone else gathers and laughs.” That resonated with me, and still, 20 years later, I remember her pain in those words. Some women chose to be neither wife nor mother. Others, for whatever reason, God has not allowed the blessing of motherhood. And, I know there are some who lost a child all-too-soon. None of those things make you “less than.” And, to Annette, and any other woman who has felt like the woman at the well, left out from the group, I am sad that has happened to you. Dear sister and child of God, then in your unique vocation, be that Christian model of a faithful woman who is able to watch, care for, and love others with that special gift that God has given you, pray for those who are mothers, and weep with those who weep. But know this: you do none of those things alone.

So, this Mother’s Day, flip the script for just a second. Instead of thinking of yourself, your vocation as mother - or not a mother – think of yourself in the vocation of child. Regardless your age, you are the child of a woman whom God chose to give you life. Whatever your vocation might be, and in this way, it applies to us men as well, join in giving thanks to God for your mom, the woman who reared you, cared for you, and loved you – even if it wasn’t your blood-mother. Remember, and stand at the foot of the cross with your mother, remembering Jesus forgives her just as He forgives you for your childish and childlike sins. And all of us, thank God for His gift of mothers.