Lord, Have Mercy

No manuscript today. I simply shared the pastoral letter writtwn by LCMS president, Rev. Matthew Harrison, after last week's pro-abortion legislation passed in Illinois and New York.

You can listen to me reading it here, http://podpoint.com/woodencrosses/lord-have-mercy

If you would rather read his letter, go to https://blogs.lcms.org/2019/lcms-presidents-statement-regarding-gubernatorial-actions-expanding-abortion-in-new-york-and-illinois/?fbclid=IwAR1KhMfPUJRpzRHoIwrX8CCxNXjquErkohWzsvNRsw92ZWdH8phb-3uxGNs

-JFM

The Best for Last - John 2:1-12

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

The party had run out of wine. It was Jesus’ fault. Boy, that will get your attention, won’t it – to lay blame at Jesus’ sinless feet. But, in this case, it’s true. Well, at least, it’s partly true. It’s partly Jesus fault, as well as the fault of His disciples and His mother, Mary, because they were guests at the celebration. Presumably, they had helped consume the wine, eating and drinking along with everyone else at the celebration. Therefore, Jesus – as well as each guest who had enjoyed a glass of wine – was at fault for running out of wine.

Now, that’s a different way of thinking about things, isn’t it? Contrast that with our modern, North American mindset. Imagine running out of beer at a Texas wedding. The guests would be in high revolt, and the fingers of blame and shame would be pointing right at the bride and groom. It’s their fault – they didn’t plan properly. They didn’t take into account his frat brothers showing up, or her crazy Uncle Eddie who was sloshed before the first toast. No, in our culture when you are invited to a wedding celebration, you expect that, as the guest, you will be wined and dined at the host’s expense. Failure to be fed or lubricated lies at the foot of the host.

It was a different world in Jesus’ time. Like today, yes, the hosts had responsibility to take care of the guests’ needs, but – believe it or not – the guests also bore a certain responsibility to the hosts. They called it the duty of reciprocation. But, truly, it was the summary of the second table of the Commandments, “Love your neighbor as yourself,” put into practice.

Jesus, as the head of this unique family, was the one who would be called upon to act. Mary gives Jesus important information: they have no wine. Her statement is a prayer, of sorts. She is giving information; she is identifying the problem; she is also identifying the One who can resolve the problem by providing the needed wine. It wasn’t as much a request as it was a statement of faithfulness and understanding: Jesus will act. You know this because she tells the stewards standing nearby, “Do whatever He says.”

But, why must Jesus act? How can Mary speak with such confidence? Several reasons: Jesus is her Son; He is the head of the household; there is a cultural obligation to meet. What Maray misses, though, is a greater reason - Jesus does this to fulfill the Law: Love your neighbor.

Love your neighbor. Luther explains it this way: you show love by not hurting nor harming our neighbor, but helping and befriending him in his needs. Jesus helps and befriends the unnamed groom.

But it’s just a wedding. Why does Jesus care? It’s just some wine. It’s just a moment of embarrassment. This is small potatoes. It’s not like other narrative es we know, other times when Jesus steps in, like the centurion’s servant who was dying, or the demon-possessed boy, or the 5000 who could riot if not fed, it’s not Lazarus who was 3-days dead in the tomb.

That’s exactly the point: Jesus is fulfilling the Law by demonstrating what love looks like, even if it is “only” over wine. Jesus demonstrates His love for us, even in what seems to be the small stuff. Jesus doesn’t quantify love as big or small; He simply loves. Yet, His love is anything but simple. It is full, complete, love without boundary or limit. Jesus’ love is perfect in quality; it is unending in quantity.

Imagine it was your best friend’s wedding in crisis. You might run down to the 7-11 to grab a couple bottles of Boone’s Farm to give everyone enough for a final toast. You might run a little interference to take the heat off the groom. You might do this for a best friend, but if it’s just someone you know and aren’t particularly close to, would you do the same? We qualify our neighborly love to determine who we serve. We quantify our love to figure out how much we will love. Jesus does neither.

Jesus love is extraordinary, demonstrated in His own time and in His own way to his neighbor. It’s also demonstrated without qualification or quantification. What else can Jesus do, but bring the best in caring for His neighbor. This isn’t Two Buck Chuck; this is the kind of wine kept in locked, climate-controlled cellars and reserved for only the most intimate of friends and family. But that’s who these people are for Jesus: the groom’s guests are Jesus’ neighbors, all of them recipients – even unknowingly, but still recipients – of His loving action. And, it’s not just a little bit of the good stuff. This is somewhere around 150 gallons, which would be around 700 bottles of excellent, magnificent wine. Jesus has saved the best – both in quality and quantity – for last.

Jesus loves His neighbors perfectly. There is no joyful laughter at the groom’s embarrassment. There isn’t complaining about how the guests are being mistreated. There isn’t gossip questioning where the money for the wine has gone, or why there seems to be missing wine. There’s no trying to manipulate the crowd. There’s no with-holding the best wine for his own private after-party. Instead, Jesus loves; Jesus gives.

He gives the best. In the text, only the master of ceremonies recognizes the gift, but he misses out on the giver, mistakenly giving credit to the groom. St. John makes sure we know: the giver is Jesus; He saves the best for last.  He saves the best for last: Himself for the sins of the world. While the sign does show Jesus’ glory as the Son of God, it is not yet His hour. His hour is yet to come. There is much foreshadowing here: the water to wine foreshadows when Christ takes the cup with His disciples and says “This is my blood, shed for you.” The sign of water to wine is also reversed at the cross when blood and water are separated and flow from His pierced side. And, to make sure you know that this is all pointing to the cross, at Cana, Jesus hour had not yet come. In the Garden of Gethsemane, with His disciples resting nearby, Jesus prays, “Now the hour has come,” (17:1). The cross is – literally and figuratively – on the horizon. Mary, Jesus’ mother, is present here. The only other time Mary appears in John’s Gospel is when she stands at the foot of the cross when her Son shows His perfect love for a sinful world.

John tells us this is the first of Jesus’ signs – you’ll note, he doesn’t call it a miracle. It’s a sign. That’s John’s way of illustrating Jesus isn’t just a miracle worker; He is God in flesh. He is Messiah. Remember, Jesus means “Savior.” In the book of Exodus, the same word is to describe what Moses does before Pharaoh with God’s authority and power. In Jesus’ ministry, signs show Jesus to be God. In Exodus, it illustrates Moses as God’s spokesperson. Jesus is the very Word of God made flesh. Moses set Israel free from slavery in Egypt. In Christ, God is also setting His people free from the burden of sin, death and the devil. Jesus will save; Jesus will exodus God’s people. In Christ, what began in the Exodus is coming to fruition. God’s people are free. John names seven signs in His Gospel, the 7^th being Lazarus’ resurrection. Seven is a number of completion; eight is a number of a new beginning. There is an eighth sign, but it isn’t named because it’s so obvious: Jesus own resurrection. And, baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection, you are given a new beginning.

They are free to love. So, what does it look like when we practice neighborly love? There are lots of ways. You see a single parent sitting in the pew, wrestling with a squirming child and growing more and more frustrated. Get up; offer to help. After church, offer a word of encouragement instead of criticism. You hear a neighbor has received a difficult medical diagnosis. Pick up a couple of kolaches and cups of coffee; drop by and visit with a word of encouragement, a prayer for hope, and a verse of Scripture that reminds them of Christ’s great love for them. If a co-worker gets the dreaded pink-slip, give them a call that evening and keep checking in on them in the days and weeks ahead. If you see a kid at school who’s being picked on or who sits alone at lunch, text them after school, inviting him or her to sit with you and your friends.

And, when you do that, you are showing the neighborly love of Christ to that person. It's possible that, like the guests in Cana, those people may not recognize the gift of neighborly love is actually Christ's love. But, then again, they might. And, in their prayers that evening, they may thank God for you because He saved the best for last. 

In the name of Jesus.
Amen.

You Are Mine! Isaiah 43:1-10

Too often, the Old Testament is treated like a second-class part of the Bible. It’s generally an after-thought for most Christians, who concentrate on studying the New Testament. And, even there, we mostly concentrate on the four Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. As a result, we have a very narrow view of the Bible. Taken to the extreme, this view can actually be reduced to this level of simplicity: Old Testament is bad news with a God who is always mad; New Testament is good news, revealing God’s love for us in Christ. This view is not only simplistic, it’s wrong. Yes, the New Testament is Good News, and very specifically, it is the Good News – which is what Gospel means, by the way – the Good News of Jesus Christ. But, the Old Testament is also rich in Good News, and it is sometimes even richer and more powerful than what is the four books we call the Gospels.

Take this morning’s Old Testament lesson from Isaiah 43 as our example. Isaiah is prophesying to God’s people, Israel. Some of Isaiah’s preaching is bad news preaching. Like the proverbial hammer between the eyes, Isaiah’s preaching gets right to the core of Israel’s problem: their sins against God, against their fellow Israelites, and even against other nations have caused God’s wrath to burn hot. His punishment was for the people to be hauled off into captivitity, their nation was destroyed, and the beautiful Temple laid to ruins. And it left the people wondering if they had sinned so terribly that they had lost the favor of God. Were they no longer God’s people? Had they finally out-sinned God’s grace? Was God’s judgement not only temporal, but also eternal ruin?

In music, there is an instrument called, very simply, The Triangle. It is a piece of steel, about as thick as a #2 pencil, that is bent into an open triangle – the ends do not quite meet at one corner – and suspended on a piece of string. Another piece of steel is used to strike the triangle. The result is a crystal-clear ring that is both sharp enough to cut through all of the other musical instruments but also beautiful enough that it grabs the attention of everyone in the audience.

“But now.” Those two words of Isaiah must have been like a single, clear ping from a triangle, over and against both Isaiah’s preaching and what they have been seeing with their own eyes. What they had seen, what they had experienced, what they had finally come to understand and repent over about their sins, the “But now,” of Isaiah cuts into all of that.  

But now, says the Lord, He who created you, O Jacob, He who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are Mine. (Is. 43:1)

Listen to the verbs in this compound sentence. [Read it again.] The verbs tell the story. Created, formed: simple, past-tense. Have redeemed, have called: past-tense with a continuing, on-going action. Are: present tense. But now, as Israel stood in a far-off, heathen land, God was still their God and they were still His people. He had created and formed them; He doesn’t break His promises. In fact, His promises are so powerful that when God speaks, even before the action is done, even before the promise is fulfilled, the promise – the Word of God – is already effective and efficacious. But now, with Israel in Babylon, they already are already redeemed. But now, even though they are still in captivity, even though they would have to wait seven hundred more years before Jesus’ Nativity and crucifixion, because God had promised it, they are already bought with the payment price of His blood. But now, even though they are in exile, in a heathen land, they have been called God’s people and remain God’s people.

When God gives His promise, it is never just a past-tense moment. God’s promises, given in the past, are always past, present, and future tense -- active and powerful.

And, because this is true, the promises of God, given to His people of old, still hold true for His people of every age – including today. So His promises, given to Ancient Israel some 2700 years ago, still ring true for you. But now, says the Lord, He who created you, O Zion, He who formed you, O Zion: Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine.” The difference is that Israel was waiting for their redeemer. In the fulness of time, the Redeemer did come. The One, whose birth we only recently celebrated; the One, to whom the Magi brought gifts; the One, who stood in the Jordan to be baptized by John; this One is Israel’s Redeemer. This One, Jesus, is the world’s Redeemer. This One, is your redeemer.

Today, we remember Jesus’ baptism. It’s a remarkable event for several reasons. First, Baptism is for the forgiveness of sins. Second, it delivers from death and the devil. Third, Baptism is both now and for eternity. If these are true, then why is Jesus baptized?  Jesus, the sinless Son of God, had no need to be baptized for forgiveness. Jesus, who is God in flesh, is already even God over Satan. Third, Jesus already is eternal.  So, why does Jesus need to be baptized? Matthew gives the reason: to fulfill all righteousness. Luther describes Jesus baptism as a great exchange: in baptism, His holiness is washed into the water and onto us; in baptism, all of the sins of the world are flooded onto Him. In Baptism, God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us. To pay the debt of the world’s sin, Jesus would face both satan and death.

The redemption price for the sins of the world was terrible. A moment ago, I said that the promises of God, once spoken, always remain effective. There was only one moment in time where this was not true: in Jesus crucifixion.  It was as if Isaiah’s promise was completely reversed for Jesus. It was as if God were saying, “Be terrified, for I cannot redeem you. I have damned you by name. You are no longer mine.” There, at the cross, Jesus was cast into exile, abandoned by His Father. There, alone, surrounded by sinners, Jesus died the sinner’s death.

And you, dear saints of Zion, you have been baptized into that death. Christ’s perfect payment price, His life and His death, are yours. In Holy Baptism, Christ delivers His perfect death to you. It’s a trade – remember? Your sins become His sins; your deserved death becomes His. But He doesn’t stop there. Remember? He traded His life for your death; He traded His holiness for your sins. His holiness and His life are given to you. His perfect resurrection is your resurrection. Had He only died, that would have been enough, but Jesus never does just enough. He does perfectly. His resurrection on Easter is also delivered to you in your Baptism. His death, for you; His life, to you. His holiness, upon you.

Remember, I said the verbs have a past-tense with a future, on-going action? This is called, in English grammar, a perfect verb. That is what Baptism is. It is a past-tense event. You can look back and be reminded of the day you were brought to the font. It was a moment in time. But that moment in time has a continued, on-going action. Forgiveness is never just a past-tense event --- I was forgiven on February 1, 1974, but now…well, now what? Baptism is past and on-going event. Baptize is, quite literally, a perfect verb. In baptism, God sees you as perfect. So, instead of saying, “I was baptized,” let’s say, “I have been baptized.” It’s a constant, ongoing event. The forgiveness delivered to you at the font on that day and time continues to deliver the goods to you each and every day. Every day, you are a Baptized child of God, living In His grace and in His goodness and holiness. In Baptism, every day, you die to sin and are raised to newness of life. Yes, in Christ, you are already resurrected.

Yes, that Old Adam is a good swimmer. He keeps bobbing his head to the surface; she keeps on treading water. Drown it again. That’s what repentance is. It’s confessing that that Old Adam and Old Eve deserves hell. Being scared to die without Jesus, that’s the sorrow for what that Old Adam and Old Eve does. And faith stands against these things, knowing that the Baptismal promise of God, delivered at the cross, given once in water and word, remains powerful and effective even after you die and you are a forgiven child of God.

And, that Baptismal promise holds you close to God even when you go through the dark, difficult days of this life – that’s the imagery of passing through the rivers and the waters, through fire and flame. Even in the midst of what seems to be overwhelming darkness, God promises His presence with you. He abandoned His Son at the cross, so that He cannot abandon you.

I think that memorizing Bible verses is an important practice. Isaiah 43:1 and 2 are two of my favorites. Perhaps I am biased – let me tell you why. Isaiah 43:1 was my Dad’s confirmation verse back in 1957. Someone made my Dad a small banner with the words of the verse on it. But, they included Dad’s name in the verse, so it took the powerful truth of the verse and made it even more personal. It read this way: “Feat not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name, Walter, and you are mine.”

Do this: I’m going to read the first three verses again, and I’m going to pause as I read. When I pause, I want you to say your name and tap your chest. If you’re a typical Lutheran, this is embarrassing. Don’t be embarrassed – we’re all doing it together. If you simply can’t say it out loud, then mumble it or at least say it in your head or squeeze your hands. I’m doing this so you hear these perfect promises of God, perfectly delivered for you.

Fear not, _______, for I have redeemed you, _______; I have called you by name, _______; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you_______; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you, _______; when you walk through fire, you shall not be burned _______ and the flames shall not consume you, _______.  For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.

In the name of Jesus.
Amen.

The Gifts Jesus Wants - Matthew 2:1-12

Epiphany is the day the Christian church celebrates the arrival of the wise men to the child, Jesus, and give homage to the newborn King. I say “wise men” – depending on the translation or the song, you might know them as wise men, Magi, sages or even kings. Usually they are described as astrologers but the term used in the Greek New Testament implies an interest in dreams, stars, and perhaps even magic. They were from the East, presumably the area of Babylon, the region where the Israelites had been taken into captivity 700 years earlier. How many wise men were there? We don’t know. Traditionally, the story says there were three men – it’s even on your bulletin cover - and this is taken from the three gifts they proffered: gold, frankincense and myrrh.

I remember, when I was a boy, listening to Mom’s record of A Little Drummer Boy. Biblically, there was no drummer boy – just so you know – but it’s a sentimental, romantic favorite whether sung by David Bowie and Bing Crosby, Johnny Cash, or Pentatonix. The song is simple: the wise men, on the way to see Jesus, conscript the Drummer Boy to come along. While the wise men offer their expensive gifts to the Child, this humble and poor boy has nothing to offer except his music.

“Shall I play for him? I’ll play my best for him, pa rum pa rum pum…”

His gift, given in poverty, stands in rather stark contrast to what the wise men actually brought Jesus. Gold, you know: a very expensive, precious metal, useful for the buying and selling of goods. You’re probably less familiar with the other two gifts. Frankincense is a tree resin that can be either dried into granules for burning or infused into an oil. Myrrh is a spice, either dry or added to oils to be used for both perfume and for anointing. Gifts from kings; gifts fit for a king.

What gifts are you giving to Jesus this year? What kind of gifts have you brought that are worthy for the Newborn King? Be careful how you answer…it’s probably not what you think.

It’s tempting to tap our wallets and checkbooks, thinking we bring Jesus our gifts of finances. No, those aren’t gifts – at least, not on the strict sense of the word. We are simply stewards, caretakers, of the financial gifts He gives to us. Our offerings are returning to the Lord a portion of what He has first given to us. That’s different than a gift.

How about our prayers and our praises? That’s a good, sanctified answer. While that is important, again, that’s not a gift. These are what owed to God in response to His gifts to us. Luther even includes at the tail end of the First Article of the Apostle’s Creed explanation, “All this he does out of Fatherly goodness and mercy…for all which it is my duty to thank, praise, serve and obey Him.” That’s not a gift.

So, perhaps we owe him good, Christian living. It’s the New Year, so we make our resolutions to do better. We’ll get up earlier to go work out; we buy the gym membership and the elliptical, we pick up the Keto cookbook and put down the Blue Bell. We take the Bible off the bookshelf and set it on the side table with the intention to read it daily. We promise to play ball with our kids or to call our parents. After all, we don’t want Jesus to see what we’re like on Tuesday morning at the weekly staff meeting, Thursday evening while doing homework, or Saturday night with our friends. Perhaps this idea of a gift we give Jesus is the most dangerous of all, because there’s an implication that one can save him or herself if the cleansing is thorough enough.

No. Jesus doesn’t you to bring to His crib your gold-plated, incense-infused, myrrh-scented self-righteous life. He doesn’t want your money. He doesn’t want your goodness. All Jesus wants from you is your sins, your guilt, and your shame.

That sounds backwards, doesn’t it? Why, the Wise Men brought gifts fit for a King – gold, frankincense and myrrh – shouldn’t we at least try to do the same, give Him our best?

If Jesus were an earthly King, an earthly ruler, then yes, this might be true. But Jesus is a different kind of King. The perfect, holy, sinless Son of God, born of the Virgin Mary, announced by angels, witnessed by shepherds, whose name is Jesus, is a King who will save His people from their sins.

This is the only gift Jesus wants from you this Epiphany day: your sins, because that’s the entire reason He came – to save you from those damned – I use that word deliberately – and damning sins.

On this first Sunday of 2019, take all of the sins of 2018 and leave them here. Don’t carry them any further than the altar today. Your sins of cursing and swearing, dishonoring your parents, speaking ill of our elected officials, hating the ex, yelling at the kids, gossiping, lying, stealing time from our employers, holding grudges; of having emotional affairs, alcohol and drug abuse, failing to love, honor and cherish your spouse; failing to fear, love and trust in God more than all other things; thinking that you can make yourself better all by yourself… There are many more…those sins you try to bury deep within, but the guilt keeps dragging them to the surface; those things you try to shove into the dark corner of your memory, but the shame – the devil’s favorite lie that you should know better because you are a Christian! – keeps shining a light into those corners and illuminates them for you to remember. Of these, of all of these, give them to Jesus. Bring them to the Infant King in repentance, confess them, and believe that Jesus came to take them from you.

Those are the gifts that Jesus wants. You don’t have to wrap them up pretty; they don’t need bows and ribbons; they don’t deserve pretty wrappings. Give them to Jesus with all their ugliness and nastiness. He takes them from you and carries each and every one to the cross.

The cross… It’s always there, isn’t it? Even the wise men’s gifts foreshadowed it: Mary Magdeline anointed Jesus’ feet with perfume on the way to the cross. Jesus redeems us, not with gold brought by the wise men or silver used to purchase His own life, but with His blood; when the women go to the tomb early on Easter morning, they were carrying oils and spices for a proper burial, used to disguise and cover up the smell of death. Joy of joys – when they arrived, the spices weren’t needed to cover up death’s stink because Jesus was alive, the living and resurrected One.

Pilate had identified Jesus as King of the Jews. Epiphany means “revealing” and Jesus is revealed as King for Gentiles, too. Remember: the wise men were gentiles. The word Gentile in Greek means “of the nations” – and Israelites used it in a derogatory way as a term of exclusion. Gentiles were outsiders; they were not God’s people. If you were Gentile, you weren’t of the people of Israel, you were of the heathen nations. In the Epiphany of Jesus, it is revealed that His kingdom surpasses earthly boundaries; His reign is over all; His rule includes not only the Israelites but the Gentiles, too. That includes you and me.

Epiphany also reveals Jesus as the gift giver. He takes all of those rotten, nasty, ugly, sin-stained gifts that we drop at the foot of the cross, and in the empty grave, He delivers good, holy, and righteous gifts. He gives you the gift of forgiveness, destroying sin’s damning power. He gives you the gift of joy, that you are no longer burdened by the weight of your griefs and shame. He gives you the gift of peace, that the relationship with God is restored and whole. He gives you the gift of salvation, that eternity with God is yours. He gives the gift of love, that you are able to share with those around you. He gives the gift of faith that enables you to say, “This is most certainly true.”

If the Little Drummer Boy were here, this is what he would sing:

Come, they told me pa rum pa pum pum;
A newborn King to see, pa rum pa pum pum
My ugliest sins I bring, pa rum pa pum pum;
To lay at Jesus’ feet, pa rum pa pum pum,
rum pa pa pum, rum pa pum pum.

To you my sins I fling, pa rum pa pum pum;
To Christ I cling.

Baby Jesus, pa rum pa pum pum;
I stand forgiven, here pa rum pa pum pum
Before my Savior King, pa rum pa pum pum;
Your throne, a cross, for me, pa rum pa pum pum;
rum pa pa pum, rum pa pump um.

Christ has rescued me, pa rum pa pum pum; Eternally.

Amen.