Standing with the Armor of God - Ephesians 6: 10-20

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Epistle lesson, Ephesians 6.

I remember many years ago, being at a mission festival where the church had asked a military chaplain to preach the morning sermon. I was excited. It was around the time of the first Gulf War and the American military was again being lauded and praised for their service. At the time, I wanted to be a Marine or an Army soldier, so getting to see a real, live military chaplain was akin to meeting Nolan Ryan, Rodney Crowell, and the General Lee (the car, not the soldier) all at the same time. This chaplain used this morning’s reading about the armor of God. I remember sitting and being enthralled as he told stories about serving “over there.” Then he used those images, so well explained that we could see them in our mind, and connected them to the Christian’s armor, and, just as his division had taken the fight to the enemy, our Christian duty to go on the offense against our Enemy – capitol E – the devil and take no prisoners.

It was a powerful sermon. It was a motivating sermon. If he were part of the church’s recruitment office, he had the congregation worked up in a frenzy. He was enlisting prayer warriors, and Bible infantry, and Confirmation artillery and altar guild snipers and trustee engineers. No drill instructor could have called a cadence as boldly as we sang the hymn “Onward Christian Soldiers.” As the bell rang (we rang the bell at the end of the service), we heard it as a call to battle and were ready to charge hell with a bucket of baptismal water.

And the preacher, the chaplain, was totally backwards. Oh, he had us motivated alright, and he filled us to the brim with a go get ‘em attitude. But that was exactly the issue. He had turned us in on ourselves, finding our strength from within. It was a law-based message, as if he were the infamous Uncle Sam poster, finger pointing right at each one of us, and demanding, “I want you to strap up and go.”

Read through Ephesians. Paul makes it clear, it is the devil who is attacking Christians. And, it is Christ, then, who counter attacks the devil, taking the offensive against satan himself. The church is never left alone to fight the battle herself, standing alone against the devil’s tirades. We aren’t waiting for Christ to win a future battle – the battle was won at the cross. We aren’t cowering, waiting for Christ to step into the frey – He defeated the enemy time and time again. We are not waiting to see how things turn out. Christ has died and He has been raised; He blew open the very gates of hell himself and stood in the devil’s own hellish home to declare victory. It is Christ who is the warrior, winning the battle. God has raised Him to an eternal, heavenly throne putting all enemies under His feet. And we, having been baptized into Christ’s death and Christ’s resurrection have already been elevated to the eternity of heaven with Him.

Christ’s victory wasn’t partial, as if He now needs the church to go out and either gain more ground for Him or hold onto what He has won at great price. Remember, you have been saved by grace through faith, not of yourselves, it is a gift of God.

So, when St. Paul speaks of the armor of God, He is not recruiting the First Cross Division, or the Third Baptismal Battalion. He is calling us to life under the cross of Jesus, leaning on nothing but Christ and His might, while we await our Lord’s return to claim all that which is His. Paul’s encouragement is passive: to be strengthened in the Lord in His mighty strength. It’s not our strength that counts. It is His.

Paul speaks of the armor of God. Just that name should give you a clue: the armor of God. It’s His armor. He is the one who wears it into battle. He is the great warrior who does battle on our behalf. It is His personal armor.  He is the one who supplies it. Our translation says, “Put on the armor of God.” It gives us the idea like we go to the closet, select the clothes we want, and get dressed. It’s a poor understanding of the verb. It’s better understood with a passive, permissive kind of verb, “Let yourself be clothed in the armor of God.” Christ gives us His armor “so that we may be able to stand.

Stand. Not attack. Stand firm. The church is not being called to storm the devil’s castle. Paul is picturing the devil’s final attacks against the church. Satan knows he has been defeated, but he is making a last-ditch effort to take as many people of God as possible with him. Paul calls us to stand in the Lord’s territory, in the Church. We need not attack. Christ has won the battle. We simply stand firm in His strength, in His promises, in His mercy, in His love, in His forgiveness while Christ protects and defends His people against the mortally wounded enemy and his feeble attempts. Stand. It’s not our battle. Stand. There are no great military tactics that we need, no twelve point plans. Simply, stand and watch Christ win the victory again and again for us. Stand firm!

And, Jesus does not leave us empty handed. He gives us His armor, remember. Paul explains each piece:  the belt of truth, that is Christ Himself, who is the way, the truth and the life; the breastplate of righteousness, a gift given by God Himself through Christ Jesus to protect against all enemies; feet shod with the Gospel of peace that has been given through Christ’s messengers who, themselves, have beautiful feet because of the Good News they carry of victory already won; a shield of faith, both what is believed in the Word of God, and the Spirit-given ability to believe the Word of God; a helmet of salvation that has been already won and delivered to us in our baptisms; and, finally, the sword of the spirit, the very Word of God, which we use in close combat when satan tempts us individually and personally, so we can read the promises of God in Christ that we are forgiven. There are no offensive weapons, not even the sword. These are all defensive to use while standing firm in Christ. Know why none are offensive? So that the old adam can’t turn and use them against a brother or sister in Christ.

Make no mistake: the enemy is the devil who surrounds himself with his minions.  It is this simple: satan seeks to destroy the Church, a Christian congregation, and even those within. He knows he is defeated, but he continues to throw himself against Jesus for one reason: he wants to distract the church by scheming against the truth of Jesus. He attacks the church from outside with false accusations that Jesus is just one path to heaven, or if God loves everyone, why is there hatred, or if God is so strong, why can’t he stop this hurricane, or the wildfires, or the drought, or even this virus. Must not be much of a God you Christians worship. He sneaks into the church. He fills the church with false teachings so that the Word of God gets nuanced and spun to fit itching ears, the sacraments become mere reminders of past events, and the ego gets built up so we think it’s all about us.

He tempts the old adam to make Christians think the enemy is someone with whom we disagree. He fuels frustration and hurt into sinful, self-righteous anger, stripping compassion and mercy from our hearts so that we see things as “us” and “them.” He makes us see forgiveness as something we get to merit and measure out to those whom we feel are worthy. This is most dangerous, because he wants us to make ourselves to be like God, that we get to determine good and evil. ,

 or he fills the Christian’s ears with lies about the truth of God’s Word, His grace, His victory over satan. The devil makes a personal attack against us, elevating our shame, our guilt, so that all we can see is our failings to stand in Christ, to stand for one another in Christ.  Are you sure Jesus forgives you after what you did? 

In the military, bad things happen to personnel who fail to do their duty, regardless how sorry they may be. In some instances, the penalty is death. When we realize that the old adam has failed to stand and has, instead, surrendered to the devil’s temptations, it is a humbling thing and a frightening thing. After all, God demands death as well for those who fail His commands and we realize we have fallen fall short of standing perfectly faithful. There is only one option: to throw ourselves, in repentance, at the mercy of God, confessing how we have failed to stand firm, to stand faithful, to stand together. We confess that we have listened to the siren song of the enemy and we have accused others of being the enemy instead; with remorse, admit that we have made ourselves out to be our own commander and did what we wanted to do to fit our own desires and thoughts. Filled with repentance, confessing our sins, and sorrow for what we have done, we still turn to Jesus.

Remember: the battle is the Lord’s. He fought the fight against the devil not for perfect four-star soldiers but for ragtag misfits. The cross, the grave, the open tomb – it’s all for sinners like you and me who believe that Christ conquered satan, the world, and even our own sinful flesh. He won the victory for the dirty dozens of us who sin greatly but believe Christ forgives even more greatly. The battle has been won, delivered to us now and into eternity.

Live as one whose battles have been fought for you, not by you. If you have sinned against your brother or sister in Christ, go to them today and confess your sin. Today, not tomorrow. You may not have tomorrow. You have today. It is one of the hardest things you will do. It is humbling, to admit that we wronged someone else. Confess, without excuse, without exception, without condition, what you have done. The response is, “I forgive you,” without excuse, without exception, without condition. I’ll tell you, forgiveness may need to be repeated often, in your own mind, as hurt feelings rise up again and satan tries to battle that gift of forgiveness from you. Ask God’s strength against such temptation, and forgive in the name of Christ again.

Do you know where the handshake comes from? In the ancient world, the sword was worn on the left side and drawn with the right hand. When the battle was over, when the fighting was done, warriors would greet each other by putting the sword away and extending the empty, right hand. It was a symbol of peace. In the church, we practice this with a handshake as we share the peace of Christ. When you greet one another and say, “Peace with you,” you are saying the enmity between us is put away. There is restoration in Christ and through Christ. It’s not a holy howdy; it’s a declaration of oneness through the death and resurrection of Jesus. It’s setting aside one’s own thoughts and ideals for the wellbeing of the other; it’s saying I’m the lesser, you’re the greater; it’s saying the peace of Christ, given to me, is also for you.

And, then stand. But, you never stand alone. Paul encourages us to keep alert with all perseverance and make supplication for all the saints. Here’s the neat thing about all of those pieces of the armor of God. They are meant to be used not individually but collectively, by the church. Together, not as individuals, the church is able to support each other against the devil’s attacks; together, the church encourages one another; together, the church supports each other; together, the church embodies Christ towards one another; together, the church reminds each other of our baptismal identity; together, the church withstands in the evil day, knowing that the enemy has been defeated and Christ already is ruling in triumph. 

Marriage is About Jesus - Ephesians 5:22-33

Every now and then, someone will call and ask if I do weddings. That’s actually an interesting question. A wedding is an event. It can be big or small. It’s usually a special celebration with family and friends, food and beverage, music, laughter and dancing. There are “I do’s” and kisses, enough pictures to make Hollywood jealous, a tossed bouquet, cake that may or may not be smeared across faces, bird seed, and a car decorated in poor taste. Given today’s social and political climate, weddings can be a mixed lot – do not assume it will be one man and one woman, it could be two men, two women, or any combination thereof. Weddings are all about the people.

So, when I am asked, my answer is simple: I don’t do weddings.  I do, however, sanctify the marriage of one man and one woman with the word of God and prayer. 

Marriage.  Marriage is about God and His gifts to a man and a woman. Marriage is an honorable estate of which the Scriptures speak highly, instituted and blessed by God in Paradise before humanity’s fall into sin.  Not simply a man in lonely isolation, but male and female, the Lord God made them in His Image; the woman was taken from the man, then brought to the man and given to him by God, that the two should be united as one flesh.

Marriage is about Jesus. In marriage, we see a picture of the unity, the communion between Christ and His bride, the Church. A profound mystery revealed in Jesus and in His Word, and which St. Paul discloses the mystery to the baptized, so the enlightened can see something in marriage that is deeper than what the unbeliever experiences: the proclamation of the Gospel of Christ.  Therefore, we speak of “Holy Matrimony” and view it as a sign of the Gospel to be received by faith. Anyone can have a wedding. Only Jesus makes a marriage. 

And so we receive the Lord’s Word on marriage in faith, “Wives, submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord.” 

I submit this is one of the most hated verses in the Bible today. We get hung up on the word submit. It sounds so oppressive, so ancient, so unlike our modern sophistication. Conventional wisdom says that these words degrade, put down, and create division. And to an extent it does when working with the world’s definition. 

So in order for us to understand what is being said here–and for us to accept it, gladly and willingly–it’s important to come to the Scripture with the proper attitude. We need to hear it as God’s word, receiving it humbly. And we need to hear these words carefully–not pulling out isolated phrases here and there, out of context. Rather, we need to understand these words according to the sense in which they were written, getting a full and balanced picture of what Paul is saying.

Still, this leaves many uncomfortable.  It is a hard thing to be humble oneself and the world thinks of this as weakness. In our modern culture, submission is viewed not as humble but humiliating, not as honorable but demeaning.  Yet Paul does not suggest or even hint that wives are less valuable or inferior by nature. Paul doesn’t mention judgments about the fitness of a woman or a man. He offers no commentary on the strength or weakness of either sex. Here, Paul does not so much as command the wife to submit as simply describe the way things are for those filled with the Spirit of God.  A wife willingly submits herself to her husband. This isn’t dismissed as “that’s the way it was back then.” This is  patterned on the submission of the Church to Christ: the church received Him as her head (1:21-23), the cornerstone of her foundation (2:20-21); the church receives His gifts (3:17-19) and grows up toward Him as He builds His body (4:15-16). The church lives in His love and forgiveness (4:32-5:2), and sings His praise (5:18-20). Paul’s point of comparison shows the wife’s submission is like this, like the church in relation to Christ – the valuable one for whom the husband gives up everything for her sake.

And just as there is a word to the wives, so there is a word to the husbands. And these two follow one upon the other. So often we focus only on wives submitting, and the discussion stops there. We forget to move on to the balancing word addressed to husbands. In fact, Paul has as much to say or more so about what the husbands are to do as he has about the wives.

“Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.” Here’s where the weight on the shoulders of the husband grows heavier all the way to the point of it being impossible to carry. In verse 28, the obligation is for the husband to love his wife not only for a moment but as a binding and lasting obligation. This means that it is unacceptable for a husband to love to the best of his ability and call it good. Rather, he is to love as Christ loves the church (v. 29). This love Christ has for the church is both a profound mystery and an impossible standard for any husband to meet.

Even the most wonderful husband is an imitator, not Christ himself. As an imitator, the husband is going to fall far short of the standard set by Christ. All husbands will not only fall short here but in every aspect of their lives and must receive forgiveness and be fortified by the means of grace.

Now I ask you, which is harder: the wife submitting to her husband or the husband loving his wife, “as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her”? Which is harder? Answer: Both are equally hard. Both callings are deadly to the flesh. Both go against our sinful human nature, our old Adam and our old Eve. These words to wives and husbands put to death our pride and our selfishness. Both callings–the wife voluntary submitting to her husband and the husband giving himself up in love for his wife–both are equally hard. But both are equally possible through the mercy and love of God in Christ Jesus.

So husbands, love your wives as Christ has loved the Church. Wives, respect your husband as the Church does to Christ.  A husband is called to be Christ like and a women churchlike, with the marriage being a public testimony of the Gospel – Jesus’ death and resurrection and the wedding of Himself to His people through Word and Sacrament.  People of God, you are the bride of Christ, His holy Church, called to be holy, forgiven, chaste, pure, faithful bride to the living Savior, Jesus.

This is the profound mystery of which St. Paul speaks. In this union of husband and wife the love of God is revealed in the Word. The very Word of God has Himself become flesh in order to become one flesh with us His Holy Bride, the Church. This is the purpose for which God created anything at all and everything that is. This is THE marriage that every other marriage signifies, and which every other marriage is called to celebrate and participate in.  This is why marriage is so important: it’s all about Jesus!

It is about what Jesus does to a man and a woman, joining them together into a one flesh union. It is about Jesus who submits to the Father’s will, going to the cross to die.  It is about Jesus, the head of the church, and the submission the Church gives to her Lord.  It is about Jesus, who loves the Church, who gave His life for her, presenting her to Himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. It is and always has been about Jesus leaving the Father and holding fast to His bride, the Church, uniting His people to Himself.  Paul does not say that the relationship of Christ to the church is like marriage, rather God had Christ first in mind and then instituted marriage to reflect what He would ultimately do.  In other words, earthly marriage reflects Christ and the church, not the other way around.  In the one flesh union, God unites a husband and wife.  God’s definition of marriage is one man, one women, as a reflection of the One Groom, Christ, and the one bride, the Church.

Any other definition, or a definition divorced from Jesus, is apart from God’s will and created intention. That means that homosexuality is a sin. We know that – it’s part of the reason Zion left the ELCA eleven years ago. But, we have bought into conventional wisdom and forget that sex outside of marriage is also a sin.  Pornography is sin.  Living together outside of marriage is a sin.  That lust for another whom God has not joined together in the one flesh union of Holy Matrimony is sin. Condoning the sinful actions of others is sin.

These are sinful not just because they go against God’s plan for His creation, but because of what they say about Jesus and His marriage to the Church.  This is the key.  This is why the sinful world doesn’t get what the fuss is all about-it doesn’t know Jesus.  Marriage is a mystery revealed only in Jesus.  In the attempt by our world to redefine and reject Biblical marriage, the issue then is really a rejection of Christ.  To try to redefine marriage or simply put it aside as inconvenient or unwanted is put oneself in the place of Christ, to upset not just the order of creation but also the order of salvation.  Because marriage is all about Jesus!

There is no more mystery here for you, the baptized.  Our relationships reflect God’s relationship to us.  God’s Church is the bride of Christ. Marriage may be all messed up in our society, but it need not be so among us. For we know the love of Christ, our Savior: His forgiveness that cleanses us from our sins, and His baptismal grace which sustains us through this life, and His wedded love as our Groom. Amen.

Body & Blood; Bread & Wine: A Scandal of Biblical Portions - John 6:51-69

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

When many of the disciples heard [the teaching of Jesus], they said, “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?”

They just couldn’t take it anymore. His teaching about His flesh being true food and His blood true drink was just too much. No self-respecting, Torah-living, Scripture-believing Jew would dare talk that way, let alone do such a thing. Eat human flesh? Never! Drink blood? Not only was blood unclean, but the drinking of blood was forbidden. Eating and drinking such a meal would surely put you outside the community, strip you of temple worship, and leave you as unclean as lepers, pig farmers, or even [shudder the thought] Gentiles. For Jesus to speak of Himself this way, for Him to invite – nay, encourage! – His listeners to participate in such a thing as cannibalism, it was just too much to hear, to believe, to follow anymore. And, what kind of foolishness was this disrespectful talk about the manna that the Israelites ate in the desert? Forty years of God-given bread is part of the history of Israel. But the final straw was His referring to Himself with Godly language like Son of Man and being coequal to the Father.  

It was too much; they couldn’t take it anymore. St. John says that “many of His disciples turned back and no longer walked with Him.”

What happened? We’ve been following the story for the last month. After He fed the 5000 with five loaves and two fish, the people wanted to make Jesus their king. Who wouldn’t? Could you imagine: an unlimited supply of food without having to either work for it or pay for it? Oh, wait…the Israelites had that in the wilderness for 40 years, didn’t they, and they grumbled constantly about having the same thing day in and day out. Yeah; that didn’t work out so well. And when Jesus brings this up to the people who have gathered around – both Jewish leaders and his disciples (the larger grouping of people who followed him, not just The Twelve), and then teaches that He is the Bread of Life and those who eat – that is, believe – will live forever, unlike their fathers in the desert, they were taken aback. “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” they asked.

Jesus, in turn, asks them, “Do you take offense at this?” In fact, the Greek word used for our English word, “offended,” is “skandalon” – you can hear our word “scandal,” right? They weren’t just offended…they were scandalized by what Jesus had to say. 

Scandal helps us understand how severe this was. We use the word “offended” all the time, describing everything from politics to haircuts, but generally we get over that mess. But a scandal is something that is literally a stumbling block – a scandal causes me to lose faith in someone. It makes me rethink my whole idea about something. It might change my opinion, force me to rethink my ideology, even doubt what I have believed in the past. We move past an offense; but a scandal is a major hurdle to overcome. 

Jesus asked them, “Do you take offense?” Literally, the question is rhetorical – “You are scandalized, aren’t you?” He knew they were murmuring and grumbling the same way their forefathers had in the wilderness against Moses. They are being scandalized by who Jesus is. He’s not just a bread maker; He is the very Bread of Life itself. He’s not just the son of Mary; He is Bread which has come down from Heaven, meaning, from the very hand of God Himself. They are being scandalized that Jesus instructs them to believe in Him as God in flesh, and that by eating His flesh and drinking His blood – and here, he means in a spiritual sense, not a sacramental sense – one will live forever. A Jew would never dare succumb to cannibalism or touching blood. Such things made one unclean, and that Jesus seemed to be expecting this was simply too much. But the icing on the cake, the idea that made the tabloids of Jerusalem, was the idea that this Messiah would have to die to attain His throne. Body and blood talk is death talk, and – to paraphrase General George Patton – every Israelite knew that no Messiah becomes a Messiah by dying at the hands of the enemy. A crucified Messiah was no Messiah at all because everyone knew that someone who died at the hands of the Romans was not only a criminal but a man cursed by God. 

The scandal was just too much for many of those who had been following Jesus. They had their bellies filled on the hillside, they chased Jesus around the shoreline, they listened to what He said, but all of this bread, body and blood talk…it was too much. It gave them spiritual indigestion. The cross was the final stumbling stone and it put people at a cross-roads: follow, or not follow. When something bothers the tummy, you don’t eat it. This bread, body, eating and drinking talk bothered them so much, it was such a great stumbling stone to their faith, it was such a scandal that they simply could not tolerate it any further. They changed their opinions of Jesus; they turned and walked away.

The Gospel of Jesus still causes offense today. People outside the Church – Capitol C, the Christian church - still walk away from Jesus and His gifts. To those who seek offense, Jesus’ teaching has plenty to be offended by. They are scandalized by His teaching that He is the only way that leads to eternal life. They are shocked that He tells us to receive His body and drink His blood, not only spiritually, but also sacramentally in bread and wine for the forgiveness of sins, and that He is truly present in this meal. They are outraged that there is salvation in no other name under heaven given among men by which we may be saved. They refuse to believe Jesus forgives sinners – you know, like those people. And, sadly, there are some who refuse to believe Jesus’ death is truly all-sufficient, and that by faith in Him one may have eternal life in His name. 

What’s worse, though, is when the church causes people to be scandalized. Now, here, by church I am talking church with a lower-case c – the local church, the congregation. Every congregation has the same struggle: they are filled with sinners, and they are served by a sinner. Put sinful people together in one group and, sooner or later, something sinful will happen. There’s gossip and rumor, suggestion and inuendo, selfishness and arrogance. What does that do to the body of Christ when brothers and sisters in Christ speak of each other in the worst of names. What does that say when little Christs take their baptismal blessings and behave as if forgiveness, compassion, giving the benefit of the doubt, mercy and grace are all dumped in the ditch, and memories of sins past are dredged to the surface, “rights” are espoused, vile and vitriol and sharpened like swords, and hearts grow hard.

People stumble in faith and, sadly, some not only stumble but fall – fall away from the congregation: “I don’t want to be part of a church like that.” Worse, some even fall away from faith in Jesus. “If that’s what the body of Jesus is like, He isn’t much of a head.” 

Our Lord calls us to repentance so that our behaviors do not scandalize His name, or scandalize others in their faith. He leads us to turn away from ourselves and turn toward our brothers and sisters in Christ with His compassion.  He opens our eyes to see our own sins before we consider those of others. He gives the strength to let gossip die in your ears and seal your lips so that inuendo never passes your mouth. He fills you with His spirit so you speak tenderly, gently, and with understanding. And He leads us to surrender ourselves for the body of Christ.

The irony is there is nothing to be scandalized by. He came to seek and to save the lost; he came to rescue and redeem sinners; He came to give himself for those who had nothing left to give; He came to feed with food that has no expiration date and never spoils or fades. He is the great physician of body and soul Who comes to heal those who could not heal themselves from eternal damnation. He didn't come to establish an earthly Kingdom. His Kingdom, on earth and in heaven, endures into eternity without beginning or end. He doesn't demand foolish allegiance but he does call us to faith in him, trusting that His life , death, and resurrection are the all sufficient payment for all of your sins and mine. He doesn’t come to be served, but to serve and to give His life for many. Simply, this is why Jesus came:  “that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life and I will raise Him up on the last day” (v. 40).

The cross knows no limits. There are no oversized loads at the cross. Jesus doesn’t weigh or measure sins and determine that the cross can’t stand the weight and has to be left on the sinner’s back. Jesus takes them all. He even takes yours. Remember: all sins deserve condemnation. Jesus died for them all. He died for you. In faith, repentance dumps your sin, my sin, their sins at the foot of the cross and says, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You died for this damnable burden, so I am leaving it where You paid it’s price. Strengthen me, so I don’t do it again. Preserve me against temptation. Because You rose, I know that my sins will no longer be held against me into eternity. These are the words of eternal life. I know them, believe them, trust them and rely on these promises and on these promises alone.” 

These are the words you have heard today. Blessed are you. The Father has drawn you, the Spirit has birthed you, the Son has redeemed you. Blessed are you. “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he will also live because of me. So, to you, Jesus says, “Come. Eat and drink. My body and blood is here, for you.” He fed Israel with manna from heaven for forty years. He feeds you, today, with food that lasts into eternity, with drink that quenches the insatiable thirst for mercy. In the eating and drinking, He comes to you, strengthens you, forgives you.  You take His body and blood with you wherever you go. To your work, to your home, to your grave. And He will raise you up on the last day.
 
 
 

Glen Campbell, Lost Memories, and God's Promises

There is a song, a Glen Campbell song, that haunts those who stop and really listen to what the old Rhinestone Cowboy laments as he sings, “I’m not gonna miss you.”  Thanks, Glen, for the downloaded warning that all I am to you is $2.99 and nothing more.

Of course, he’s not really singing to me. He’s singing a poem to his family and loved ones, a rhythmic, sad melody of anti-hubris. It is not filled with the arrogance of a fading super-star, the pride of one of the greatest guitar players of any genre or any time, or the musician who taught us the geographical location of places like Galveston, Wichita, and Arkansas.

It’s the song of a man who has fought Alzheimers, trying to slow its indeterminate, yet indefatigable, destruction of memories, of stories, of people, of lyrics both recorded and imagined but never written, of hugs shared, and of – well, of everything. He fought, but Alzheimers won, in the end. It always wins. The refrain, simple, haunts the listener: these memories, these people, these faces, these crowds, these recording booths - I’m not gonna miss you.

I think of this song as I visit my shut-ins, children of God, mostly not-gifted with a poet’s talent for a turned phrase, or the quick-fingered picker’s ability to rip “The William Tell Overture” (the Lone Ranger theme music) on a 12-string, or being known by four decades of the “who’s who” of the Grand Ol’ Opry. I think about the song when the lost, wondering and wandering Christian can’t gather a thought that blows gentle on the mind. I think about it when they don’t recognize me, or my voice, or the words I speak, or the Word who first spoke them. Do they know to miss me, or their parents, or their kids, or their nephews and nieces? What about Jesus?

I feel that there’s a certain bliss in the song, his admitting freely in selfish abandon that he’ll never know his family’s pain. Hooray for him. But, I’m left wondering, was there a time in his last years, his last months, when clarity broke through, when the pain was his, when the sadness cut to the heart, when his own empathy overwhelmed the damned brain-eating disease and his eyes saw and his thoughts recognized and he cognizantly knew, somehow, the loss and pain they suffered, that showed through the heartache expressed in their face?  But, as the illness ruind the memory like the Romans salting their path across the Middle East or Sherman burning his way across Georgia, all memories, even the flickering moment, is lost – gone forever.

There was Marsha, who constantly struggled with the guilt of some secret sin. She couldn’t remember it, exactly, only that she did something terrible. Damn the illness that let her remember that, but not the mercy of God in Christ Jesus! Damn the disease that rips her Baptism from her memory but not the accursed action of a fateful day. Damn to eternal hell the illness that lets her remember what she did but not what Jesus did for her at the cross, or that John 3:16 is more than an end-zone sign, or that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

There’s Harry who could remember only that the Lord’s Supper is “good stuff” but not why, or what is so good about it. There he was, watching me like a cat watching a laser’s red dot skirt across the floor, expectantly, and when I would bob my head and say, “Amen,” he would lend his own, “Aaaaaaaa-men,” stretching it out a full three-count, as if keeping time to his favorite polka. And then there was Joy – what an apt name for this saint! – who could only smile while her eyes spoke volumes, trying to communicate what her mouth held in silence. Her lips, tongue, and jaw would move, trying to verbally jump-start a memory into locomotion like her husband’s old ’53 Chevrolet, but without benefit of a hillside, a clutch, and four-on-the-floor she was unsuccessful.

Glen sang their song. He sang it for them, even as his own memory slowly dissolved. Watch the video of his last recording session. You can see his eyes reading the ink blots on the page, the mind translating into vocables and pitches, the vocal chords humming and vibrating as they had done for decades even as his mouth shaped and formed the sounds into words, all done almost in an automatic way. It’s where he belonged, it seemed, as natural as a black shirt on Johnny Cash’s back and a bandanna on Willie’s forehead.

But, in the end, he didn’t miss it at all.

 The child of God has this comfort: you will never hear this song sung in the resurrection. Your Lord will never say how much He misses you. After all, He rescued you, sought you out when you were hopelessly lost and trapped. He redeemed you, paying the ransom price with His own blood and suffering. You will never be an anonymous face, the unknown entity to Him. He has called you by name. You are His. God will not now, or ever, say, “I don’t know you.” He will always, now and into eternity, say, “You look exactly like my Son, My only Son with whom I am well pleased. Come: enter into my presence.” He will never forget you because nothing – nothing! – can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

So, I go Marsha, and I remind her – again! – that her sins are forgiven by Jesus and God loves her as His own. When she asks me – again! – if that’s true, I say, “Yes - He promised.”  I tell Harry that the good stuff is Jesus’ own body and blood. He says, “Yep! He’s here with us!” and I say, “Yes he is, so take and eat; take and drink.” He always says, “Thank you Jesus for visiting me today.” Did he mean me or did he really mean Jesus? He adds his, “Aaaaaaa-men.” And Joy simply smiles at receiving the peace of God, which passes all human understanding, and keeps her heart and mind – yes, even hers – through faith in Christ Jesus.

And God?

He’s not gonna forget any of them.  

 

Life Under the Tree - 1 Kings 19:1-8

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

“Elijah came and sat down under a broom tree. And he asked that he might die, saying, ‘It is enough, now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.’”

A broom tree is scraggly tree that grows in the middle east. It’s scientific name is Retama raetam. It’s valuable for shade to spare you from the midday heat, the sweet smell of it’s flowers will encourage you, fuel from dead and broken branches will keep you warm at night, and the roots are edible in hard times. Think of something like a mesquite or weesatch tree, size-wise, but with pretty, yellow flowers instead of the prickly thorns. A broom tree will keep you alive when there is nothing else and no one else around.

Maybe that’s why Elijah plopped himself down under the broom tree. He had no one else around and nothing else to give. Go home this afternoon and read 1 Kings chapters 17 and 18 – it’ll take you fifteen, twenty minutes – and you’ll read of Elijah and his work. Reader’s Digest Version: After Solomon’s unfaithfulness to God by allowing the worship of false gods in Jerusalem and around the nation, God withdrew His favor. The nation split apart, becoming Israel to the north and Judah to the south. What followed in Israel was, as one wise guy said, “Nothing is so bad as it can’t get worse.” A series of bad-to-worse kings were sent to cause the people to repent and return to Him. Instead, hearts grew even harder toward God and their kings and queens became even more wicked. You’ve at least heard the name Jezebel? She and her husband, King Ahab ruled with an iron fist, and they hunted down as many faithful worshippers of God as they could.

Things came to a head at Mount Caramel. Elijah challenged the prophets of Baal to a contest, a sacrifice-off, if you will: whose god/God would answer and send fire from heaven to consume their sacrifice.  Baal remained silent – of course! He’s not real! – and, no matter what the priests did, there was no fire. Then it was Elijah’s turn. His instructions were followed: twelve stones, stacked; trench, dug; wood, arranged; bull, slaughtered, cut and placed; water, poured. And when he prayed, God sent fire from heaven and consumed it all – stones, dust, wood, bull and water – and at the command of Elijah, the prophets were seized, and they were slaughtered at that very site. He may not have been on top of the world, but he was certainly on the top of Mt. Caramel.   
 
The victory was short-lived. Word comes that he was now public enemy number one. Jezebel hung his photo on the wall of every post office in ancient Israel and, like an old western, he had to get out of Dodge by this time tomorrow.  Doubt sets in: what good was he? Anger: he had done what the Lord asked. Frustration: he had done battle against Baal in the Word of the Lord. Justification: he had stood against Jezebel and Ahab with the name of the Lord. Pity: he was to be hunted down and executed. Defeat: What was the use? If this was all there was to life… He parked himself under a bush and prayed, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” 
 
And our Lord, Elijah’s Lord, He heard the cries of this faithful man of God, this prophet of God who was as used up as the surrounding desert, who had nothing left to give. The Lord heard his prayer and the Lord answered. And the Lord took Elijah’s life, but not as Elijah had hoped. 
 
Elijah’s life had gotten turned in on itself. All he could see was his himself. Thinking he was done, a waste of air, water and food, he prayed to die. “Take my life…” The Lord takes Elijah’s life and turns it back in the right direction – towards the Lord. An angel of the Lord appears to strengthen Elijah in his body with food from heaven. Once, twice, the angel wakes Elijah to eat and drink; once, twice Elijah rises and eats at the angel’s urging. And, with that simple food, the Lord takes Elijah’s life and restores it.  If you want to know how the rest of the narrative plays out, read the rest of chapter 19. Simply, with his life taken, and with life given, Elijah continues to speak “Thus saith the Lord,” both to Israel and to her enemies. 
 
“It is enough, O Lord; take my life.” I think we have all had those moments in the life – again, not suicidal, but take this life of hurt, and pain, and concern, and being consumed. It happens to Christians in all vocations: teachers, lawyers, truck drivers, construction workers, engineers, farmers, ranchers, machinists, seamstresses, cooks, bakers, plumbers, students, coaches and parents. It happens to pastors, too. Ask people why they feel burned out and you get a myriad of reasons: low pay, poor job satisfaction, high stress, insurmountable expectations, feeling inadequately prepared, a boss that turned against an employee add fuel to the fire. Depression, loneliness, and anger rare their ugly heads. And as mental and physical health suffers, families and marriages suffer as well.  
 
Here’s why this is important for Christians. Burn out is bad enough, but then the devil takes all of those feelings and emotions and whatever else he can to lead a child of God to fear, despair and other great shame or vice. He makes you doubt the promises of God for you, that if you were a good enough Christian, this wouldn’t be happening to you. He makes you doubt your faithfulness in your vocation, in your home, and even in your relationship to Jesus. Satan means “father of lies,” remember, and he’ll lie however he can to make you take your eyes off of Jesus. Maybe this was you, or this may even be you right now, where you sit and pray, “It’s enough, O Lord…take my life.” 
 
So, the Lord does. He places you under a tree. Not a broom tree, but under the Tree that we call the cross. He places you under the cross of Jesus, and there, He takes your life from you. Your Lord takes your life from you and drowns it in the font, burying your life with Christ and raising it to life in Christ as well. Your Lord Jesus, who loves you more than He loved Himself, took all of your life’s frustrations and anger and shame and guilt and peeled them all away from your life and attached them to Himself. He doesn’t shake you with an earthquake, He doesn’t knock you down with a windstorm, He doesn’t burn you up in fire. Instead, He takes each and every one of your doubts and disbeliefs and moments of despair and He turns to you and lovingly says, with a still small voice, “Let me take that from you.”
 
Under the tree of the cross, He takes your life away and gives you His: His life, His perfection, His holiness, His sinlessness is imparted to you.  And, in that moment, you can join Paul in saying, “it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me,” (Gal 2:20). 
 
Again, today, your life was taken from you; again, today, His life is given for you. He has gathered you under this tree. He feeds you. He clothes you. He strengthens you to leave this place and return to your own place of life and service to your neighbor in the name of Christ.  
 
And, to you, the one from whom the Lord has taken life and to whom the Lord has given life, so you don’t leave here wanting, still hungering and thirsting for righteousness, to you He speaks again, through the still small voice, speaking to you His love and mercy, reminding you that indeed all of your sins have been washed away in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  
Amen. 
  
 

In Memorium: The Rev. Paul D. Neumann - Romans 8: 31-39

 

The Memorial Service for the Rev. Paul D. Neumann
1-22-1956 – 7-29-2021
August 7, 2021
Redeemer Lutheran Church
Baytown, TX

The Reverend Paul Neumann was born on January 22, 1956. He was baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and later confirmed in that same Baptismal faith. Paul was led by the Spirit of God to serve the Lord and His church and was ordained into the Office of the Holy Ministry in the Lutheran Church - Missouri Synod in 1982. He married his wife, Laura, on March 3, 1990, and together they reared their children Lacey and Andrew. Paul’s service to the Lord concluded here at Redeemer, where he served since December 15, 2016, when he fell asleep in Christ, in his Baytown home, on July 29, 2021, at the age of 65 years, six months, and seven days. Blessed are those who die in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore. 

The text for today is from Romans 8:31-39, one of Paul’s favorite passages: “What, then, shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also with Him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died - more than that, who was raised - who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? For as it is written, “For your sake, we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things, we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation shall be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Dear family members, friends, brothers in ministry, saints of God at Redeemer, and especially you, Laura, Lacey and Andrew: Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. 

 We speak of faith in two aspects. The first is faith as a noun, as in the Christian Faith. This is the faith as revealed in the Scriptures, confessed in the Creeds, and taught in our Lutheran Confessions. This is the faith that teaches we are saved by God’s grace through faith in Christ Jesus. “I believe in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended into hell. The third day He rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. From thence He will come to judge the living and the dead.” This is the faith that proclaims Christ’s resurrection as the Lord of Life and that those who believe in Him will also live eternally. Most importantly, the empty grave demonstrates the Father accepted the Son’s payment on our behalf and it is the prelude of our own resurrection when He returns. This faith is objective: it is steadfast and true and does not change like shifting shadows.

 And then there is faith as trusting and believing. By the power of the Holy Spirit, we are enabled to say, “I believe these sure and certain promises of God.” Spirit-given faith, even the size of a mustard seed, is saving faith because it trusts Christ alone as the source of our salvation. This enables the Christian to confess “I believe” what the Creeds say, “This is the Christian faith.” “I believe that Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, also true man, born of the Virgin Mary, is my Lord. Who has redeemed me, a lost and condemned creature, purchased and won me from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with gold or silver, but with His holy, precious blood and his innocent suffering and death, that I may be His own and live under Him in His kingdom…” This faith is personal. It is God’s gift to His children. It is subjective; it ebbs and flows, sometimes it is a hot, roaring fire, sometimes it isn’t much more than a smoldering wick, but it is always grounded in the sure and certain faithfulness of Jesus. This faith takes the objective faith, we are saved by grace through faith, and in that personal, subjective believing, Christ’s faithfulness becomes ours.   

It is the Lutheran pastor’s vocation to proclaim the Christian faith to the people of God. As a called and ordained servant of the word, pastors baptize, preach, teach, visit, marry and bury. In the stead and by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ, pastors speak absolution to the heart and conscience that is burdened by guilt and broken by shame. Whether in the pulpit or a hospital emergency room, in front of the altar or in front of the shut-in’s kitchen table, at the font or at the NIC-U bassinet, the truth of Jesus Christ and the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed. In the face of life and death, in the joys and heartbreaks of life of the people in his parish, the pastor points people to Jesus and to the certainty of His death and His resurrection as the source of salvation. “Christ Jesus is the one who died - more than that, who was raised - who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? … No, in all these things, we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.” This is most certainly true: Christ who died, Christ who was raised, Christ who intercedes, Christ who unites and holds us to the Father’s arms, Christ who makes us children of God. This was the message of St. Paul the Apostle; this was the same message that you heard your pastor, your husband, your father, and friend preach over and over. 

But a pastor is also a child of God who confesses Jesus in his own life. He doesn’t just say “this is the faith.” He also says, “and this, this I believe.” And, as a child of God, who both lives and serves under the cross, there are times when the weight of that cross presses down. This is true for every Christian, but in many ways, it’s an even greater weight on the pastor. There’s an old phrase that the pastors will well recognize, a phrase coined by Luther, that a pastor isn’t formed by classrooms, but by prayer, meditating on the Word, and by the struggles of life under the cross of Jesus. We carry not only the yoke of the Office, but those of the parish as well and our own families. Life as a pastor is not always golf courses, sermons that pour out like water and are welcomed with words of high praise, cooing babies and 5-star potlucks. Often there are bitter meetings followed by angry phone calls, sermons that are hard-fought to write and not well received, confirmands that don’t return, and cold meals eaten long after the rest of the family has left the table and the kids are tucked into bed. And, the cross is felt at home, too, by the wife and children who sometimes and unfairly get the short end of the stick. Paul had his fair share, plus an extra scoop or two, over his almost 40 years of ministry, and in many ways you three bore that cross along with him. 

Yet, Paul remained a faithful child of God. That’s not to say that there weren’t moments where that faith wasn’t shaken, moments where faith the size of a mustard seed would have been a welcome improvement, moments where the cross seemed as if it were about to break off the crushed reed and wash over the smoldering wick. Yet, even in those moments, as a baptized child of God, Paul held onto the absolute certainty of the promises of God in Christ Jesus. I served Our Shepherd in Crosby thru June of 2017. Before I left this circuit for Victoria, I had the privilege of hearing Paul preach at our monthly circuit meeting. With his big voice filling the room and with fire in his words, he spoke of Jesus’ death and His resurrection, and His forgiveness of us who are united to Christ through Baptism into Jesus, “even,” he added, as emotion broke into that big voice, mellowing it into a gentle rumble. He paused, touched his hand to his mouth, and continued, “even for a sinner like me.” 

How could he say that? Because of faith in Christ. Our translation says, “I am sure,” but I think that’s a little soft. I prefer a more powerful translation of the verb: “I am certain, confident, convinced - think exclamation point here! - I am certain (!) that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, or things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Amen, amen, it is most certainly true!

I said we speak of faith in two aspects: one that is objective and universal, one that is subjective and personal. Both not only speak of Christ who died and rose, both look ahead at what and who is to come. The Creeds confess it: “I believe in the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life of the world to come.” Faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen. The Scriptures record Christ’s promises to return. He promises our own resurrection. The Scriptures proclaim it. The Church confesses it. You are baptized into it. And, by the power of the Holy Spirit, you believe it, just as Paul preached it to you and believed it himself. And, because it’s Christ’s promise, you know it is true: that in the resurrection of all flesh, Paul, by grace through faith in Christ, will have his, “I am certain” answered by Jesus Himself. “Well done, good and faithful servant.” 

Now, a word especially for you, Laura, and you Lacey and Andrew. Your husband, your father, was fond of speaking about how much he looked forward to seeing Jesus. I know that is a little bittersweet, but I want you to know he followed a good role model. St. Paul the apostle did much the same when he wrote to the Philippians how he desired to be with both the church and with Jesus. I know what it is to lose a dad at a young age - Dad was 57 when he died; I was 26.  I watched my Mom wrestle with losing her spouse, also of 30 years. We don’t get a say when the Lord calls our loved ones home. In these grey and latter days, hold fast to the faith and the promises of God. Read these passages of Scripture again; hear Jesus’ promises for you. Share your grief together; share your hope and your faith in Jesus together. But don’t do it in a vacuum. For you also believe in the holy Christian church and the communion of saints. Gather together with the church, the saints of God on earth. Let them care for you. Let them hold you. Let them be a source of strength for you in your weakness. And, remember: when you gather with the church on earth, you’re not just worshipping with these saints. You also worship with the saints who have gone before, the angels and archangels and all the company of heaven, whose heavenly worship of the resurrected Jesus joins with ours on earth.  

And to you, people of Redeemer, be the body of Christ to this family. Walk along side them. Care for them. Be compassionate with them. Weep with them, rejoice with them, laugh with them, talk with them, and, sometimes, be silent with them. They know how much Paul loved Jesus. Now, remind them of Paul’s love for them, and more than that, of Jesus’ great love for them, and that you, too, are certain that nothing can separate them from the love of God in Christ Jesus their Lord.

The last time I worshipped at Redeemer was the day of Pastor Neumann’s installation, December 15, 2016. Nine pastors each spoke a blessing or prayer for him. The verse I shared with him that day was from Romans 15:13. “Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, that you may overflow in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” It seemed appropriate to share a word from St. Paul the Apostle as St. Paul Neumann began his pastorate here. There was joy and there was thanksgiving as we celebrated the gift of God in providing a pastor for this church. 

So, it’s a little strange to be here again today. Today is the reversal, if you will, of Paul’s installation. We aren’t celebrating the beginning of his ministry, but giving thanks to God for Paul’s faithful service to Him, to His church, and to his family. The pastors are here, again with red stoles; the family is here; the congregation is here. But Paul is at rest, asleep in Jesus, waiting the resurrection of all flesh. Yet, even in our grief and through our tears, we rejoice in the promise of Christ that He is the resurrection and the life, and that those who live and believe in Him shall never die. 

I close with the blessing I spoke over Paul at his installation. “Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, that you may overflow in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Amen. 

 

Manna Points to Jesus - Exodus 16 & John 6

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

Manna. We call it bread, but it wasn’t really bread – at least, not like we know bread. From Exodus, we know it as a flaky substance with a slight honey-like sweetness that would be present on the ground in the morning when the dew dried. In my mind, I imagine something that looked like corn flakes or rice krispies. That doesn’t sound like Mrs. Baird’s finest, does it, or a crispy crackly artisanal loaf sliding out of the oven at the bakery, or even the little bread sticks you get at the restaurant while you wait for your meal. The Israelites called it manna. Manna, translated, doesn’t mean bread. It’s actually a one-word question, “What is it?” It’s a question that answers itself: it is what it is: manna.

Every morning, the Israelites were to go out and gather enough – just enough – for each person in the household. They did this each day, except for the day before Sabbath when they were to gather a double portion, because they couldn’t work, collect the manna, on the Sabbath. Those who gathered more than enough, those who tried to stockpile, those who tried to squirrel away a little extra just in case God didn’t come through, that would turn and spoil by the next morning with maggots and worms, so all that extra saving, that extra work wasn’t worth it. It was work that came from worry fueled by distrust. Your work wasn’t wasted if you gathered just, and only, enough.

Faith trusts that God will provide. And every morning, for forty years, the Israelites woke up and gathered their manna. It was simple, it was plain, it was the original survival food, and that – coupled with the quail that landed in the evenings - sustained the Israelites through forty years of wilderness wandering. Every day, just enough to live; every day, enough for every member of the family, the tribe, the people. Every day, day in, day out. Enough.

“Give us this day our daily bread.” That’s what we pray every time we say the Lord’s Prayer.  Luther, in his Small Catechism, expounds on daily bread to include all the wants and needs of our bodily life. He included not only food and water but also clothes, shelter, family, and even our vocational work. We could understand this petition this way: Give us enough food and water that we are not uncomfortably hungry; enough of a home that we are protected from the weather and elements; enough of a job that we can provide; enough of a family and friend-base that we are not alone.  Give us today enough that we may live and show love to our neighbor.

Give us this day enough daily bread.  We pray this. But, do we mean it? Daily bread. Give us just enough. Daily? Enough? Do we trust that? Do we believe He will provide? A dear friend told me, “You don’t realize the power of that prayer until you can’t see tomorrow in your pantry. In that moment, with your kids looking at you with fearful eyes, all you have left is faith that, somehow, God will provide and He will give us enough.”

Enough. Enough is a powerful word. It’s a word of contentment, a word of satisfaction, a word without complaint or criticism. Enough is grounded in faith and trust in the Fatherly goodness of God and His promises. Enough entrusts our daily bread needs to the mercy of God and it surrenders our wants to His perfect will for us. When we say there isn’t enough, it’s saying God will not provide, that we don’t believe He will keep His promise, that daily bread will not be present.

Enough is a word that we do not use well, especially when it comes to daily bread and First Article gifts. In our country and culture of abundance, we’ve turn God into a commissary, a divine vending machine that operates on prayers, not coins, an ATM of material, earthly blessings, that spits out what we want. So we pray, not for basic bread needs, but give us this day our daily filet and a glass of merlot; this week a new truck and a better job; this year straight-A health, six-digit wealth, and happiness to light up the night sky. We pray, not that He gives us enough, but that gives it all to us in abundance so that our cups and our cupboards and our counters all overflow. And, the irony is, if we don’t get what we ask for, or as much as we ask for, with the quality that we ask for, then somehow we blame God as if He is the bad guy, not our malcontent, discontent, noncontent attitude toward daily bread.

 Here’s a question: why did God provide the manna? Most people would say, “because the people grumbled.” But grumbling is a sin against God. It breaks the 9^th and 10^th commandments and also the first – God, we know better! This was a crisis situation! Yes, starvation is a problem. But, look further at what the Israelites were doing: God had rescued them from the hands of the heathen Egyptians. He had shown His might against Pharoah and his army. He had parted the Red Sea; He brought Israel across on dry land. He demonstrated His power over creation and over death. He was Israel’s God and they were His people, even in a foreign place. And, now, Israel was grumbling. They grumbled about a lack of food. But, more than that, they grumbled about how things were – as if they were better off in Egypt as slaves. It’s as if they were saying, “God, we were better off before you got involved, before your servant, Moses, stirred things up.” Psychologists refer to this as “memory bias,” when we look to things in the past, see them through rose colored glasses as being better than they really were, in order to paint the present tense in a more negative way.

For that matter, why does God provide daily bread for us? Not because of grumbling, that’s for sure. He does not send daily bread to merely silence His critics. He did it to Israel and He does it for us because He was their God, they were His people; He is our God and we are His people. He does it out of His Fatherly love and His ever-present inclination to show mercy. He did it for forty years of literal daily bread. Once a day, two quarts per person; six days a week for a total of 12,400 morning collections of manna. Manna, three meals a day, twenty one times a week, 1122 times a year, just under 45,000 manna and quail meals during their wilderness wanderings. He does it for you through your vocational work, through your spouse, parents and children, through your grocer and physicians and home builder and your neighbor, daily bread provided daily.

More than that, out of His Fatherly goodness and mercy, and out of His faithfulness to His promises, He also provides bread into eternity – bread that does not spoil or fade or perish.  He sends His Son into the World

That’s why the crowd was so enamored with Jesus. He could provide daily bread in abundance. As long as they could keep hold of Him, no one would be hungry. Starvation would be a thing of the past. Grumbling, rumbling bellies would be satiated and the people would all be happy. By extension, then, they wouldn’t have to work so hard to put food on the table. It would be trickle-down economics of the first order!  A King like that could upset the whole balance of power in the world. They tried to seize Jesus, to make Him king. Jesus avoids the crowd, giving them the slip, only to call them out, identifying that as the only reason they were following after Him. They wanted daily bread to fend off the hungries.

Jesus redirects them, instead, to His true purpose. Jesus wanted to give bread of a greater kind to the crowds – not a daily, just-enough, bread, but in abundance, not just a loaf that would fill the tummy today, but bread that satisfies into eternity. “Do not labor for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you.” (Jn. 6:27). He is teaching the crowds that followed to stop following Him because of the miracles and the baskets of bread. Receive daily bread with thanksgiving, yes, but also follow Jesus to receive the gift that lasts into eternity. “I am the bread of life,” He said. “Whoever comes to me shall not hunger and whoever believes in me shall never thirst.” Christ satisfies the hunger of those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.

“I am the Bread of Life,” Jesus said.  Jesus is manna for sinners - those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.  You, in all the ways that sin has left you empty and hungry.  There is food that endures forever.  A Bread that gives life forever.  A drink that quenches your thirst and soothes your parched soul.  Not “chicken soup for the soul,” but bread of life for your life.  The gift isn’t earned by going to work each day. This is a food that’s given you free, gratis, from the Son of Man, from Jesus, marked in His Baptism as the Son of God and Source of salvation. 

It’s been said that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. Know that while He gives it freely, it was at great cost. The price for this bread was His own life, suffering greater agony than the hottest ovens. This is the sign: not changing a boy’s lunch into a all-you-can-eat bread buffet, but His own death and resurrection. That’s how this Bread of Life is baked - in the fiery furnace of God’s wrath against our sin and in the burning heat of His passion to save His fallen creation.  Like wheat ground up by the mill and put into the fire, Jesus endured the cross bearing our sin in order to be our Food, the Source of life.

As there were 12 baskets full of leftovers after feeding the 5000, you never have to wonder if there is enough of this life-giving bread for you. His righteousness, His holiness, His forgiveness, His mercy fills completely. The bread overflows. This is Jesus Himself - Jesus in the Word, Jesus in your Baptism, Jesus in the Bread and Cup.  Jesus, for the full and free forgiveness of all of your sins. Eat and drink, trust in Him, and you will filled with life forever.