The Transfiguration of Jesus - Luke 9:28-36

What a difference a week makes. A week earlier, Jesus had asked the disciples what the crowds were saying about him. They answered, some were saying Jesus is John the Baptist, or Elijah or one of the other prophets. “What about you all – what do you disciples say about me? Peter spoke up on behalf of the twelve: “You are the Christ of God.” Luke records Jesus’ instructions: don’t tell anyone. Then Jesus adds, “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes and be killed and on the third day be raised.” (Luke 9:23).

Over the course of the next few days, Jesus’ strange, suffering talk would continue. “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. ²⁴ For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” This is a far cry from all of the cool, miraculous stuff Jesus had been doing. Why, shortly before this he had fed the 5000 with a boy’s lunch (9:10ff); he healed a woman from blood loss and Jairus’ sick daughter (8:40ff); he drove demons out of a man and into a herd of pigs (8:26ff). He even calmed a storm (8:22). That’s cool stuff, that’s powerful stuff, that’s the kind of hero the disciples – and the crowds – could get behind!

But this suffering talk… it’s a real downer. No one likes to talk about death and dying. Think about the family get-togethers you’ve had. What do you talk about? Upcoming vacations, and confirmations, and graduations; plans for family trips and get-aways. You talk about baseball season and the weather and the size of that new house going in down the road. But no one talks about their own death. No one talks about their family cemetery plots. We want to focus on life, not death.

So, don’t be too hard on Peter. Truly, he loves Jesus; truly, he wants to serve Jesus. Also truly, he has a misunderstanding of who Jesus really is and what His purpose is. And, truly, Peter has a misunderstanding of his own role. Perhaps he’s trying to win points for protecting Jesus, or perhaps he’s trying to gain influence by showing himself a go-getter. Maybe he thinks he’s being a good friend. We don’t know. What we do know is that Peter wants to do whatever is necessary to stay on the mountain and not go back down there.

Down there. Who would want to go “down there?” Before they came up the mountain, Jesus talked of dying. If they go back down there, He would face that death. But on the mountain…on the mountain, things were glorious.

We use an expression in English to describe what is taking place on the top of the mount of transfiguration: it’s a mountaintop high. A mountaintop high is something so remarkable, something so beautiful, breathtaking, wonderful, enlightening, heart-stoppingly incredible that you don’t ever want it to end. Although we use the expression, it doesn’t literally have to be on top of a mountain. These moments can be anywhere that a place of wonder and amazement and joy can happen. A hospital delivery room, a multi-colored sunrise or sunset radiating down through the clouds, standing in a lush, green valley looking up into the snow-capped Rocky mountains, watching a rainbow appear from the raindrops and slowly fade away, seeing a baby take first, tentative steps, when you see your bride step through the doors of the sanctuary. As Jim Croce said, you wish you could put time in a bottle and keep those moments forever.

Just moments before, Peter – along with James and John - had seen Jesus transfigured, where His appearance became whiter than white. Where Jesus’ divinity had been hidden since His Bethlehem birth, on the mountain, His glory shone with all of its radiant brightness. If that’s not enough to stun Peter, James and John, Jesus is joined on the mountaintop with two of the Old Testament’s great heroes of faith: Moses, the great lawgiver, and Elijah, the great prophet. Jesus fulfills the law given through Moses, and is the one foretold by Elijah.

Luke tells us what’s taking place. Elijah and Moses “spoke of Jesus’ departure, which He was about to accomplish in Jerusalem.” Departure sounds like an airplane. The original text uses the word exodus. In other words, they were speaking about His Passion, that He must suffer at the hands of the chief priests and scribes, be crucified, and with his death pay the full wages of sin with his own death.

But Peter? Peter was not ready for Jesus to go down to the valley of the shadow. If he could delay Jesus, if He could impede His descent from the holy mountain down to where Jesus’ enemies would be waiting, then all would be well. He offers to build three tabernacles, three tents, one each for Jesus, Moses and Elijah, and says so that they can all stay up on the mountain and live happily ever after. No death…no dying…none of that stuff we don’t want to talk about.

The group is suddenly swallowed by a cloud. Throughout the Scriptures, clouds are symbols of and even manifestations of the glory of God. Where moments earlier, Jesus face shown with the radiance of His glory, they are now overwhelmed by an even greater glory. If there is any doubt of what is taking place, the voice of the Father in heaven shatters the moment. “This is my beloved son. Listen to Him.”

Those words echo Jesus’ baptism where the Father spoke to Jesus, “You are my beloved Son.” The Father’s words re-focus the entire purpose of Jesus life and ministry. Jesus did not come to dwell in a tent built on top of a mountaintop. His purpose in ministry wasn’t to hide up in the clouds with two heroes of old and three disciples in training and live in blissful abandon. He isn’t going to tabernacle on top of the mountain; He comes to tabernacle among us. Jesus must go down the Mount of Transfiguration and then up the mountain of Zion, where Jerusalem sits, where the cross is waiting for Him; He will be arrested; He will be convicted; He will die abandoned and forsaken by everyone.

Remember, Moses and Elijah were speaking with Jesus about His exodus. It’s interesting Luke used that word. Exodus is the second book of the Bible and it describes God’s plan of salvation for captive Israel, rescuing them from the hands of their slave-masters, the Egyptians, through his servant, Moses. Jesus’ exodus would be the fulfillment of God’s plan of salvation for the captive world, rescuing us from sin, death, and the devil.  

We are entering the season of Lent. It is a somber season, intended to be one of penitential reflection as we consider our own mortality and our own sinfulness. We will hear Jesus speak of His coming passion. We will see tensions rise between Him and His enemies and they will plot to kill him. We will ponder this incredible story of love once again, the perfectly sinless Son of God who becomes our substitute. The hymns become heavier, both in tone and in the theology they carry, and we will set aside the use of the word alleluia. Alleluia is a word of praise and celebration; Lent is not a time for that word, so we will “bury” it until Easter morning when we will mark it’s own resurrection with the Easter cry “Christ is risen, He is risen indeed, Alleluia!”

But we are not there, yet. We are heading down into the valley of the shadow. With Jesus we will descend the Mount of Transfiguration. We will journey with Jesus to the cross. But more than that, know that Jesus journeys with you as you carry your own cross this Lententide.

As you enter Lent, do so with the words of the Father on the Mount of Transfiguration in your ears: You are my beloved sons and daughters. Remember, in your baptism where the Triune name of God was spoken over him, “In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” it began with the sign of the cross over his forehead and heart as a reminder that he had been redeemed by Christ the crucified. Remember that this Jesus, of whom we speak, did not stay on top of a mountaintop, safe and secure, but went down into the valley of the shadow of death for you. Hear the words of absolution for you, declaring your sins forgiven. Remember, as well, that you have already died in Christ in your baptism, and that just as Christ was raised from the dead, he too shall be raised to new life when Christ returns.

And, in that resurrection day, we, too, will be transfigured. Raised in glory, our bodies – whole and complete, holy and glorified – will also shine like Christ’s, never to die again. With Moses and Elijah and all the faithful, we will enjoy the blessed joy of eternity in the presence of the Father who declares you His beloved and that with you He is pleased.

 

 

Receiving and Delivering Mercy - Luke 6:27-38

 In this morning’s Gospel lesson, Jesus speaks to His faithful and offers us a glimpse of both discipleship and how the Kingdom of God comes to earth in Christ Jesus.

They sound almost like proverbs, these pithy statements of Jesus. A disciple is hated and responds with love. A disciple is cursed and responds with blessing. A disciple is abused and responds with prayer. At first glance, it seems this is to be a sermon on forgiveness, refusing to hold a sin against those who have sinned against us. But, then the narrative shifts slightly: when encountering a beggar, a disciple gives. When having things stolen, a disciple does not seek repayment. That’s not exactly speaking of forgiveness. And again, the narrative goes deeper: “love your enemies and do good, and expect nothing in return.” What is Jesus doing?

Again and again, in real-life situation after situation, Jesus reveals one principle that rules over all. Mercy. "Be merciful even as your Father is merciful" (6:36).

What delights me about this list is that these are only moments. Moments of mercy. People sometimes accuse Lutherans of having faith that is too much head or too much heart and not enough hands. People want to see skin on your theology, so to speak. By listing a series of situations in rapid succession, Jesus overwhelms us with how practical, how real, how tangible, how concrete, how utterly achievable life as a disciple of Jesus in the kingdom can be.

Here’s the beauty: we don't need special skills to be a Christian. Having received mercy, we offer mercy. It’s a gift given to all of God’s people of great and overflowing measure. Mercy in, mercy out.

I read an article the other day – I’m sorry, I forget the source – that said Americans are becoming more and more polarized, not only politically but socially. More than ever, we are living in places that mirror our own ideas, ideals, political beliefs, religious ideas, and educational or professional standards. The danger of that is we aren’t seeing others as flesh-and-blood people, but as things to either win to our side or defeat. And, when confronted with people or ideas we don’t like, conventional wisdom says overwhelm and overcome.

It's a sad commentary that even the Ad Council is now running commercials encouraging people to practice compassion.

Jesus says we don't need to surround ourselves with only certain kinds of people. When confronted with anger, disparagement, and rejection, we suffer without vengeance. When coming across those who are homeless, helpless, and hopeless, we love without distinction. We continue to live in the world, but we do so fully invested in our daily lives because we know that the kingdom of God is present here. Anytime and everywhere, moments of mercy can break out in our world.

Look no further than the cross of Jesus. The Innocent one prayed for forgiveness of those who murdered Him. The beguiled one spoke words of eternal power to the man who, only moments earlier, mocked Him for being powerless. The dying Son commended His own mother into the loving hands of St. John. The King of the Jews, thirsty for righteousness, denied himself even a sip of water to slake His thirst, suffering in our place to the end. The Son of God, who sacrificed Himself for all of the world, pleaded for the Father’s mercy, only to be met with the silence of separation that we deserved. The Lamb of God, with His dying breath, delivered mercy to a world of sinners with His cry, “It is finished.”

The beauty of this is that moments of mercy can be quite powerful. God can use a moment of mercy to change a person's life.

We are soon approaching the season of Lent and we will again hear the Passion of Jesus, His crucifixion and death. When Jesus died, St. Matthew records that a centurion stood at the foot of the cross and confessed, “Truly, this Man was the Son of God.” According to tradition, the centurion’s name was Longinus and his confession was soon put to the test as Jewish and Roman leaders worked in concert to spread rumors that Jesus’ body was stolen by the disciples, not resurrected. Not only did Longinus refuse to be part of the scheme, he openly and publicly spoke of Jesus’ bodily resurrection. Later baptized, Longinus went to Cappadocia where he became a powerful evangelist even in the face of persecution by Jews and prosecution by the Roman government as a traitor. When he was finally trapped, he prepared a meal for his captors-to-be. Following in the footsteps of His Savior, Longinus said, “I am the man whom you seek,” and surrendered himself. He was taken to Jerusalem and, tradition says, he was martyred not far from where he made his first confession.

In the hand of God, one small act of mercy can be the beginning of new life for the lost.

To those fully schooled in the ways of the world, this way of the kingdom seems wrong. Unjust. Backwards. You should defend yourself, claim your rights, guard your possessions, and repay evil with evil. Fight dirty. Get even plus one. Do unto others before they do unto you. But in the kingdom of God, moments of mercy are the wrong that makes things right.

Consider how Christ made us children of the kingdom. He came to us in our sinfulness and bought our lives with his innocent suffering and death. As Luther reminds us, "he has redeemed me . . . not with gold or silver but with his holy, precious blood and with his innocent suffering and death." The death of Jesus is the wrong that makes things right.

God, the Father, sent his Son into our world to be the spring of his bountiful mercy. By his death and resurrection, Jesus opens a fountain of mercy that has a never-ending stream. You saw this again this morning – mercy flowing through baptismal water to claim Brittany and Adalyn as His own dear children. Just as water can awaken life in soil that has been dry and dead for years, so too God brings life in the wilderness of our world through moments of mercy.

This is important because we live in a world that has lost sight of mercy. Our culture is changing – not always for the better. We are becoming a cancel culture. If you’ve not heard this term, in a cancel culture, if a moment of sin or error is uncovered, then the one who committed that sin is canceled. They are declared irrelevant, unimportant, not worthy of time and effort. Like a stamp that is cancelled, a cancelled person is seen as worthless. A text message from twenty years ago containing a racial slur is enough to cancel someone’s career. A poorly chosen social media post cancels someone from the cheer squad. It doesn't matter that a teenage boy can grow and change and even repent of his earlier actions. Society’s answer to sin is cancelation. Not forgiveness. And certainly not restoration.

In a cancel culture, the supposed cure actually kills. Cancellation purifies by exclusion. It sanctifies by silencing. And soon our streets will be filled with people who don't matter.

 Into such a world, Jesus speaks these words to his people. He awakens in our lives an echo of his grace. Repentance, forgiveness, new life are foreign concepts in a culture obsessed with canceling. But in the kingdom of God, these are the ways of God's working. So, it is a blessing not only for us but for our world that Jesus comes and speaks these words today.

He reminds us that the kingdom we live in is a kingdom of grace, filled with moments of life-changing mercy breaking out in our world. Having received mercy, we share mercy with those who need it most.

In Jesus’ name. Amen.

 

 

 

 

The Guarantee of the Resurrection is in Jesus - 1 Cor 15: 1-20

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

Recently on his late-night talk show, Stephen Colbert, was asked by his guest Dala Lipa about the role his Roman Catholic faith plays in his daily life, how it interacts and interplays with his comedy. She asked, “Does your faith and comedy ever overlap and does one ever win out?” Colbert chuckled nervously, looked up at the ceiling and said, “I think, ultimately, all of us being mortal, the faithful win out in the end” – and he had to pause here for some laughter from the audience before concluding – “But I certainly hope that when I get to heaven, Jesus has a sense of humor.” (approx. 4:30 at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pUaWDqDOWPk)

For St. Paul in this morning’s Epistle reading, faith and life are so closely interrelated and interconnected that Christ’s crucifixion and resurrection is not merely a past-tense event - something that happened outside of Jerusalem a few years earlier -  and Jesus’ return and our own corresponding resurrection isn’t merely a future-tense event - and if you ask most people, I imagine that they would probably say it’s a far distant event at that – for Paul, the resurrection is a present-tense reality. This is so because the death and resurrection of Jesus, fulfilling all of the prophecies of Scripture, forgives all of our sins. There is nothing that is more present-tense than that we are forgiven children of God through the vicarious sacrifice of His Son, Jesus the Christ.

Remember, after Jesus’ resurrection, Jesus appeared to many of His followers so that there would be other eyewitnesses besides just the 12, too many to discount. First there was Peter, than the rest of the Twelve, then over five hundred more, then James (who became the leader of the church in Jerusalem), and finally, to Paul himself, in a brilliant bright light, calling Paul to repentance and faith in Him, not as one to be prosecuted but believed and confessed. So, Paul speaks from first-person experience. It’s as if he is saying, I have seen the Resurrected One! I know His resurrection is true and that what I speak is true because I am one of those eyewitnesses!

But, what if…what if there was no resurrection? What if there was no resurrection? If that were true, then the last breath and the final heartbeat would be it; the grave would be the final destination, and the closing of the casket would be the terrible “THE END” of life. And, if there was no resurrection, then there would be no resurrection for Jesus, either. The Easter victory would be an erstwhile joke. Without Christ’s resurrection, there is no resurrection for those who believe in Jesus. The church would be filled with fools and, of all people, Christians would be the most miserable, pitied chumps ever seen. If there was no resurrection, everything the church taught, everything preached by Paul, and Peter, and Luther, and all of the pastors who have stood in Zion’s pulpits over the years, everything that Christians have died for, what has been confessed by all of you and your parents, and everything ever preached and taught in the Scriptures, would all be, at best, a sad punchline; at worst, an out-and-out lie.

And, an even greater folly would be that God Himself would be a liar for it would be His promise that His people believed, from Old Testament thru New Testament to today, that would be exposed as the terrible untruth. And, if there was no resurrection, if there was no resurrection of Christ, then there would be no reason to believe in forgiveness of sins, or eternity with God, or peace being restored. No…if there was no resurrection, then there would be only death. Physical death leads to eternal, spiritual death. The curse of Eden would have blossomed from the tree of knowledge of good and evil into the blackest flower of death.

And, if that were true, what would we be left with? Hope? A quasi-hope, a pseudo-hope, a faux hope of the life we have this side of the grave…well, that’s not much hope, is it? Hope without certainty, hope without joy, hope without “Amen!” is no hope at all. If that were true, what a hope-less way to live. If that were true, what a hope-less way to die. It’s pitiful.

Then, Paul shifts. He adds the small word, “But…” Through his argument, Paul has  been making an argument from the negative to prove the positive. If this were true, then that would be true. Then, he shifts: He’s moving from the realm of “what if” to the world of certainty. “But, in fact…”  It’s as if he’s said, “If all of that were true, that there was no resurrection, then it would be bad news. But it’s not true, is it? In fact, Christ has been raised from the dead!”

God’s promises are, in fact, fulfilled with resurrection. Or, perhaps, we should say they are filled with resurrection. From the “he will crush your head” of Genesis 3 to Jesus declaration, “Destroy this temple and I will rebuild it in three days,” to “It is finished,” to “He is not here – He is risen as He said,” the resurrection is not a “what if” moment. It’s a “this is most certainly true!” moment. There is Easter; there is resurrection; there is eternal life. The grave is a resting place, not a final destination.  God takes something that was not intended, death, and He uses it as His instrument to rescue His faithful from this world of a resurrection-in-waiting to the life everlasting.

Need evidence? Want to be sure this is not another “what if?” Don’t just take my word for it. Look to Jesus. He’s the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. Firstfruits: firstfruits are the initial crop; it implies that more will follow. It’s the beginning with a promise of more to come. It’s the initial harvest; more will be brought into the larder. Because of Christ’s resurrection, those who believe in Him will likewise be raised. Because of Christ’s resurrection, those who have been baptized into Him will be raised. Because of Christ’s resurrection, those who have fallen asleep in Him will be raised. Because of Christ’s resurrection, because He has conquered sin, death and hell in His resurrection, because of Christ, the faithful will be resurrected as well.

Because of Christ. What a difference those three words make when facing the harsh reality of death, the ridged coldness of the casket, and the dark depth of the grave. Because of Christ, the bodies of the faithfully departed are at rest, a peaceful “sleep,” if you will, while their souls already receive the eternity with Jesus. Because of Christ, the casket is the place where the body waits. The grave is temporary.

Too often, in funeral sermons you hear the pastor say something like this: “And now, Dear Aunt Maybel is with Jesus and she’s not suffering any more.” And, after a few more polite jokes about sharing her pie recipe with all the others in heaven, he says amen.

I hope you never hear me leave a funeral sermon with the soul in heaven. That misses out on the best part, in fact, it’s the very Gospel of Jesus in the face of the terror of the Law that stares from the earth.

When you die, it’s not just body in the grave and the soul with Jesus. There’s more – Paul Harvey would say, “The rest of the story.” Remember: Christ is the firstfruit. He’s gone through death and the grave first. And, He rose from the grave. In His resurrection He has conquered death and has blown open the grave. That means there will be a resurrection for you, as well, and for all of the faithful who die in faith. Christ’s resurrection is the prophetic promise of your resurrection. That’s why you confessed it a few minutes ago, “We believe in the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.” You confess it, you believe it, you trust it because it is true.

There is a wonderful hymn that I would encourage each of you to learn and memorize. Hymn 486, “If Christ had not Been Raised from Death.” It takes 1 Corinthians 15 and puts it to rhyme, meter and music to make it learnable and accessible. Verse two speaks to the promise:

If Christ still lay within the tomb, then death would be the end,
And we would face our final doom with neither guide nor friend.
But now the Savior is raised up, so when a Christian dies
We mourn, yet look to God in hope – in Christ, the saints arise. (LSB 486.2)

That’s important, because when death is knocking, when satan is lying about what is happening to your loved one or to you, you need to hear that Jesus will not leave you abandoned. Christ suffered for you. He died for you. God forgives you because of Christ Jesus. You are redeemed. If satan tries to throw your sins in your face, throw them back at him. Admit it: Yep, I’m a sinner. But Jesus is a greater Savior and He’s stripped that from me so all that God sees is His beloved child. And, because of Jesus, He promises that He will one day raise me just as He did His own Son.

I understand that Colbert’s vocation is not to be an evangelist. He’s an entertainer who occasionally brings his faith into the storyline. For him, faith and life sometimes intersect that way. And, on his show, he was trying to be both funny and diplomatic while at the same time speaking a word of truth about the faith he believes. If he had memorized this hymn, he could have answered, without chuckles, using verse three:  

If Christ had not been truly raised, His Church would live a lie;
His name should nevermore be praised, His words deserve to die.
But now our great Redeemer lives; through Him we are restored;
His Word endures, His Church revives, in Christ, our risen Lord. (LSB 486.3)

Amen.

Now may the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds through faith in Christ Jesus, who is the Resurrection and the Life. Amen.

Miracles of Miracles: Jesus Catches Sinners - Luke 5:1-11

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

This summer will be the 22^nd anniversary year of my ordination into the office of the holy ministry in the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod. A lot of baptismal water has flown under the bridge, so to speak. I tell you this without bragging or boasting: the average pastorate is now seven years before a man resigns from the office. There were days I wondered if I would make seven, or seventeen, but the Lord has been good to me. I’m humbled and thankful that the Lord sees fit to grant me the grace to continue in this vocation that He called me into already as a boy and then formally through the call process of the LCMS.

As I read this morning’s text, I started thinking about the 98 men, young and old, who graduated with me. We started together in the fall of 1996 and graduated in May of 2000. We were one of the largest and one of the most diverse the Seminary had in a long time. About 70 of us were fresh from college, in our early-to-mid-20s, many of us recently married, heading to Seminary with whatever life experience we had working part-time summers and vacations. There were lifeguards, grocery stockers, a house painter, waiters, a pre-law Harvard graduate, a couple of farmer’s sons, and more than a few sons of Lutheran school teachers or pastors. That was the old, traditional route for becoming a pastor: high school, college, seminary, ordination. About 30 of us were called “second career men,” who had been in the workforce for some time and were returning to school to become pastors. John was a successful insurance agent. Mark owned a Kinkos franchise. Phil had been successful in business. Dale retired as a beat cop. Andrew was a restaurant manager. There were men with military service, a physical therapist, truck drivers and heavy machine operators. Del was the oldest member of our class, graduating at the age of 65. We even had a father and son, the Wittes. Most of us thought we were well prepared, or at least as well prepared as possible for the 4-year adventure we were about to undertake in the theological crucible called Seminary.

Some of you remember my friend, Dr. Allain, who came and talked with us about suicide prevention a few years ago. I once asked her if every psychologist in training thought they had every psychological neurosis in the book. She said, of course – by the time they graduated, they all thought we are crazy as a loon. By the time we graduated Seminary, if there was any doubt before that, it was painfully obvious that our Lord was calling 98 sinners into service in His church. St. Paul claimed he was chief of sinners, but I often wondered if my classmates and I weren’t vying for second place.

That is the miracle in this morning’s Gospel lesson: Jesus calls sinners to be fishers of men. He, who is perfect, holy, without blame or defect, who is God in flesh, who humbled Himself to enter into humanity to become one of us, live among us, die among us, and rise among us, He chooses men so unlike Him to be messengers of the Gospel of peace. He calls lifeguards and house painters, businessmen who write complex business plans and men who can barely write a simple sentence, ex-cops and lawyers, restaurant managers and hay-hauling, fence-post-digging, tire-changing, sons of Lutheran school teachers to be His servants – sinners, all. Men who recognize just how far they --- we --- are from the holiness that God demands. And, God called us.

This is not new – not to the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod, to the Christian Church of North America, or to any branch of Christendom. God calls sinners into service. In this morning’s Gospel lesson, Jesus calls Peter and his partners James and John, the Sons of Thunder, to discipleship, to cast aside their nets and become fishers of men. 

I said that was the miracle of the text, that God calls sinners. Technically, it was the second miracle. The first was when Peter caught so many fish that his boat began to sink. It was mid-day, when fish and fishermen were supposed to be resting. Jesus had used Peter’s boat as a pulpit, preaching to the crowds gathered on the shore, and afterward, told Peter to go out to deeper water and cast the nets again. The last few weeks, we have heard about the power of Jesus’ words. Here, again, Jesus’ powerful word leads Peter to do what seemed a waste of time. “Master” – note the title; not Lord, but Master – “We toiled all night and took nothing, but at your word I will let down the nets.” In an instant, Luke says they were “enclosed” – surrounded - by fish that filled the nets, so much so that the nets began to break and the boats sink.

Miracle of miracles, the Lord of Creation was generous in providential abundance. Daily bread, or, in this case, daily fish, overflowed; First Article gifts abounded. “For all which it is my duty to thank, praise, serve and obey Him,” Luther summarized in his Catechism. There was enough fish to put a fisherman in the black for days if not weeks. O, give thanks to the Lord for He is good!

But not Peter. No, Peter falls on his knees in sheer terror, recognizing his situation, a sinner standing before Jesus. Before, Jesus had been “Master.” Now, Peter knows He is the Lord. “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” Peter knows who is in his boat and he is most unworthy. He heard Jesus rebuke the fever from his mother-in-law; he saw the demons flee at the Word of Jesus. It’s one thing to see the miracles of Jesus. It’s another thing to be the first-hand recipient of them and to suddenly realize just who Jesus really is and that He is standing next to you. Peter’s response is dire and it is sincere: Please, Jesus – go! I am a sinner! I cannot survive your holiness; You cannot abide my sinfulness. I am unworthy of Your very presence. Please: go!

There is a third miracle that takes place in these short verses: Jesus speaks an absolution to Peter. “Do not be afraid.” The miraculous catch physically, materially demonstrates the miraculous love of Jesus for this man standing in front of him. As the Word rebuked the demons and the fever, as the Word commanded Peter to put out to the deep, so also the Word forgives and with forgiveness comes the miracle of making the unworthy sinner fit to stand in the presence of the holy God. This is the miracle of forgiveness. And Jesus, having delivered forgiveness to Peter, calls Peter, then, to proclaim that same miracle of forgiveness as a fisher of men.

There are several wonderous events that happen in this morning’s Gospel reading. What is a greater miracle: that Peter catches fish in the middle of the day – so many that the boat begins to sink; that Jesus calls Peter, an acknowledged sinner who is afraid to be in the Lord’s presence, into discipleship as a fisher of men, or that Jesus declares forgiveness to sinners, such as Peter?

Or, is it that the Lord, through the preaching of sinners like Peter, James and John; of Kyle and Joel, Dale and Phil, and even Jonathan, that the Lord continues to use us to be the fishers of men who, with the net of preaching the Gospel, brings other sinners into the boat of the church.  Jesus, Whose word once drove out demons and fevers, who called men to discipleship as fishers of men, continues to call people into the church with His Word.

The miracle continues: through the preaching and Gospel net-casting of the forgiven men of God who serve the Lord’s Church, some whose pictures hang on the wall in the education building, you were brought into this boat, this nave, this congregation and into the body of Christ. Here, through the Word, the Good News of Jesus Christ, the unworthy are made worthy. Here, sins are forgiven in the name of Jesus. Here, His body and blood are distributed through bread and wine; sins are washed away; Christ is present, calling sinners to receive His gifts.

And, through Christ, we are invited to remain in the presence of the holy God.

Amen.