Jesus is God's Shepherd - John 10: 1-10

“The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Hmmm…that’s interesting, isn’t it? Talk about going above and beyond the call of duty. Put it in our modern perspective for a minute: there is no recruitment ad on Monster.com that tells prospective employees that your job is to die for someone else. That’s a good way to diminish quarterly employment goals in a hurry. Even the legendary General George Patton quipped, your job isn’t do die for your country. It’s to make another soldier die for his! This was true in ancient Israel, too. No one would expect a shepherd to die. To take some necessary risks, yes – after all, the sheep shared the same area as other wilder, bolder, more dangerous animals. It was a dangerous job being done in a dangerous place. Shepherds were called to do what was humanly possible to defend the flock, sure; but to die? No – no, that was not part of the job requirements. For a shepherd to die was not just a tragedy but usually an unnecessary one. An animal is important to a owner, yes; but the life of a shepherd was worth much more.

So, when Jesus speaks and declares that a good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep, that got the attention of his hearers. Sheepherders aren’t supposed to die.  Jesus says He is the opposite – He is going to die, willing to lay down His life for His sheep.

That’s because Jesus is heading into dangerous territory. There are false shepherds pretending to watch over God’s flock but who are more interested in lining their pockets than caring for the straying, the weak and the afraid. There are hired hands that don’t really care at all, and thieves and robbers that are only trying to make a killing, figuratively speaking. Against all these threats to God’s flock, the Good Shepherd stands: I will lay down my life for the sheep. Into this dangerous world, the Good Shepherd enters, surrendering His life for the lives of His own.

While Jesus is using figurative language, almost to the point of making it an extended parable, this danger is no mere figure of speech, the world He enters no mere figment of imagination. It was very real. The false shepherds of the leaders of Israel wanted to get rid of the Good Shepherd who showed everyone just how corrupt they were. The false shepherds stir up the sheep to turn against the only Shepherd who truly loved and cared for them. The false shepherds let a thief sneak into the darkness, selling out the Shepherd for the price of just a few lambs, 30 pieces of silver. All the while Satan’s wolves prowl, hiding behind every rock, wall, and doorway of sinful man’s hearts, waiting to watch the destruction of the Good Shepherd on Good Friday. And when the Good Shepherd was buried in a stranger’s tomb, it appeared that the thieves, the robbers, and the wolves had succeeded.

The Good Shepherd laid down His life so that He could take it up again. Jesus, who is the Door, could not be restrained by the door of the tomb. Jesus, who is the gateway, could not be stopped by a stone stamped and sealed by men. Jesus, who is the Good Shepherd, dies – yes; but more than that, rises to call His sheep follow Him from death through live into His eternal presence.

Here is why, on this the last day of April, half-way through the season of Easter, on the threshold of yet another new month in the year of 2023, as life and death and good news and bad news swirls all around us, here is why these images of Jesus as Good Shepherd and a Good Door are such important and good news today.

We are, in the words of Psalm 23, traveling deeply in the valley of the shadow of death. Turn on the news for five minutes, scroll your favorite news website for five or six clicks, and you will quickly be reminded of just how frail our human wisdom and ability is. I’m reading a book called “God Laughs and Plays.” At first glance, it’s a sarcastic and sardonic view of Christianity, the Christian faith, and the church. But, the more I read, the more I realize that what the author is doing is poking holes in the general attitude that we can replace God.  “God Laughs and Plays.”

Are you surprised that God laughs? One of my devotional readings last week was Psalm 2. Verse 4 of the Psalm reads, "He who sits in the heavens shall laugh; the Lord shall hold them in derision" (v. 4). God has a sense of humor, but His laughter is the kind that is born of His omniscience. It's the laughter of contempt, the laughter of irony. What is God laughing at? Verses 2 and 3 say he's laughing at puny little kings and rulers who have united to shake their fists at His throne and tell Him they don't want Him to rule over them (vv. 2,3). God laughs at them because He knows man cannot survive without submitting to His authority. Man is made in the image of God, and if he fights against Him, he fights against himself. Man, in his rebellion, tries to make God in his own image. He thinks God can be treated with disdain and disobedience. And God laughs.

And, in this crazy, mixed up time where things seem to change by the week, day and sometimes even the hour, it is good to know this: you have a Good Shepherd who calls you by name, and who calls you His own. He knows what it is to enter into that Valley, because He walked the valley pathway Himself. He knows what it is to face the uncertainty that you face, He understands the angst of what lurks in the shadows, He has felt satan’s hot breath of temptation. He knows the agony of suffering and He knows the pain of death of loved ones and the reality of facing His own death. He knows all of these things.

So, you have a Savior who has walked the valley road, Jesus, the Good Shepherd.

We can laugh with the same contempt and mockery of Psalm 2 when we read the headlines or watch TV reports. We see a world in turmoil, a world united against the Lord, but we laugh because we know the voice of the Good Shepherd. Jesus Christ is God’s Shepherd promised to care for His people, and we are the sheep of His pasture and the sheep of His hand. 

You know, “good” is an interesting word. It is a derivative of the Old English word for God. Good, God. Jesus is God's Shepherd. God's Shepherd is your shepherd.

And, as God’s Shepherd, as your Good Shepherd, Jesus walks that journey with you this very day. Even if you know nothing about Shepherds, you know this Shepherd. You know His voice. You heard that voice in your Baptism, you hear that voice speak to you in His Word, you hear that voice say, “This is my body, this is my blood,” and He speaks lovingly, tenderly, and soothingly to you – His beloved sheep. He calls us, even from a distance, He gathers us in our own little folds and vales, and He unites us with His voice so that we do not stray and wander. He enters this landscape, strewn with detritus and debris, and He guides us from today to the day to come. He comes, He calls, he leads.

So, it doesn’t matter if you know what tomorrow brings. Not in the scope of things. What matters is that the Good Shepherd has laid down His life for you. What matters is you have a Shepherd who knows you: Jesus. What matters is the Good Shepherd, God’s Shepherd, knows you by name and you are His. Amen.

 

 

Seeing Jesus Where He Is - Luke 24: 13-35

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is Luke 24: 13-35. 

I have to admit, there are days when I wish I could literally be with Jesus – that He would appear next to me, sit in my office with me, go for a ride with me, sit on the back porch with me, share a peach with me, go for a stroll with me. I wish we could have a conversation together, give-and-take, face-to-face. I have so many things to ask, so many things to say. I wish Jesus was here as I go through this journey of life this side of heaven. “And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own,” right?

In other words, I am envious. I am envious of those two disciples on the road to Emmaus. Could you imagine having Jesus match you, step for step, as you walk and talk together? Could you imagine hearing his voice, seeing his eyes, watching his hands, feeling his touch as his hand touches your skin? 

I’ve lost track of the number of times I have heard Christians - faithful men and women of God - who, in their moments of weakness, struggles, sorrows, and hardship who have said to me, “Pastor, if only Jesus was here right now…” I suspect you have had that thought at least once in your life. And, I admit, I have those days, too. Sometimes those are from things that happen in my vocation as father or husband, sometimes in my vocation as pastor. 

If only He were here, if only He was talking with me, if only He was speaking with me, if only He explained the how, what and why to me as I kept pressing forward. Show me what to do, help me understand, guide me so the Kingdom is glorified. If only He were here, just like he was with those two men on the road to Emmaus. That’s particularly true when life hits hard with uncertainty, with fear, with job worries and family stress and medical struggles, with satan tempting us left, right and center to take our eyes off Jesus. If he were here, it would be so much better.  

So, I admit this to you: I came to Luke 24 pre-loaded with that feeling. How does a preacher preach when all he wants to do is be the third wheel on that journey from Emmaus to Jerusalem? What can I say when all I want to do is shake my Bible at those two slugs and yell, “Don’t you get it? Why can’t you see who this is? You’re looking down at the ground – look up and see the Traveler! You’ve got your head so wrapped up in the events of the weekend that you’re missing The Event of all time! You’re so focused on the Friday death and the Saturday of rest that you are missing the joy of the resurrection! You’re trusting your eyes so much that you’re not trusting the promises Jesus gave you! How can you miss this?

Then, as I read the text again, I discovered this sentence: “their eyes were kept from recognizing [Jesus].” Their eyes were kept from seeing Jesus? Why? Why would they be kept from recognizing Jesus? After all, they were some of His disciples - no among the 12, but part of the larger group of people who followed Jesus. Certainly they should have known, they should have recognized Him. Why could they not know who He was?

It’s been said that when a person loses one sense, the others become more heightened to help compensate. A person who loses the sense of sight, for example, learns to listen more intently to those sounds that are all around. Conversely, a person who loses hearing learns to watch more closely to not miss what their ears can no longer hear. 

How could they not see and recognize Him? The answer is that for three years, their eyes had been deceiving them. They as much as said so: they thought Jesus was going to redeem Israel - not from their sins, but from the Romans. They saw a man who seemed to be in the line of the prophets of old, a powerful teacher who could put the corrupt leaders to shame. They saw a man who was so filled with promise and purpose. He had so much power that He could feed thousands, cast out demons, calm storms, make coins appear in the mouths of fish, and raise the dead. Surely, He would put Israel back on the map in the line of David and Solomon. Their eyes were deceiving them. So, Jesus took their eyes away - figuratively speaking, that is - so that they couldn’t see Him and recognize Him.

If they did, what might they have seen? If they were impressed before, they would have been flabbergasted. If they thought a crowd-feeding, authority challenging, sick-healing, and death defying was remarkable, one who himself died, only to rise, would be off-the-charts. No, Jesus needed them to see who He was, that His purpose was much more than a divine rebel and a social reconstructionist. 

With their vision interrupted, He opened their ears and He opened their hearts and, more than that, He opened the Scriptures and He taught them. From age to age, from Moses through Psalms, from the judges through the prophets, Jesus expounded the promises of Messiah to come. To have been a fly riding along on their shoulders! What a Bible class that must have been, hearing Jesus explain it all and weave Himself into those those ancient pages of Israel’s history. 

An early church father - I think it may have been St. Jerome, but I can’t recall - once said something like “You can cut the pages of Scripture at any point and the pages will bleed Jesus.” Jesus helped these disciples see He was more than they thought: He was the promised Messiah.  He may have identified Himself as the Good Shepherd of Psalm 23, but also the good shepherd promised in Ezekiel 34. He might have connected the great sacrifices of the Temple with Himself as the sacrifice for the sins of the world. Perhaps he reminded them of the Passover lambs that had been killed only a few days earlier in rememberance of the great Exodus narrative and identified Himself as the Lamb of God. Maybe He helped them see how He was the fulfillment of Isaiah’s suffering servant. Page after page, narrative after narrative, Jesus helped them understand that both in the Scriptures and at the cross He bled for them. 

Jesus hid in plain sight so that they could see Him for who He really is: the Savior, their Savior, the world’s Savior. 

So, where do you seek Jesus? Do you seek Him walking and talking with you, strolling through life? Another question, what kind of Jesus do you seek? A force field to keep the boogie man at bay, a mystic to calm all of your worries, a super-physician to keep you from getting sick with anything more than a cold, a financial whiz to keep the bank accounts in the black and growing, and a counselor to keep the family happier than the Brady Bunch, the Huxtables, and the Baxters?  Or, do you seek a Redeemer to rescue you from the fallen world in which we live? Do you seek a Savior points you to His empty cross as you live under the cross? Do you seek a Savior whose love for you is so great that He died for you, so that there is hope even in the midst of these grey and latter days? Where do you find such a Savior? Where is such a Man found? Not inside ourselves, not where we might imagine to find Him, not in mystical and supernatural places. We find Him where He has promised to be: in His Word, where His Word is preached, where His gifts are distributed in Water, Bread and Wine, where the faithful gather to speak peace to one another in His name. He’s not hiding. There is no need to search. He is here, as He promised.

Did you notice that only one of the two disciples had a name? The other traveler is nameless. I want you to do something: I want you to close your eyes for a second. Get the picture of the two traveling alongside Jesus. Look closely at the one on the left; his name is Cleopas, Luke says. Look closely at his face: see his stern look, deep eyes, dark complexion and beard? Now, watch his face slowly lighten as Jesus speaks. Do you see his brow lifting, his frown becoming a smile, edging into a grin, his eyes brightening, his shoulders straightening? His spirit is lifting as slowly, his heart begins to understand. Now, look at the other traveler. Look closely...what does that disciple look like? Look more closely...who do you see? 

See yourself in the face of the other, unnamed disciple. And, do you see who is there with you? Jesus. You journey with Jesus, in your Baptism, from cross and tomb to life. More than that, Jesus journeys with you, from font to resurrection and all steps in between.  You know Jesus, not from what you have seen with your eyes but with spirit-given faith. You see Jesus, not as a failed messianic pariah who didn’t meet expectations but as God who took on flesh to dwell among us to take our place. You see Jesus, not as a social hero for the helpless but as the champion who rescues the world. You see Jesus not as one who came out on the losing end of a political but as one who surrendered to sinful men so He could fulfill His Father’s plan of salvation. 

You see Jesus, your Savior who died, whose, and who restored you to the Father. 

So, if you wish you could see Jesus, if you wish He could walk next to you, if you wish He would reach out to touch you and tell you all is well, look no further than your own Bible. Open the Scriptures and begin to read. And as you read, Jesus Himself - who is the Word, made flesh - will fill the very pages you read. His blood will flow in the words you read and His salvation will be delivered to you: forgiveness, life, salvation overflowing for you. 

Three Easter Gifts - Peace, Wounds Forgiveness: John 20: 19-31

Jesus, risen from the dead, appears to fearful disciples behind locked doors . The disciples were afraid. Who wouldn’t be? You would; I would too. The Jewish leaders crucified their Teacher and Friend. Surely they would be next. Sure: they’d heard the news from Mary Magdalene who had seen Jesus, touched Him, heard Him. He is risen! Peter and John had investigated the tomb. Nothing there. The grave clothes were folded neatly, the head covering off to the side. Everything was in order. Clearly not the work of grave robbers. 

Yet and still, the disciples are locked up in this little room, afraid. 

Death is conquered. Jesus is risen. 

But still they are afraid. 

They knew about the resurrection of Jesus, but they hadn’t yet seen, heard, and touched Him. That makes all the difference in the world. Dead men don’t rise, ordinarily. We know that. They knew that too. They weren’t ignorant. The news seemed too good to be true.

Then Jesus appeared. No standing at the door and knocking Jesus. Who would have answered? He simply appears, as though He were there all along though not seen, as He is with us, here and now. Can’t see Him, but He’s present, in that little room and in this one, and wherever two or three are gathered in His Name.

He comes and stands among them, HIs little church of disciples. He blesses them: Peace be with you. Words that flow from His resurrected lips to their ears, giving what they say, “Peace.” Shalom. Wholeness. Everything as it ought to be. This is the first gift of the resurrection – Peace. It is a peace that comes only from Jesus, from Him who died and rose again. Only by way of death and resurrection can we have this peace, a peace that surpasses all our understanding. “Peace I leave with you, my peace a give to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.”

With His words come also His wounds, the nail holes in His hands and feet, the spear wound in His side. Why the wounds? They mark Him as the crucified One. Had jesus appeared without wounds, we might doubt we have the right Jesus. Is it really Jesus? Or perhaps his stunt double? The wounds mark Him for certain. That’s what Thomas wanted to see. “Unless I see in His hands the mark of the nails and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into His side, I will never believe.” Pretty strong statement, but then, dead men don’t ordinarily rise, so who could blame him? I’d want to see the marks too.

Jesus’ wounds are more than proof that He’s actually risen, they are the source of the peace Jesus spoke. Jesus’ peace is not some hollow, religious wish, but peace with God who has reconciled the world to Himself in the death of His Son. From those wounds come our forgiveness, our life, our salvation. “He was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed.”

His wounds denote the sacrifice. Here is the redemption price, the price of our freedom and forgiveness. He is the sacrificial Lamb, offered up for the sins of the world, For your sins.

Our sin is what keeps us locked up in fear. We’re afraid to talk about them, afraid to confess them, afraid to look at them in the mirror of the law. We’ve learned to cover them up under piles of excuses, self-sacrifices, religion, etc. We cover our sins under our “Sunday best,” an old trick learned from Adam and Eve who hid from God’s judgment behind self-stitched fig leaves. That’s sounds a bit silly, and it’s supposed to, because hiding from God behind anything you’ve done is utterly ridiculous and futile.

The wounds are the key. Remember what flowed from Jesus’ wounded side on the cross? Water and blood – a testimony that He was truly dead. And also a sacramental sign, that from His death flow the water to the font of your Baptism and the blood to the chalice that touches your lips. Water and Blood, Baptism and Supper, together with the Spirit these three testify to Jesus’ death for you.

Again Jesus says it. “Peace be with you.” Wouldn’t once have been enough? Not for faith. Faith never hears enough of Jesus. He is sent by the Father as the Father’s apostle, and now He sends them out of their little, locked up room into the big wide world for which He died. How will they manage, this group of fearful disciples locked up in a little room? What will propel them out the door into the world? Jesus’ breath and His words. That is the second gift of Easter- Jesus’ breath and His words. “He breathed on them.”

His breath is the Spirit which delivers His Word. “Receive the Holy Spirit.” This is the breath of the Church that speaks the Word of Christ. You know how it is when you are out of breath. You’ve been running hard or bicycling up a hill. You can’t talk. You can barely get the words out. Words are pushed by air, breath. The Church’s breath is not her own but Christ’s, the wind of God that blows from the mouth of risen Jesus. He resuscitates His fearful disciples with the air of freedom and life. He breathes upon His Church as He did here, and as He did in a big way at Pentecost. This one is a little Pentecost, for His disciples, the eyewitnesses of His resurrection. Fifty days later, Jesus would breath out again over His church, this time bringing 3000 people to Baptism where they too received the Holy Spirit.

In the beginning, the Spirit of God blew over the waters of creation and God spoke the creative Word that brings light and life. In your Baptism the Spirit of God blew over the waters of baptism, and God spoke His Word to you, joining you to Christ in His death, burial, and life. Baptism is Jesus’ breathing on you, bestowing His Spirit, raising you up from your death and sin. Just as God breathed life into Adam’s lifeless clay, so Jesus’ breaths life into His disciples and you too, in your Baptism.

“If you forgive the sins of anyone, they are forgiven.” Jesus’ words and breath deliver forgiveness. This is the third gift of Easter – forgiveness. You don’t have to search for forgiveness from God. You don’t have to look to heaven, or in your heart. Look for the mouth and listen with your ears. Forgiveness is something spoken and heard. In the liturgy of personal confession, the pastor asks, “Do you believe that my forgiveness is God’s forgiveness?” My forgiveness is not going to do you a bit of eternal good. It may make peace between us, but not between you and God. Only God’s forgiveness can do that. It comes to you from Christ through His Church. The Church, as Luther once put it, is a mouth house of forgiveness. Forgiveness is spoken here, and where forgiveness, there also life and salvation.

Forgiveness is both won and received. On the cross it was won, once for all. In the hearing, it is received through faith. It is “for you.” This is why Jesus died – that you might hear forgiveness of your sins. What a gift that is! You can be certain, as sure as the voice speaking to, as though Christ were there speaking to you. It is as certain as Jesus’ word that does what it says.

The opposite is also true. “If you withhold forgiveness, it is withheld.” Forgiveness is a gift freely given by grace and freely received through faith in Jesus. But there is no neutral, middle ground between forgiveness and unforgiveness, as there is no middle ground between faith and unbelief. God forces no one to be forgiven. Refuse it in unrepentant unbelief, and forgiveness is withheld. But don’t blame God for that. He wants to forgive. He sent His Son to forgive. He baptized you to be forgiven.

This is as good a time as any for a little refresher from the catechism. What do we believe according to these words? “We believe that when the called ministers of Christ deal with us by His divine command, in particular when they exclude openly unrepentant sinner from the Christian congregation and absolve those who repent of their sins and want to do better, this is just as valid and certain, even in heaven, as if Christ our dear Lord dealt with us Himself.”

So forgiveness is not something floating about in the air, or some spiritual gas that infuses into you by some kind of osmosis. It is a concrete, real, earthy thing. Words going from a mouth to an ear by the breath and words of the Son of God who gave His life and rose again that we might hear the forgiveness of all of our sins and live in the confident freedom of God’s baptized children.

When Thomas finally got his chance to see Jesus in the flesh, to see those wounds of His crucifixion, he had nothing more to say than “My Lord and my God.” That’s a confession, not an exclamation. He believes. He trusts Jesus. The wounds show Jesus to be what He is for Thomas and for each of you hear today. Your Lord and your God who has saved you by dying and rising and who forgives you.

Blessed are those who have not seen and yet, having heard, believe.
And believing, you have life in His Name.

In the name of Jesus, Amen

 

Unusual Resurrection Witnesses - Matthew 28: 1-10

Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! Alleluia!

Angels are a particular, specific piece of creation. Angels are not “created” when a person dies, regardless of what the movies say. Angels are angels and people are people, both in life and in death, as unique from each other as cats and catfish. While angels are somewhat mysterious, their very name tells us much about them. Angel means “messenger.” That is their primary duty: they serve as heavenly messengers to deliver a specific message from God to people. Sometimes it’s a word of warning, sometimes it’s a word of blessing, sometimes it’s a word of encouragement. Perhaps the most famous angelic appearances center around the Nativity, when an unnamed angel appears to Zechariah, foretelling the birth of John, when Gabriel appears to Mary, proclaiming the birth of Jesus, and then the angels that spoke to the shepherds on the Bethlehem hillside about the birth of Jesus, finally joined by an angelic choir breaking into song, “Glory to God in the highest, and peace to His people on earth.” 

Angels appear in some of the most unique and powerful narratives that we find in the Bible, both Old and New Testament, but I submit that no angelic moment is more powerful that the first Easter morning, the day Christ rose from the grave and an angel appeared, God-sent to be the first messenger of Jesus’ resurrection.

St. Matthew tells us that this angel was welcomed with an earthquake. Perhaps creation itself was welcoming the heavenly messenger; perhaps creation was rejoicing that the Word made flesh, through whom everything was made that was made, the Word was again living and active. The darkness is gone; the Light is come. Regardless the reason why the earthquake, we know the angel had a specific task before he could deliver a message. He was to roll away the stone. Don’t misunderstand this. The angel wasn’t there to free Jesus from the grave, as though Jesus needed an angelic strong-man to escape His tomb-prison. The angel rolled the stone away so Mary Magdaline, and the other Mary (probably the mother of James and John, since she was also mentioned as having followed along when Jesus was taken to be buried), and the guards (when they woke up), and James and John, and you and me and every other person, believing or not believing, could see and know that He was not there. Then, and only then, would the angel become the messenger of the news that Jesus was alive, risen, as He said.

“As He said.” That’s what a messenger does. He delivers what has been told to him. If you had to summarize this early, angelic Easter sermon, it would be with those three words. In saying this, the angel defers to Jesus Himself. It’s as if the angel was saying, “Listen! You don’t have to believe me. Believe Him – the same one who called Lazarus from the grave, who declared Himself to be the resurrection and the life, who said He must go to Jerusalem and be delivered into the hands of men, and that they would kill him, and then promised that He would die and three days later be raised. Believe His Word, His promises. They are trustworthy and true. And, if you don’t believe me, if you don’t believe His own words, then look – see for yourself. He isn’t here. He has risen as He said.”

It is no small thing that this takes place very early on the first day of the week. Matthew calls it the day after Sabbath. We would call it Sunday. Sunday is when creation began in Genesis; it came to completion on Sabbath, what we call Saturday, and on that 7^th day, God rested. With the resurrection, when else would you expect a new creation to begin, a new heaven and a new earth to be opened, the dawning of a new life in Christ but at the beginning of a new week? The old week, the old creation, the old adam is completely redeemed and reconciled through the blood of Jesus. “It is finished,” remember? He didn’t mean His life; Jesus meant God’s plan of salvation. Jesus’ life for the lives of the world; Jesus’ death substituting for the eternal death of all mankind; Jesus’ holiness in exchange for the sins of the world. All of it: “it is finished.” And on the 7^th day, Christ rested in the tomb from His work of redemption. As is the week, as is God’s plan of salvation. Resurrection Day begins a new week; it’s the dawning of a new creation, an 8th day of creation, if you will. Resurrection ushers in a new beginning; it gives new life. He who was dead is alive. He who was buried is raised. He who was restrained cannot be contained any longer – not by creation, not by a stone, not by a grave, not by death. He has risen!

This heavenly messenger gets our attention. Easy to understand why – after all, his appearance was like lightening and his clothes shone like snow. Our imagination fills in the blanks left by the words of the text. But don’t overlook another and different kind of messenger on that first Easter. Here is an Easter riddle for you: this messenger has a mouth, but it remains silent; it proclaims the Resurrection, speaking without words. What is it? It’s the tomb, the place where Jesus was laid to rest three days earlier with a stone stamped with Pilate’s mark and a guard posted to prevent anyone from stealing Jesus’ body. The tomb was silent Friday, Saturday, and into Sunday, a soundless witness to Jesus’ vicarious death. But early in the morning, with the stone rolled from its mouth, the grave began proclaiming, an inanimate messenger of the resurrection with its mouth open wide, declaring clearly and loudly that Jesus is risen.  

The reason the empty grave is such a powerful witness is this: the empty grave is evidence that God the Father accepted His Son’s atoning payment for the sins of the world. Had the grave been left closed, we would have been left wondering, is it really finished? Is there something left for me to do? Or is faith in the resurrection nothing but a waste of hope? Had the grave remained sealed, the question would have remained, “Was Jesus really God-in-flesh, Emmanuel, the Savior-Messiah, or was He merely an imposter, a liar among liars?” The open grave answers all such questions. It speaks and shows clearly that “it is finished.” Sin, conquered. Death, destroyed. The grave, now but a temporary place for a seventh-day rest for all of God’s people through faith in Christ Jesus.

The Easter angel and the empty tomb continue to speak to us this resurrection morning, showing us and telling us that the message is true and the promises of God, enwrapped in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, are true. “It is finished!” Christ is risen, as He said, and He has gone before us.

On Easter day, it is easy to get caught up in the romance of the day and forget that simple promise: He has gone before us. Now, in the context of the reading, the angel means that Jesus has gone to Galilee and the disciples will find Him there. Before His ascension, He will appear to the twelve disciples and hundreds more as eye-witness proof of the resurrection, demonstrating the angel and the grave were telling the truth. But, for us in the 21^st century, “He has gone before us,” carries a second meaning. These words stand as a promise that we too, when Christ returns, will have our own resurrection day into eternity. On the day of the great resurrection, when the trumpets sound, the dead in Christ will be raised, whole and holy, entering into the new heavens and the new earth, the fulfillment of the new creation that we experience now, but dimly.

Years ago, a preacher began his Easter message with the usual proclamation, “Christ is risen.” The congregation responded, “He is risen, indeed! Alleluia” Then, he added this phrase: “We are risen. We are risen, indeed! Alleluia!” It was his way of reminding us that the promise of the resurrection is ours, now, already, not just some day. That’s what it means, that our lives are hidden in Christ, that our resurrections are hidden in His, as well. So today, as you go about your day, with family meals and friendly get togethers, when someone welcomes you with the greeting “Christ is risen, He is risen indeed,” reply back with “We are risen, we are risen, indeed,” also.

And when you do, you are a modern-day angel, proclaiming what was proclaimed on the first Easter, saying what was spoken by the angel and the grave: Christ is risen, as He said, and in Him, we are risen, too.

Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! Alleluia!

We are risen! We are risen, indeed! Alleluia!

 

We Want to See Jesus, Too! - John 12: 20-36

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

“Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” Those of us who preach have often seen those words carved into the wood of a pulpit or onto a brass plaque placed into it. The first time I saw it was on my internship year, at Trinity Lutheran church in Cape Girardeau, Missouri. As he was giving me the tour of the building, Pastor Dissen deliberately showed me those words, the implication being, “Remember, Vicar, that’s the whole reason you stand in this place on a Sunday.” The arrogance I felt that day has long been replaced with the wonder, the awe, and a bit of fear as I stand to proclaim the word of the Lord to show Jesus to those who gather to hear.

“Sir, we wish to see Jesus.” These were Greeks, Gentiles, non-Jews who first said these words. They probably said it in Greek, “κύριε, θέλομεν τὸν Ἰησοῦν ἰδεῖν.” They said this to Philip, the disciple with the Greek name, who had grown up in the area of Bethsaida known for its mixed population of both Jews and Greeks. Perhaps they didn’t speak Arabic or Hebrew and needed a Greek speaker to help them. Perhaps they just hoped for someone with a common background who would be sympathetic to a non-Jew. Likewise, we don’t know if they were Jewish converts, Greek businessmen, curious onlookers who got caught up in the excitement of the morning’s Palm Sunday processional. Whomever they were, whatever their reason, they sought an audience with Jesus.

That was not unique that day. The stories were flying fast and furious, how Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead. When you go home today, read John 11 and 12. The Triumphal Entry is practically a footnote compared to the narrative surrounding Lazarus. In fact, John specifically stated that the reason so many were at the city gates to welcome Jesus when He arrived into Jerusalem was the fact that they heard Jesus had raised Lazarus from the dead.  But, Lazarus’ resurrection also was fuel for the fires of jealousy and hatred for the Jewish leaders. Lazarus’ resurrection caused the Chief Priest to assemble the Council and the Pharisees and report, “This man performs many signs. If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and our nation.” They soon gave orders that if Jesus was found, He was to be arrested. In fact, Lazarus’ resurrection was so troubling that they also made plans to murder him so there could be no evidence that he was ever raised.

Back to the Greeks. They make their request to Philip, who in turn grabs his brother Andrew. John does not record that conversation when they come to Jesus, but I can imagine how it might have gone: “Hey, Lord – check this out! Such a glorious welcome to the city. The Jews are calling out to you like they did for David centuries earlier, and now these Greeks want to see you, too!” Glory will do that to you. All the pomp and circumstance, the road being paved with branches and coats, the crowds shouting “Hosannah,” and correctly identifying Jesus as the Son of David. I could easily imagine the disciples walking along, slightly behind Jesus on the donkey, soaking it in with their chins high and chests thrust out. They’re riding the glory train and can’t wait to see what’s ahead.

But, here, something strange happens. First, there is no indication that Jesus paid attention to the two disciple-brothers or addressed the audience-seeking Greeks. Instead, we get this statement that is the second half of verse 36, “When Jesus had said these things [see v. 35 & 36a], He departed and hid Himself from them.” Jesus deliberately hid Himself from the Greeks and, in fact, every other person, Jew or Gentile, who sought him. When you get done reading chapters 11 and 12, if you keep skimming the rest of John’s Gospel, you’ll notice Jesus remains in hiding, refusing to appear in public, until His arrest in the Garden of Gethesmane.

So, why would Jesus hide?

We get a clue when Philip and Andrew bring the Greeks to Jesus. Jesus says, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified,” and then uses a short parable about how a grain of wheat must die to bring forth fruit of harvest. He’s speaking about His own death. He must be glorified in His death. In John’s Gospel, the very first miracle Jesus does is at Cana, changing water to wine. When His mother approaches Him with the request to help, He replies that it is not His hour, yet He performs an incredible miracle. John notes that in this, the first of His signs, He “manifested His glory.” Now, in chapter 12, His hour has come and His glory is soon to be evident to all.

Think about that word glory, for a moment. It means grandeur, dignity, honor, majesty. We connect it with elected representatives, star athletes, famous actors, or with winning awards, big games, or doing something extraordinary.  We often use it as an adjective, as in “That was a glorious catch,” or “What a glorious song.” In this way, it’s a synonym for excellent, powerful, or remarkable, triumphant moment. It’s used that way in the Bible, too, for both people and for God. Probably the easiest example is at Jesus birth when the angels sang, “Glory to God in the highest and peace to His people on earth.” For the crowds, they wanted to see Jesus’ glory in more work like raising Lazarus. For the disciples, they wanted to bask in Jesus glory that Palm Sunday day.

For Jesus, however, His glory will be found elsewhere besides performing miraculous signs, or leading a socio-political uprising, or entering the city to the shouts of the crowds, or even strangers thronging for a few moments of meet & greet. His glory will be found in His Passion, His crucifixion, His death. This is the very purpose for which He came to this hour. The suffering will be terrible. His soul was already in turmoil. Battle must be waged against the ruler of the world, satan himself. The Light of the world will be snuffed out and the darkness will seem to overwhelm it. And those who sought to follow and bask in His glory will all scatter and hide, even the oft-bold Peter who runs away from a servant girl, Phillip and Andrew who brought the Greeks to Jesus, and John, the disciple whom Jesus loved.

His glory is far from what the world would seek, desire, or expect. But His glory leads to the cross. Jesus said, “When I am lifted up, I will draw all people to myself.” Some people mistake this, thinking too much of our idea of glory, that “lifted up” means resurrection. No. He was speaking of the cross. When He is nailed to its rough beams and suspended between heaven and earth, ignored by His own Father, people will be drawn to Him. Some will come out of idle curiosity, wanting to see what the fuss was all about. Others will come out of spite and sheer disbelief, like the Pharisees who sneered at Him, mocking Him to save Himself.

But others will be drawn, in faith, with the same words of the Greeks. So, to our request, it’s as if Jesus answers “Come see me at the cross. See Me on Good Friday, God’s Friday. You’ll know me when you see me. I’m the One who dies for you. It will be ugly and uncomfortable, but it will be done in love, surrendering my life for you. I will die for you. I will be abandoned for you so you are never separated from the love of God. I will rescue you in my death and rescue you from the grave. ” We want to see Jesus on the cross, for it is there He dies for me. He dies for my sins. He dies abandoned and alone, so I am never separated from the love of God. He dies to redeem and rescue me. He dies so I don’t die eternally.  And through His being lifted up, He promises the day will come when we, too, will be lifted up, along with all the saints of God, in our own resurrection.

Until then, if you want to see Jesus, don’t go looking for Him in glorious places. You won’t find Him in parades or in palaces, in so-called miraculous moments or emotion-whipped frenzy. Remember, for Jesus, glory is inverse of what we expect. You will find Him in beautiful sanctuaries and in humble chapels, in nursing homes and living rooms, in prison cells and in shelters where His Word is opened and read and taught in faith, trusting that the Word made flesh is present in that very Word that is shared. You will find Him present as both the host and the meal as a very humble piece of bread and meager sip of wine is given to you under Christ’s promise that it is also His Body and Blood, given and shed for you. You will find Him when water is poured and splashed over a squirming child or a beaming adult in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. You find Him present where He promises to be: in Word and Sacrament for you.

Havert was a kind, old man but old age and dementia were slowly robbing him of his memories. His daughter would tell me every week how her visits with him were digressing, what he couldn’t remember, what he couldn’t recall.  I would do the same with her, letting her know if he recognized me, or if he repeated the same thing over and over. When I would visit, I would bring my communion kit, prepared to offer the Lord’s Supper if he showed even a basic understanding of what it meant. St. Paul says we must be able to discern what we eat and drink, meaning, that we are sinners who receive Christ’s Body and Blood for the forgiveness of those very sins. I don’t think I’ll ever forget one afternoon, as we sat in the lobby by ourselves, I brought the conversation to the Supper and talked about what it is. Finally, I said, “Havert, what is this?” Without missing a beat, he looked at me and said so loudly and clearly that it almost scared me: “It’s Jesus.”

Come and eat. Come and see Jesus. He is here.

Amen.