The Life of Discipleship: Mercy In - Mercy Out! Luke 6: 28-36

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. That would be the Old Testament lesson from Genesis. 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. I had a conversation with a person the other Sunday and I was asked how do people perceive us as Missouri Synod Lutherans. I’ve heard it said that people sometimes accuse Lutherans of having faith that is too much head or too much heart and not enough hands. One of the harshest comments I have every heard is we are the “frozen chosen.” I felt slightly vindicated when I googled the phrase and saw it applied across denominational lines, not just to Lutherans.  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. There is an old saying in academia: repititio est mater estudiorum – repetition is the mother of learning. So, mercy is repeated from God to us. Having repeatedly been mercied, that is, been given mercy, we share mercy to others. Filled with mercy; overflowing with mercy. Mercy in, mercy out.

Sociologists tell us that Americans are becoming more and more polarized, not only politically but socially. You know that; it’s no surprise. What’s sadly interesting, though, is that these polarizations are impacting our lives, across the board – not just with ideas, and not just social media, but in where we work, play, and even shop. 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. You know what one of the most well-received non-food or beverage Super Bowl commercials was? The “He gets us,” campaign.

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. Backwards, at best; unfair and unjust at the worst. Our conventional wisdom says you should defend yourself, claim your rights, guard your possessions, and repay evil with evil. Fight dirty. Do unto others before they do it unto you. And if they do it to you first, then get even plus one. 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 flowing from His side, to the Font. 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 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: 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 or a young woman can grow and change and even repent of earlier actions. Society’s answer to sin is cancelation. Not forgiveness. And certainly not restoration.

In a cancel culture, the supposed cure, cancellation, actually kills. Cancellation purifies by exclusion. It sanctifies by silencing. And soon our streets will be filled with people who don't matter. If all our dirty laundry were aired, who among us isn’t deserving of cancellation?

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.

No Doubts in the Resurrection! - 1 Corinthians 15: 1-20

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

I want you to know that as a Christian, as a baptized child of God, the resurrection of Jesus impacts you in ways you probably don’t even realize.

Author Paul Maier – no relation – wrote a novel, a fictional account, of a Christian archaeologist who discovered bones while digging in Israel. That, in and of itself, was not that big of a surprise – bones are all over in that part of the world – but the other things discovered with the bones were earth-shattering. In the grave with the skeleton was evidence that the bones, in fact, belonged to Jesus. Realizing how devastating this could be to Christians and, in fact, the entire history of the world, the team of scientists conducted multiple studies that all seemed to support the likelihood that this was, in fact, Jesus of Nazareth. A piece of a manuscript is found, saying that Jesus died and, when he didn’t rise from the dead on the third day, the disciples squirreled his body away to perpetuate the lie. Suddenly, the ending of Mark 16, “and they were very afraid,” took on a new meaning.

Again, this is a work of fiction, but play “what if” for a moment – what if that was, in fact, the truth? What if that all happened and, suddenly, every news station, website, and podcast declared Jesus to be a liar. By extension, then, everything that the Church had proclaimed for 2000 years was a lie and every Christian sermon was a perpetuation of the lie, every Christian pastor nothing but a con man who had himself been conned, and every Christian was nothing more than a rube that fell for the worst and greatest fable ever concocted: God became flesh to die and rise from the dead for the sins of the world. In the novel, Easter comes, and churches were nearly empty. The Easter declaration, “Christ is risen!” was met with question marks instead of exclamation points – people didn’t know what to say. Joy and hope – the Christian hope, the Christian confidence – were left behind like flotsam and jetsam bobbing on the sea of uncertainty.

What if that were true? What would you do? What would you believe? Don’t be too quick to assume you would stand fast. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the Bible says, and the evidence of things not seen, remember? If faith in the unseen, resurrected Christ is suddenly left shaking because of the seen, buried body of the one who seems to be Jesus, I suspect many of us – and, yes, I say “us,” me included – might be sorely tempted to surrender the faith for what seems to be fait accompli. How would that impact your life? The resurrection would suddenly be meaningless. Even Christ’s death as a redemptive and atoning sacrifice for the sins of the world would be called into question. Am I forgiven child of God? For that matter, am I even a child of God? What of my baptism? You see the dominoes start to fall – was Jesus the sinless Son of God? Were any of His words true? What can we trust? Were His promises of a three-day resurrection, the sign of Jonah, the rebuilding of the Temple just pep talks for the disciples?

Paul began chapter 15 with this statement: “For I delivered to you as first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures…”  Of first importance – everything else is secondary to this redemptive act of Jesus. The Church confesses it in our creeds: crucified, died, buried, raised – in that order. That is what drove Paul to preach and teach, so that others might also believe and also be saved through Christ Jesus.

These young Corinthian Christians, still wrestling with what it is to be a child of God in a heathen culture, to receive His Word and to live according to it, must have been questioning the truth or the necessity of believing the death and resurrection of Jesus for Paul to have addressed it so powerfully and thoroughly.

You know what “if-then” statements are. We use them all the time. You tell your kids and grandkids, “If you have cookies after school, then you don’t get dessert tonight.” You tell your spouse, “If you remember to take your vitamins, then you’ll feel better.” Your kids ask you, “If I clean my room, then I can go to the movies?” If this, then that.

Paul uses this a rhetorical device to show how the resurrection is no mere myth, a figment of their congregational imagination. He begins with the simple absolute about resurrection in general: there must be a resurrection, because if there was no such thing, then it would be impossible for Jesus to have been raised. And, if Christ was not raised, then our preaching of the resurrection was a waste of our time and your faith, grounded in the preaching of the resurrected Christ, was also a waste. This is so paramount, so important, that he repeats it. If there is no resurrection of the dead, then the crucified Lord isn’t raised either, and if He isn’t raised, then we are still trapped in our sins. And, if all that is true, then all who die, die into eternity. If the only reason for believing in the resurrection is to fill the life with some kind of hollow hope, a nebulous “maybe,” a holy “who know’s,” then, Paul says, we are to be the most pitied because we wasted time, energy, and in fact our very lives in pursuit of the proclamation of the resurrected Jesus who didn’t rise.

I cannot count the number of times I have been with a family or with friends at a funeral home or at the graveside when I heard someone say something like this: I do not understand how people can get through this without the hope we have in Jesus of the resurrection. For the Corinthians, that is what they were facing if the resurrection was not true.

But! Paul interjects a powerful contradiction, breaking the if-then pattern. If this, then that, but now! The whole predicated argument about if there is no resurrection is cast aside as Paul begins the affirmative argument.

But, in fact – notice, no “if” - Christ has been raised from the dead, Paul says. How can he be so sure? He was one of the last eyewitnesses of the resurrected and glorified Christ on the road to Damascus. He had intended to hunt and persecute Christians; instead, Jesus called Paul into apostolic ministry. An eyewitness to Jesus, Paul’s preaching has authority.

Jesus is the firstruits, Paul says. Firstfruits are exactly that – the very first fruit that is produced in the spring. Firstfruits are anticipated, yearned for, longed for. It means the winter season of death-like rest is over and new life begins. And, where there are firstfruits, there is more to come. Because Jesus is the firstfruits, because He rose first, the promise extends to those who come after. The death-rest of the tomb is now but a brief time while the Christian rests from his or her labors, awaiting their own resurrection moment.

But what of the forgiveness of sins? Paul speaks to that as well. The fruit image hangs rich in Paul’s words. Adam and Eve’s forbidden bite of fruit from the Tree in the Garden. Through one man came death and sin, Paul says, continuing to pass down generation to generation. We call this “original sin,” inborn sin, concupiscence if you want the ten dollar theological word for the week. You cannot undo it; you cannot cleanse yourself from it; you cannot out-good the sin that is within you. People get this confused, thinking people are good until they sin, that suddenly by sinning they become a sinner. Nope. The opposite is true. WE are sinful from birth. We sin because we are sinners. And, because the wages of sin is death, death awaits all who sin. That’s what it means when Paul says sin and death came through one man. It’s the terrible consequence that befalls all mankind for the failure to obey God’s Garden command.

But in Christ, this is no longer the end, for the Son of God and the Son of Man, having been raised, has also conquered death and the grave. One man brought death; this Man – who is God in flesh – this Man brought life and in Him, through Him, all who believe in Him shall have life eternal: Christ the firstfruits, then all others who have fallen asleep in Him.

This is our Christian life: you are already alive in Christ. You died with Him in your baptism; you were raised with Him in your baptism. Your old adam and old eve, that is the sinful nature within you, drowned. Satan’s grasp over you and death’s hold over you have been destroyed. When Christ rose, satan was crushed; when his grave opened, death lost its terrible power.

Yes, death is still scary. It’s OK for the Christian to say that. After all, none of us have done it before. But we do not need to fear the grave because Christ is the firstfuit, remember? He opened the grave so that yours, too, will be opened.

This, then, frees your everyday life to live in the joy and certitude of the resurrection.  There are no “what ifs.” The what ifs – what if my sins aren’t forgiven, what if Jesus didn’t rise, what if I am not good enough, what if I am not sorry enough, what if I die mid-sin, all the what-ifs satan throws at you to tempt you to take your eyes off of the resurrection – all what-ifs are silenced in the resurrection of Jesus from the grave. Every day, then, is resurrection day. We might only celebrate Easter on the first Sunday after the first full moon after the first day of spring – and, yes, that is the literal formula to determine where Easter falls on the calendar – but every day is resurrection day because you are already and always risen through Christ your Lord.

In this morning’s Gospel reading, Jesus offered four blessings. They seem quite backwards, don’t they? Blessed are the poor, the hungry, the weeping, and the hated. Even if those are your place, now, you are already blessed. Remember: God’s Word delivers exactly what it says. You live that right now; you are blessed because Christ was poor and hungry, He wept and was hated for you. The culmination, the consummation of those blessings will be realized in the resurrection. But the gifts are yours, now, because of the power of the resurrection.

In a moment you’ll say it again: I look for – I yearn for, I trust in, I believe in, - the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Not just today, in this place, but every day, looking for resurrection to come. Amen.

Jesus Helps Us In Our Temptations - Hebrews 2: 14-18

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen “For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.”

There’s a country music song, sung by Marty Stuart, where he sings about being tempted by a woman, presumably who is not his wife, who is trying to steal his heart. “Tempted and tried, deep down inside, I can’t deny I’m tempted,” he sings. The upbeat tempo makes it sound like it’s a good thing to be tempted - or, at least, a whole lotta fun.

It’s interesting how we use that word, tempted. It’s often thrown around, like temptation is no big dea. You go out to eat and you are trying to eat responsibly – you have the grilled chicken, not the marbled steak, the asparagus, not the cheesy, ooey-gooey casserole, and tea, not the wonderful beer your dining companion is enjoying. And, then the dessert tray comes by and the server, half joking but half serious, says, “I thought I might tempt you with dessert,” and the crème brulee, the 7-layer fudge cake, and the cheesecake all look, well, tempting. But temptation is no small matter, a much more serious issue than a forbidden dessert and a few extra calories.

You’re walking down the street, minding your own business, when an attractive woman steps out of the building in front of you and you notice that her skirt is cut up to here and the blouse is down to there. The temptation isn’t just to sneak a peek but to allow lust to enter the heart and mind. You’re going clothes shopping and the family budget allows for this much and not much more, but you see the outfit on the mannequin and the shoes to match and you are tempted: what’s a little more on the credit card, you rationalize, pushing aside the thoughts about the bill you already can only make the minimum payment on. It’s been a day, a really, really tough day. You head home, just wanting – needing! – a little quiet time, but the kids are wound up and won’t settle down. Homework is a battle. You have one nerve left and someone just stomped on it, and suddenly, you feel it rising up from deep inside, like mercury in an old thermometer, and you are tempted to snap and bark and act in a way that you know, later, you will regret, but for now, it will let a little steam off. A friend asks you about Jesus, something that they heard or read, and knowing you are a Christian, they want your answer, but you’re tempted to keep quiet because you’re not sure what to say, and, to be honest, you’re a little bit afraid. You go to the doctor and the doctor says, “I’m sorry. There’s nothing left to do.” The temptation to be overwhelmed with despair is right there. Or, you stand beside the casket of a loved one, not sure how you’ll go on, now sure how the hole in your life will be filled, and the temptation is one of allowing grief to overwhelm you with doubt God’s promises.

Being tempted. Yes, we know it. We know it well. It’s much deeper than the simplistic idea of being tempted to take something that’s not yours. Satan knows your weaknesses better than you, and he will work, he will tempt you, utilizing those against you.

Listen again to these words from Hebrews. “For because he himself has suffered when tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted.” These words aren’t so much about our temptations, but about Jesus who helps us in our temptations. How does He help? What does He do? It’s in these three words: flesh and blood.

Flesh and blood. He became one of us. He took on flesh and blood just like us, taking on our humanity, experiencing every temptation that you and I know all too well. Jesus is God. Jesus is also man, full and completely. He bled when He was cut. His legs hurt when he grew into a teenager. He had headaches when it was allergy season in Israel. He had a stomach that growled when it was hungry. He had eyes to see, hears to hear, a mouth to speak, a nose to smell. He had glands and hormones. All of the parts of us that can be tempted, He had those, too. He knows what it is to be tested, rejected, hated, and despised to the point of betrayal and death. He was tempted to give up, to turn His back on His Father and His plan of salvation. He was tempted in every way as you and me, but there was one major – and perfect – exception: He does not surrender to those temptations. He does not give in to pride, arrogance, anger, hunger, greed, lust, doubt, despair, or anything else that would strip Him of His holy ability to be the perfect sacrifice for the times we fail in our temptations. He knows exactly what is needed to stand against these temptations because He is stronger than any and all temptations.

So, the help He gives is holy and stronger as well. You know how you feel when someone comes to you, lamenting, hurting, grieving, struggling. Your friend, your spouse, your child needs your help but there is, literally, nothing you can do except to offer a modicum of consolation, a hug, and a whisp of encouragement to “hang in there; it’s gotta get better, right?” In that moment, you don’t know what to do; you don’t know how to help. Jesus knows the help we need, and He gives it.

Here’s a good analogy: Alcoholics Anonymous. I have some issues with the theology in their program, the reference to a “higher power,” for example, but what they do well is that the people who give the help are fellow alcoholics themselves. If you are an alcoholic who needs help, seek out an alcoholic who also needed help themselves; if you want recovery from alcoholism, find an alcoholic who is also recovering. They are the best ones to give the help, because they’ve been there, themselves.

Jesus knows the help we need because He is fully human, flesh-and-blood human, with experience of all and any temptations, and He offers to help those who are being tempted. Now, exactly how He will do that as you face your temptation, and you face yours, and you face yours, exactly what that will look like, I don’t know. Sometimes He will remind you of a Word you learned in Sunday school, or from Sunday’s sermon that stuck with you. He might provide a friend who comes alongside you. He might even be giving you the strength to literally close your eyes, to tell a friend to “stop,” or even to get up, shut up, and walk away. But I know this: He has flesh and blood. He has been tempted like you. And, when you are in the middle of that struggle against satan, and your own sinful flesh, and the world around you, any or all tempting you to just give in and surrender, Jesus stands with you. Because He is just like you.

Of course, we aren’t just like him. We don’t say no to every temptation. We are contaminated with sin. We have failed. We have given in to the fear and the greed and the lust and the doubts and the despair and pride and the anger and the jealousy. We’ve given in. What I want you to know is Jesus doesn’t only help us in facing temptations. He has already helped us – not just in the facing of temptations, but in the failure of them.

How? Flesh and blood. Look at the cross. Flesh and blood. He bleeds. He takes your punishment for your failures of temptations. He dies, flesh and blood.

The help you need is described in this word, propitiation. That is Jesus disposing of our sins by the shedding of His blood; it’s His taking care of God’s anger for us; it’s Jesus bringing forgiveness for us. He helps us in our failures on temptation.

It doesn’t stop there. He even helps in the future of temptation. When He rises on Easter morning, how does He rise? Flesh and blood. Of course, you remember Thomas. He doubts – he’s tempted to ignore the promises of Jesus. But, Jesus allows him the privilege of touching flesh and blood. Later, the disciples think Jesus is a ghost. How does Jesus calm them? He eats a piece of fish. Only flesh and blood need to eat – not ghosts. And, when He rises, He does so with a glorified body. That is the greatest help of all: when we die, we too, shall rise. We do not need to be tempted that our sins are still held against us: Christ is risen. We are risen. Risen, indeed. Alleluia. Flesh and blood, glorified bodies, temptation left behind: no more lust, greed, anger, fear, despair. We will simply be like Jesus. Sinless, deathless, eternal.

When tempted, Jesus is able to help us. In the face of temptation, in the failures, He helps us. And into the future, Jesus helps us.

A moment ago, I said that Jesus will help you in your temptations, but I don’t know necessarily how He will do it. That’s true. But, let me show you one way He will very likely help you. He will help you turn to him. That’s his invitation: look at me! Turn to the cross. That’s where Jesus has helped you, past, present and into eternity.