Sunday, June 21, 2026

A Devotional Thought for Father's Day

Whether you count your child’s lifespan still as weeks and months, or by the decade, whether you push him or her in a stroller or they sometimes push you in a wheelchair, you have had those moments and experiences as a father, filled with anger and frustration – some were righteously felt, but if we’re honest, others not so much. Fatherhood is one of God’s great gifts and children are a blessing. Parenthood is the primary relationship of all mankind, fathers and children, and it is to be one where grace and mercy is freely practiced and love and compassion are exercised.

But, when this relationship breaks, it causes terrible heartache and heartbreak.
The devil cannot abide a peaceful, loving home. So, the devil loves to take the gift and fill us with frustration and hurt so that we call fatherhood a burden, and he loves to take the blessing and fill it with harsh words and broken hearts so that we call it, instead, a curse. He fuels society to call children a disposable choice, much like the terrible ties that will be given today. Love and compassion are surrendered to getting even and showing who’s boss. Grace and mercy are given over to self-justification and self-righteousness.

And then, when we men realize our mistakes and our sins against our kids, the devil takes that all and wraps it up with a horrible, thorny bow and delivers it to us again as shame and guilt. He brings up memories from weeks, years, even decades ago, that good Christian dads would never have thought such things, or felt such things, or done such things toward their children. He leaves us fathers in our own despair, seeing only our failures and our homes as anything but places where the Spirit of God dwells. And, because society casts greater value on the strong, resilient man, we men are told to suck it up and be, well, men. But, when men are crushed under the weight of guilt and shame, where do we turn?

Dads of all ages – hear this Word of God. Christ comes for you. He, who descends to earth as a human boy, who in holiness perfectly submitted to earthly and sinful parents, is your Savior. For all of those parental melt-downs, and fatherly conniption fits and tantrums, and even the exasperated grandfather's “that’s not how we did it in our day,” Jesus is yours. In repentance, surrender them to Him. They are in the past, forgiven, abandoned at the cross. Jesus didn’t drag your sins up from the grave with Him on Easter. Our Heavenly Father has forgiven you, dad, for all your fatherly sins. Don’t let Satan continue to weigh you down with those moments. In faith, know, believe, trust and rely that you, too, are forgiven by Christ.

In humility, confess your failing to your kids and ask them for their forgiveness, too, without excuses or condition (you know, the “I’m sorry I yelled, but if you would have cleaned up your room…”) and pledge to do better next time. When you do that, you give your child the wonderful opportunity to share the Word of God with you, the Word that says, “I forgive you, Dad.” You might have to teach them to use those words; that’s OK, and it’s worth teaching. Because there, in the family, united with Christ in Baptism and grounded in the Word, there is Christ.

Dads: be at peace.
You are forgiven in Christ.
You are loved.
Amen.


             My Dad - Walt Meyer

"Have No Fear...Do Not Fear...Fear Not..." Matthew 10: 21-33

You remember in last week’s Gospel lesson, Jesus sent out the disciples into the world to do His continued work of compassion, healing the sick, driving out demons, and doing all things in His name.

You might imagine their excitement. They’ve been with Jesus for a year or so. They’ve seen and heard the incredible things Jesus has done: healing the sick, raising the dead, calming the Sea of Galilee. Truly, this was God who dwelled among them and His power, wisdom, and strength were phenomenal. And, now He was giving His authority to the disciples to distribute His compassion to the shepherd-less people of Israel and deliver the news that the Kingdom of heaven is at hand. What could go wrong?

“Behold, I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves… Beware of men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake to bear witness before them and the gentiles. When they deliver you over, do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that hour...” “Brother will deliver brother over to death and the father his child and children will rise against parents and have them put to death, and you will be hated by all for my name’s sake.”

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It’s a cup of cold water to the face, isn’t it? He gives a double-barrel blast of harsh reality to the disciples as they prepare to leave. Jesus knows what will happen to His disciples – immediately, these things will happen to a certain degree, but even more so after He ascends. Jesus knows that His disciples will be facing every type of persecution from His message being passively ignored, to the men physically thrown out of town, to being beaten, eventually even being martyred --- all because they will dare to preach Jesus.

In the midst of these warnings, Jesus speaks a very clear word of assurance: Do not be afraid. Three times, Jesus speaks against fear: have no fear, do not fear, fear not.

“Have no fear of them, for nothing is covered that will not be revealed or hidden that will not be known.” The disciples are armed with His Gospel message, and it will both cut like a razor into the infection of sin and bind up the hearts that have been cut deeply by the burden of guilt. His Word is powerful and it will not be stopped, no matter what the devil might throw against the disciples.

He says it again. “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”  The worst that can be taken from you is your physical death, yet you have the promise of eternity by grace through faith. Do you believe the Father’s wrath that lasts for eternity for those who deny Him? Do you trust the Father’s eternal care for those whom live under His grace? Their deepest fear, love and trust is directed to the Father – reflective in the First Commandment – not anyone else.

Jesus’ third word, “fear not,” acts as a final end to all excuses. Jesus uses a sparrow as his object lesson: two for a penny, Jesus says – that’s all they’re worth on the market. Yet, the Father knows when one of these little birds falls to the ground. If that’s true of a two-for-a-penny deal, how much more will he care for you? Do you think He doesn’t know about your family? Your house? Your business? Of course He does! And He will provide for you, both now and into eternity, so that not even the hairs on your head will be lost. Jesus never says that evil won’t come to His disciples. In fact, if anything, Jesus promises that suffering, difficulty, persecution, and even martyrdom will come for those who follow Him. But, out of the Father’s loving care, He will be with the disciples even if, even when they are suffering and dying.

Do we really believe that? Last week, in Bible class, the question was raised about when we are persecuted, when push comes to shove and it’s deny the name of Jesus or be killed, what is the Christian to do? What if it’s our loved ones who will be killed if we don’t deny Jesus, or our business destroyed, or our home taken? Can we pretend, lie, and say we deny Jesus while secretly still believing? Would such an act be forgiven? Would we still receive eternal salvation or would we be damned because of our public denial? 

Let’s dial the intensity down from life and death and see what we do with that, first. As a modern North American society, Christians have bought into the false dichotomy, “I’m afraid I’ll offend someone if I tell them about Jesus.” I suspect that the truth is much closer to this: we’re afraid of what people will think, say, or do towards me.

Think about it: we confess loudly on Sunday mornings, “I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth,” but on Tuesday at work when the discussion turns to evolution and how “Everyone knows it is true that the world evolved from a spec of dust and a cosmic electrostatic charge…”, we remain mum instead of defending the 7 day creation account of the Bible because we don’t want to be laughed at. On Thursday, sitting in the hair salon, a television show has a so-called expert saying that all religions basically believe the same thing and we are intolerant if we don’t accept that, and we don’t speak against that lie because we don’t want to be branded as a religious freak. After a discussion with a son or daughter that Jesus is the only way to eternal life becomes an out-right war of words, you back down and say, “Well, that’s what Pastor said in Bible class, but you know him…besides, that’s his opinion.” Do not be afraid…but we are.

So, what are we to do?

Repent. Repentance means turning away from what was done, being sorry and sad for what was done in the past, and vowing to return in faith to Jesus. Repent of the times we have been too afraid to speak. Turn away from that fear. Repent of the times we have been afraid to confess Jesus. Turn away from that fear. Repent of the times we have taken the easy way out instead of engaging those who need to hear. Turn away from that fear. Repent of the times we have loved our own comfort and earthly safety and first article gifts more than the eternal gifts Christ died to give us. Turn away from that fear and turn to Jesus, instead, clinging to His promises even when it seems impossible.

So, back to last Sunday’s Bible class discussion, repent - repent of the idea that we can pre-plan our sins banking that it’ll be OK because Jesus died for those sins, too. Our Epistle lesson is from Romans 6 – I would encourage you to read the whole chapter today. Paul speaks to the very truth that because Jesus died for us, we are forgiven, yes, baptized into His death and resurrection, but it does not excuse sinful behavior. Doing so cheapens grace, cheapens Jesus’ death and resurrection. “Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? May it not be so!” Paul writes. Our old self is crucified, remember, and not to be brought back to life. If the old self denies Jesus and discards the cross, it’s as if it is also disposing of the resurrection, as if saying “I don’t need Jesus because I can save myself by doing this terrible thing.”

“But, wait… It’s not like I am really denying Jesus. I’m just saying it – I’m lying to the authorities to preserve my life, or the lives of those whom I love.” It’s still a first commandment issue, placing yourself in God’s place, and a second commandment issue, lying by His name, that you have to save yourself or those whom you love because God’s not doing it in the way you want. “But it’s just this once – I won’t do it again!” Deliberate, intentional sin weakens the soul’s fight against temptation. Deny Jesus once, even under the guise of a lie, and when the temptation comes again, what’s the likely result? What happens when the lie becomes the truth?

Repent. And believe Jesus’ words: do not be afraid. And be His apostles. Remember, Jesus doesn’t say “Don’t be afraid, I was just kidding about going out into the world.” No, even with His words of prophetic warning, He still sends them out into the world, armed with His Word, His Spirit, and His comfort: do not be afraid.

Jesus can say that to the Twelve because He knows He will face worse than anyone can ever imagine. What the disciples will experience at the hands of the wicked and sinful men will be multiplied against Jesus as He is seized, beaten, convicted of a capitol crime and sentenced to death by one of the cruelest instruments of torture the world has ever devised. There, separated from both heaven and earth, He experiences hell on earth, taking into and onto Himself the entire, eternal, damnable punishment that our sins deserve. In that moment on the cross, Jesus died for all of the times in the weakness of our flesh that we were too afraid, in our weakness, to speak His name, to embarrassed to say He is the only way to eternal salvation, too “afraid to offend” by living the Christian faith, too afraid to be compassionate.

In the years ahead, Jesus’ words about persecution would take on truth that none of them could imagine. With the exception of St. John, all would die terrible, physical deaths for the name of Jesus, refusing to deny or denigrate Jesus’ name. In the centuries since then, Christians have followed in the footsteps of Jesus, and the Twelve, and the generations that went before, confessing the name of Jesus with their dying breath. Some such confessions are famous: Joan of Arc, the students at Columbine High School, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Others, the world will not know their names this side of heaven, like the martyrs in Iraq, the Christians in the Sudan, or the church in China.

The same baptismal water that washes away our sins and joins us to Christ’s death and resurrection also tattoos a spiritual target on our foreheads and hearts. So, to last Sunday’s Bible class question: if you were to have that life-or-death question put to you, do you deny Jesus and live, or confess Him and die, what do you do, what can you do? As a Christian, we are called to confess the name of Jesus, even if the option is horrific and terrifying. The follow-up question was, “what if the threat is against my kids, my spouse, other Christians – that if I deny Jesus, they would live?” The same truth holds. It is “Far better to be rejected and killed by enemies who themselves are mortal than to find out that, because of your unbelief and apostasy, the Father had become your eternal enemy,” (Gibbs, Matthew 1:1-11:1: 529). Remember, Jesus says three times – not once or twice, but three times – fear not! Do not fear your opponents, do not fear those who kill, do not fear your worth in the eyes of the Lord, for He loves you deeply and fully, even more than the sparrows in the air.

That promise is true for us, the saints of God in this place. In His compassion, Christ Jesus strengthens us as He sends us from this corner sanctuary to the perilous world around us. You have all of His gifts: He made you His in baptismal waters. He strengthens us with body and blood, given and shed for you. He reminds you over and over that you have been forgiven all of your sins in His name. He joins you with brothers and sisters in Christ to encourage each other and remind each other, “do not be afraid.” And then he places you in your vocation where He works through you in Christian service and witness to those around you.

In that vocation, you will have God-given opportunities to speak to others who do not know, believe in, and have eternal salvation in Christ Jesus. It might be happen with the contractor who comes to your house and asks about the crosses hanging on your wall, or the mechanic who asks you about what you did over the weekend, or the server who brings you your plate of food this afternoon, or the surgeon who asks how you can be so calm. Do not be afraid. Take a deep breath. On this Father’s Day, model that faith to your children. Be bold to stand, speak, and confess Christ, even when it is hard, difficult, and uncomfortable. And you, empowered by the Spirit of Christ, given His Word and His promise and His blessing of “Do not be afraid,” you open your mouth and you begin to speak. In the name of Jesus. Amen.

Sunday, June 14, 2026

Jesus' Aching Guts - Matthew 9: 35-10:8

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson from Matthew 9.

You are probably familiar with IQ tests. IQ stands for Intelligence Quotient. It’s one way to try to quantify a person’s relative intelligence – in other words, to try to determine how smart one might potentially be. It’s not a perfect instrument, of course, but it’s been the gold standard for decades.

In the last 20 years or so, educators, psychologists, psychiatrists and sociologists have come to realize that there is more to life than just intelligence. A new term was used called emotional intelligence, usually abbreviated as EQ to make it parallel with IQ. This is used to not so much measure raw intellectual power but rather the ability of a person to see what is happening, to read the room, as they say, to register other’s emotions and have a proper response to them. As a result of this, we now pay more attention to words like empathy, sympathy and pity and what that means for us as people.

Empathy. You’ve probably heard that term before. Empathy comes into English from the German word Einfühlung. Literally, einfühlung means ‘feeling into’ – it’s the idea that you are feeling what someone else is feeling, perhaps not to the depth of breadth of their emotion, but you are at least tracking along with them. You have empathy if you see someone experiencing joy, or sadness, or fear and you likewise have a measure of joy, sadness, or fear along with them. It involves, first, seeing someone else’s situation from his perspective, and, second, sharing his emotions, including, if any, his distress. You might hear an empathetic person say, “That hurts my heart.” Empathy is good; it is important to help us gain another person’s perspective, to walk a mile in their shoes and gain some understanding of their zitsenleiben – another good German word - their place in life.

You may be more familiar with the word sympathy. Sympathy and empathy are not the same thing; they are quite different. Sympathy literally means “feeling along with.” It’s a feeling of care or concern for someone, but it stops short of putting yourself in their place. It implies distance. There is no shared emotion, only a personal reaction to what someone else is going through.

Then, of course, there is their close cousin pity. Pity stems from judgement and focuses on you - what you feel, your discomfort and displeasure at the yuckiness you see – not the other person. Pity acknowledges a situation but is quick to move on – after offering a condescending comment or two. If sympathy implies distance, pity demands separation.

So, why the lesson in sociological and psychological terms, huh? Glad you asked.

Jesus is traveling around from village to village, city to city, and everywhere he goes he is teaching, preaching and healing. What he discovers, time and time again, is that the crowd is harassed and helpless. St. Matthew uses a comparison that we can imagine, if not fully understand, saying that they were like sheep without a shepherd.

Shepherdless sheep are in a dangerous situation. Without someone to watch them, sheep are all too soon turned into sheep stew by a pack of marauding wild dogs. Without someone to guide them, sheep wander into thorny bushes that grab them by the wool and refuse to let them go, or wade too far out into the water where their wool drags them under and they drown. Without someone to direct them, sheep will literally eat themselves sick on fresh green grass. Without someone to calm them, sheep startle and spook, running willy-nilly until they are hopelessly, helplessly lost – easy pickings for a dishonest man looking to add another animal to his herd or some fresh meet to the family dinner table.

That’s the point of comparison. The people were a congregation without a pastor – not because the pastors weren’t there. Oh, no – they were there, alright. All of the people whose responsibilities include caring for the eternal souls and welfare of the people, feeding them God’s Word, blessing them with His name, imparting and delivering the gifts of God day in and day out, praying and interceding for them – all of these shepherd-pastors stood by and abandoned their flocks to be consumed by the wolves and bears and lions of the devil, the world, and their own sinful flesh.

And, meanwhile, as the sheep were devoured one by one by being led to take their eyes off of the promise of the coming Messiah, now fulfilled in Jesus, the shepherds got fat and sassy. They debated the fine intricacies of the Law and argued ways people were guilty of breaking the Law…all the while holding themselves up as high, and great, and holy men. They proffered themselves as near divine with practically sinless lives all the while looking down their pharaisaical noses at sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. Instead of having compassion of their own for these people of God, these sheep, who were wandering and in danger of being forever lost and damned, they passed by, lest they dirty themselves in the process. They were compassion-less for those who needed compassion.

Jesus sees the crowds and their sheep-like situation. What does He do?

Well, he could have had pity on them. “Poor people,” he could have said. “If you had only paid attention to all of the prophets that my Father sent you, you wouldn’t be in this mess.” He could have had sympathy. “Yeah, you’ve got a real situation here. You need to figure something and find someone to lead you out but, hey, at least you have each other.” He could have had empathy. He could have wandered around with them, listening to their concerns while also feeling lost and empty, just like them.

But He doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, He has compassion on them. Compassion is empathy put into action. If empathy hits your heart, compassion is a visceral reaction, meaning your guts hurt and you have to respond. Compassion is mercy put into flesh-and-blood action. But compassion also means getting dirty, getting down on someone’s level where they are. Think Good Samaritan, here. Compassion moves you from inaction and into action and it leads you in the dirt – figuratively or literally – down in the ditch in the dust or the muck. Compassion inserts you into their pain, in their misery, whether it’s in the unemployment office, in the homeless shelter, in the chemo room, at the death-bed, or in the funeral home as they stare down the valley of the shadow – getting down eyeball to eyeball with them and be with them in that hard, difficult place and time. Compassion puts you on their level. Compassion says “I’m not better than you…I’m with you, and I won’t let you be alone, and I will help you in this.” Compassion is visceral.

Jesus has compassion. He isn’t some distant, far-off and aloof Divinity. This Jesus is God-in-flesh, perfect God who comes to dwell among His own dear people. This same Jesus, who was with God from the beginning, now stands as a man among people and what He sees hurts.  His pain is so deep that His guts hurt.

Remember: He’s been performing miracles all through Capernaum and the surrounding area. Go back and read the three chapters prior to this morning’s Gospel lesson. He’s been busy: from healing Peter’s mother in law, to calming the storm threatening to sink the disciples’ ship, to raising Jairus’ daughter from the dead, Jesus acted with mercy. But, St. Matthew never says that these things – not even the death of the little girl – caused splancthon, compassion, His guts to hurt.

But the shepherdless people whose pastors failed them, they make Jesus’ guts hurt. So, Jesus reacts and demonstrates His compassion. But how Jesus demonstrates compassion might be a bit surprising.

He tells His disciples to pray. Isn’t that remarkable?  He tells them to pray to the Father that He sends out workers into the harvest field.


Matthew 9:37-38 - Full of Eyes
Used with permission

And, then to further demonstrate His compassion, He sends out the 12 disciples – for the first time identified as apostles, meaning “sent ones” – out into the harvest field. They are to be instruments and vehicles of His compassion, delivering it to those who were shepherdless. “And He called to Him His twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every affliction.” The miracles they perform, the raising from the dead, the exorcisms, and the healing will all be demonstrations of His power, yes – but more than that, of His compassion.

Yet, His compassion is found, chiefly, not in miracles, or exorcisms, or even the raising from the dead in this life. His compassion is found in the cross. The Kingdom is at hand, Jesus said – the time for His Cross is drawing closer. Because of His great compassion, He will suffer and die and rise for the entire world. His guts will hurt – so much so that he sweats great drops of blood. But it’s not just his guts…it’ll be his back from the whips, and his face from the slaps, and his head from the crown of thorns, and his spirit…his spirit as He realizes that even His Father in heaven has abandoned him in the face of hell on earth as the entire sin-filled burden of the world is emptied out upon Him. He takes it all, out of His great compassion for you.

Ours is a world that needs compassion now, more than ever. Our problems in society, they’re not about black or blue, brown or white, rich or poor, donkeys or elephants, inner city or out in the country. It’s that people are acting like sheep without the Good Shepherd. So, demonstrate Christ’s compassion to anyone and everyone. Remember, compassion is empathy put into action, mercy with skin and blood. In His compassion, pray for those around you. In His compassion, speak the name of Jesus without shame and without bashfulness. In His compassion, confess the truth that there is salvation in no other name under heaven. In His compassion, be bold to invite those who are like sheep without a shepherd to the fold so that they, too, may receive the compassion of Jesus in Word and Sacrament.

This week, I pray your guts hurt for others. And, as your guts hurt, I pray you are filled by the Spirit of God with compassion to show them Jesus.

Sunday, June 7, 2026

Questions, Questions, Questions - Matthew 9: 9-13

“When the Pharisees saw this, they said to his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

“Why,” indeed. Why is Jesus eating with such people as…these?

Question: Who? Who were these tax collectors and sinners?

Tax collectors were, universally, disliked. There were several layers of the ancient world tax system, and several layers of how taxes were collected. We might assume Matthew was one of those whose job traditionally kept a heavy thumb on the scale, but we neither know that for sure. So, for the sake of honesty all the way around, let’s just say that the system was rife with ways for corrupt tax collectors to exercise their greed and corruption. The result was tax collectors were all guilty by association. Regardless, whether only slightly overcharging or massively defrauding his fellow Israelites, we can say that Matthew and his cronies were just as sinful as anyone else, then or now, so they were crooks. They impoverished their already cash-strapped fellow Israelites and there were not enough checks and balances in the system to stop such thing.

And, then there were the sinners. This was, presumably, a broad-stroke, general description of various kinds of the dregs of society. People who didn’t care or have the common care and courtesy to show public respect for the commonly held standards of morality of society. Every society has them. We have them, even here in Enid.

So, another question: why does this teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners? Jesus will answer that, for the pharisees and for us, and it might surprise us almost as much as it did His first-century listeners as we discover His reason.


Let me ask another question, first, to help focus on Jesus’ answer. Here it is: why did the pharisees care so much? To rephrase, why did it bother them that Jesus was eating with these people. What was so obtrusive of this that it would become an excuse they would offer for Jesus’ crucifixion? What was so different of this meal, in the home of the tax collector, that bothered them?

It’s tempting to simplify and say, here, that when dining with others, it was implying equality, a meal of fellowship and acceptance with others. Maybe sometimes but not always. Invitation did not always mean full acceptance and fellowship. You might recall in Luke’s Gospel, Jesus was invited to a pharisee’s home for dinner. Invited – not crashed. While Jesus was welcomed in as a guest, he was not a highly regarded guest. Jesus wasn’t welcomed by His host, His feet weren’t washed, His head wasn’t anointed with oil. The point is Jesus was a guest in the pharisee’s house, but He was far from the guest of honor, far from full fellowship. Jesus wasn’t even greeted at the door. You could say Jesus was put in His place – literally – as though the pharisee said, “You are here, Jesus, but you are here on my terms.”  

This does not happen with Jesus. This man eats with anyone. High, low; respected, despised; good, bad. That was different about Him. But that was the rub. Such behavior wasn’t respectful enough for that society. It wasn’t the way propriety was managed. There wasn’t a system, an acknowledgement of the way the world worked out there with greater and lesser rungs on the social ladder. And, they were right. Because in Jesus’ presence, there is no higher and no lower. He did not play that game. All rankings, dissolved; all distinction, destroyed; all societal rungs, broken. But, how would we function that way, the pharisees said. How will we figure out who’s more important, powerful, acceptable, or righteous without these in place? It would change everything! He cannot be allowed to overthrow our culture, our society, our system.

Exactly. He desires to overthrow everything, everything about us that would separate us from Him.

He wants to overthrow our pride that comes from thinking and comparing, the idea that I am better than you, or you are better than the person sitting two rows behind you, or you are better than a coworker, a neighbor, the girl checking your groceries this afternoon, the crew sealing the roads around downtown, or the man about your age who is still working at Brahms. I thank God I am not like him…or her…or them. He overthrows such foolish, separating, dividing pride and prideful thinking of better than or less than. In the presence of Jesus, there is no “Better.” If you think there is, you find yourself standing outside the meal, standing outside of Jesus, asking, “But, why?” Jesus desires to overthrow that attitude.

He wants to overthrow the fear, the fear that lives inside that says you are an imposter – that if people knew, if they really knew you, they would ostracize you from work, the neighborhood, the team, relationships, even the congregation. And, in the darkest moments, moments when you’re confronted with your sins, with your memories, with death, you wonder if there is even a place for you in the Kingdom. Some days it’s so bad you can hardly believe there is a place for you, even among the tax collectors and sinners. He wants to overthrow this, too.

This is why they asked, “Why does this teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

Now, we are ready for Jesus’ answer. He says, “Well, it’s because the well ones don’t need a doctor. I didn’t come to call righteous people. I came to call sinners!” In His mind, there are only two categories: the righteous ones, who are well, and the sick ones who desperately need a doctor to heal them.

The first category, the well ones, the righteous ones, is easy. It’s easy because it’s empty. There is no one in it. Not even the ones who think they deserve to belong there.

The second category, the sick ones, the sinful ones, is also easy. It’s everyone, everyone is in it. If no one is righteous, then everyone is guilty. Everyone is sick. Everyone needs a doctor. And Jesus is the doctor, and He has come for you and for all.

By the way…this made the leaders mad when Jesus spoke these words then, and it makes people mad today when we proclaim Jesus words. Because it’s not about them, it’s about Jesus and Him alone.

This is really quite remarkable: He is the one, the only, physician who has that kind of authority. He cleansed the leper, because He was willing to. He healed the sick servant of the centurion from a distance because He had that authority. He raised up Simon Peter’s mother-in-law, and He rebuked a storm like youth would scold a rebellious child, and the storm obeyed, the sickness and the storm both reacting to His authority. He threw demons into a herd of pigs, and after forgiving a paralytic, He raised the man to health. The pharisees wanted to kill Him, remember, but He didn’t let them do it until He was ready. Then, He went into the Holy City and cast evil out of the temple, with authority, and He tried to gather them all to Himself – all of them, even the ones who hated Him enough to plan to kill Him. And He mourned them, because they were unwilling: unwilling to hear, to listen, to believe His authority as the Son of God.

But, He was willing to do the work of His Father, to be the doctor, to come down to the place of damnable illness and the illness of damnation, to be the great Physician. He turned His back to those who smote Him, and then His Father turned His holy back to His Son, for as Jesus had once eaten with the sinners when no one else dared to do so, He was numbered with the sinners in a way no one else could do. And, He set a place at the table for you.

And then, with authority, doing what no one else could do, He rose, soul and body. The Great Physician, embodied, rose. He broke the friend and the tool of sin. He defeated the enemy that, to this day, still hovers over every meal we share and every joy we experience, and He undid death. He rose, immortal forever. In His resurrection, He heals you. And, just as surely as He has forgiven your sins and my sins and the sins of every saint who needs the Great Doctor of Souls, He joins you, body and soul, to Himself in Holy Baptism. Then, to strengthen you in body and spirit, He invites you to His Table where He is both the host and the meal, itself. And, one day, there will be another banquet, a banquet of rich food and fine wine, a banquet hosted by He who is both the Great Physician and the very Bread of Life: this Jesus, who will raise and heal us forever.

And there, in that great resurrection, there will no longer be any need to ask questions. The why’s, who’s, when’s, and what’s, will all be answered for us.

Who? You - the Church
What? His mercy.
Where? The cross.
When? Forever
Why? Jesus