Give us this day our daily bread - John 6:22-35

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

It all came about because the people were grumbling. Two months into the wilderness journey, just sixty or so days since they fled from the Egyptians and the wicked pharaoh, and the people were already lamenting how they left behind pots of meat and baskets of fresh vegetables. If you want to talk about romanticizing a situation, this was it. Back in Egypt, they weren’t shopping at Whole Foods, they were digging in the scrap bins. It wasn’t “Here Everything’s Better” – it was here, everyone was begging for their lives. It wasn’t “Save Money – Live Better,” it was save our necks and live one more day.[1] But their scrap stew and stale crusts of bread seemed like a 5-star Michelin meal compared to the hot air that they were dining on in the desert. What they had in Egypt wasn’t much, they could honestly say, but it beat starvation. And so they grumbled – they grumbled against God and grumbled against Moses. “It would have been better if we died in Egypt than to die out here in the desert,” they lamented.

No. It would not have been better had they died in Egypt. Nor would it do for God’s people whom He rescued to die in the wilderness. How terrible that would be. Could you imagine the laughter? “Oh, yeah…that Israelite God. He was strong enough to perform ten incredible plagues over Egypt and part the Red Sea, but he forgot His logistical supply train out in the desert…” No, that wouldn’t do at all. So the Lord, in His grace and mercy, reaches out His hand and rains down blessings upon His hungry, grumbling people.

Manna. In Hebrew, manach. We know what it is, sort of, but the ancient Israelites had no clue, so the name of this flaky, semi-sweet coriander-like, bread-ish substance means exactly that: “What is it?” It’s not exactly bread, lechem, at least not like the bread they had always known, but that’s what God called it. It came to the ground overnight, a left-over remnant after the dew. The Children of Israel were to harvest it in the morning, enough for each person in the family to have enough for three meals in a day – nothing more. If they tried to store up extras, to squirrel away a little manach for a rainy day, so to speak, they were left with a stinky, bug-infested mess. They were to only collect a day’s ration at a time. It was as if God were saying, “I will provide. Do you trust me? You have My word and my word does not fail. Do you trust me? Every day, go collect the daily ration – with the exception of Friday when you collect a double portion for Sabbath – and you will not hunger.” And the Lord did as He promised. Every night the dew lay on the ground and every morning the manna was ready to be picked up.

Ah, yes. Every morning. Every morning for forty years the Lord provided perfectly for His people so their bellies didn’t growl in emptiness. Every morning. That’s over 76,000 meals of manna that were eaten over 40 years. Every morning, God’s blessing literally appeared on the ground and every day, the people were fed.

But it was an every morning ordeal. Every morning they had to go pick it up. Every morning they had to go collect the manna so they would survive. That’s 12,520 mornings of going out and gathering manna with a weekly day off. Every morning, baskets of manna to provide the day’s meals. Israel was experiencing God’s curse to Eve in a very personal way: “By the sweat of your face you shall eat bread till you return to the ground…” (Gen. 3:19). God was again using bread to save His people, but it was only a temporal salvation that had to be repeated every day until they entered the Promised Land. 

Daily bread. We know about daily bread, don’t we, and the work it takes to have it. Now, by daily bread, I don’t just mean Mrs. Baird’s finest. That’s part of it, sure, but daily bread encompasses much more. Luther says it’s everything that we need to support this body and life such as food, drink, clothing, shoes, house, home, land, animals, money, goods, family, employment, good weather and more. We know about this bread and we know about getting it. We get up in the morning and go to work. For some, that’s going to the plant; for others, that’s planting in the ground. For some, it’s an office or a classroom; for others, it’s an oilfield or a warehouse. For some, it’s driving a vehicle for sales or delivery; for others, it’s crawling under a car to service it. But every morning, except our Sabbath, it’s up and at ‘em, making hay while the sun shines, turning and burning, trying to gather the daily bread that the Lord provides through our work.

But daily bread is just that – it’s daily. It’s fleeting. It passes. Whether it’s the food in the pantry, the clothes on our backs, the health of our bodies, the money in our IRA and 401Ks, or the stability of our families, they don’t last forever. Do we work to live, or live to work? It’s tempting to become jaded. It happens to me, too. I’ve been there, myself. Some days, I understand the words of the writer of Proverbs 1 a little more clearly than others: “Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.”  What do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun?” (Prov. 1:1-3)

Jesus picks up on this in today’s Gospel lesson. “Do not labor for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you.” (Jn. 6:27). He is teaching the crowds that followed to stop following Him because of the miracles and the baskets of bread. Instead, follow Jesus to receive the gift that lasts into eternity.

The gift isn’t earned by going to work each day. This is a food that’s given you free, gratis, from the Son of Man, from Jesus, marked in His Baptism as the Son of God and Source of salvation.  Jesus alone, and there is no other.

Jesus our bread; Jesus our drink.  If you’re thinking Lord’s Supper, you on the right track.  But today it’s about trust in Jesus and His work to save you.  So that you don’t doubt, so that you don’t wonder if this bread is for you, He gives you a sign. It’s not changing a boy’s loaf into a massive potluck. It’s something greater: His death and resurrection.  That’s how this Bread of Life is baked - in the fiery furnace of God’s wrath against our sin and in the burning heat of His passion to save His fallen creation.  Like wheat ground up by the mill and put into the fire, Jesus endured the cross bearing our sin in order to be our Food, the Source of life.

“I am the Bread of Life,” Jesus said.  Think about it: bread.  Not croissant, not challa, not fancy gourmet loaves, not a delicacy to be indulged in once and a while.  Bread.  Daily, ordinary, earthy food.  Jesus is manna for sinners - those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.  You, in all the ways that sin has left you empty and hungry.  There is food that endures forever.  A Bread that gives life forever.  A drink that quenches your thirst and soothes your parched soul.  Not “chicken soup for the soul,” but bread of life for your life.  And it is free.  Not earned but given, received.

When I was a student at the Seminary in St. Louis, there was a cooking show on the local PBS station that I loved to watch. The host was a Dominican monk from the nearby monastery in Illinois and his show was called, simply, BREAKING BREAD WITH FATHER DOMINIQUE. I guess I was a groupie – I got his cookbook for a Christmas gift. And, I have to admit, as I was writing this I googled “Breaking Bread with Father Dominique” and I was pleasantly surprised to find that not only is he still baking, but I also found both his blog and his video channel.

One of his first episodes, he was discussing the basics of how to bake bread. Apparently, a lot of people are intimidated by bread because of the yeast involved, and then the kneading process, and the time it takes to bake bread – about three hours, start to finish – so he was trying to soothe first time bakers. Short of killing the yeast, it takes a lot of work to really mess up a batch of bread.  He said, “Don’t worry about the bread. It is your friend. Bread is very forgiving.” 

That Bread is Jesus Himself - Jesus in the Word, Jesus in your Baptism, Jesus in the Bread and Cup.  Jesus, for the full and free forgiveness of all of your sins. Eat and drink, trust in Him, and you will filled with life forever.

---

[1] Slogans for HEB grocery and Wal-Mart, respectively.

When God Hides - Mark 6: 45-52

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

The text is the Gospel lesson read a few moments ago.

I was watching some parents play with their baby the other day. They were doing what we did with our kids, so it caught my attention. In fact, I was rather wrapped up in the moment. Here were two perfectly intelligent, and judging by their clothes, professional adults, who – because of the presence of their infant – were reduced to babbling and baby-talk. He looked like he was used to cutting deals in board rooms and she looked like she was managing a power business of her own, but in that moment neither of them were worried about contracts or customers. And they were goofy. Their attention was 100% focused on their little child – they didn’t care about what I or anyone else was thinking. Speaking of goofy, I was smiling ear to ear, watching and remembering. But, then it happened: the mom took her baby’s hands in hers and, with a gentle motion raised the hands toward the child’s eyes while imitating a soprano Ed McMahon, “Wherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre’s baby?” and then suddenly pulling the child’s eyes away from her face. The baby giggled with that contagious bubbling laughter that all babies have, I think. “Wherrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr’s baby?” Over and over they played. Baby giggled, mom laughed, dad beamed. And me? I smiled and remembered doing that with my own kids when they were little.

Peek-a-boo is a lot of fun when you’re playing with an intoxicatingly jovial infant. But when it seems as if God is playing peek-a-boo with you, it’s a whole ‘nother game, indeed.

“Pastor, I don’t understand. I keep praying and praying, but it seems like God isn’t listening. Or, if he’s listening, he’s not hearing what I’m saying. Is he hiding from me? Does he not care, anymore?” Those words were coming from a deeply troubled soul whose life had just been turned upside down. This person was seeking God. This individual was trying to pray but felt that the prayers were being unanswered, ignored, or simply laughed at. It seemed to be a fork in the road where only one path was a possible answer: either God doesn’t care, or he simply can’t help me.

Perhaps you are that soul, or you have been in that position before. Where are you, God? Why aren’t you answering me? Why do you seem so far away? You are in good company. Those cries of the faithful has been uttered, sobbed, screamed, whispered, and prayed into the silence by God’s people of all ages. Skim through the Psalms and you will see it over and over again – Psalm 5, 10, 39, 54, 61, 102 and 143 just to name a few – the cries of God’s children in need, in distress, in anguish, calling out to God for relief, but it seems as if He is hiding from them.

First, let us be clear: the Lord has promised to hear your prayers and He will always respond in His time in His way. Just because He isn’t responding WHEN you want, HOW you what, WHERE you want does not mean He is not listening, or He will not answer, or He doesn’t love you, or He has abandoned you. When God hides, when He is silent, He does so on purpose: He does not want to be found in that moment. Remember - God is in control of the hiding. Why would He do such a thing? God does this to do something to us. Don’t ever think God is sitting up in the heavens waiting for you to know Him or find Him by means of speculation or analogy or to crawl your way up to Him. No – not at all. God hides in the world. But, the purpose of that hiding is so that He can be found.

But He is found where you might not be seeking.

Where does one seek God? Oh, there are lots of places to look. Think of your average day. Where could God be hiding? The devil is quick to offer hiding places. After all, he wants you to try to find God naked, so to speak, unclothed from His Word and promises. To borrow from the old country song, the devil wants you to go looking for God in all the wrong places, looking for God in too many places. So, you start searching. But where do you search?

You pray for relief from the burden of debt. Could He be hiding in the lottery to take away all your financial worries? You pray for healing. Could He be hiding in a wonder drug that works wonders? You pray for your pain to stop. Could He be hiding in a bottle of booze or a package of pills? You pray for your family to be at peace. Could He be hiding in someone else’s home instead of yours? You pray for a miracle. Why isn’t he doing like he did then – walking around, healing the sick. The temptations multiply. Maybe we’re not praying hard enough. Maybe we’re not good enough. Maybe God is hiding in another church, another religion, maybe even another god? The temptation grows to go scurrying off after anything and everything that seems to have an answer. When this happens, we no longer even know who God is, we cannot recognize him – in fact, we hardly recognize ourselves as children of God. It is very much like the disciples – “This is a ghost!”

Luther said, “He uses our efforts as a mask under which He blesses us and dispenses His gifts so that there is a place for faith.” So God hides that we might believe His promise He is there and where He has promised to be. He hides from where we would seek him with our human wisdom and understanding. He hides beyond all speculation and guessing. He hides – deliberately - so He is not found in those places where idols dwell. He will not let Himself be found outside of His Word, His Sacraments, and His Promises for His people. In short, God hides from every place that is not grounded in and centered in the cross of His Son, Jesus Christ, who died and rose from the dead, who promised to send the Holy Spirit, His comforter, who enables us to believe and have life in His name.

When one of my girls was little, when we played hide and seek, she would always tell me where she was hiding. “Daddy – I’m going to hide over there. I bet you can’t find me.” You know how that worked out. God does the same thing: He tells us where He hides.

God both hides and reveals in the flesh and blood of His Son Jesus Christ.  In a place where the world would never think to look, God enters into this world and hides in a Nazarite woman’s womb, delivered as a Bethlehem Baby. He hides, in a way, where He was unexpected, under the sign of the opposite, in suffering, death, opposition to man’s reading of the law, being despised and scorned. His strength hidden in His humiliation; His authority cloaked beneath weakness; His glory unseen in His death; His throne a cross; His royal chambers a grave. There, in the plainly-seen flesh of His Son, the Father attacks all that would lead His children astray and in Christ’s death and resurrection, crushes the devil, the world, and our flesh that would mislead us and lure us into despair, shame and other vices. That is where God both hides and reveals Himself: in Jesus, the Christ, the only Son of God.

Finding Jesus is not hard. Yes, Jesus hides. Remember, earlier I said He hides to do something in you? Ironically, this hiding is so that you can receive Jesus, yourself. He hides in the office of the Holy Ministry and the pastors who serve in Christ’s stead. He hides in the Word that declares both the prophecy of Messiah and the fulfillment of the promises in Jesus. He hides in three handfuls of water spoken in the Triune name of God. He hides in the voice of a sinful man who forgives sins in the name of the Father and the Son the Holy Spirit. His very Body and Blood hides in a bite of bread and a sip of wine. He invites you to find Him where He is hiding. “Take and eat; take and drink.” It’s as if He says to you, “Here I am – hiding right here!

And, He comes to you, not when you are strong, but when you are weak and broken, when you are anxious and depressed, when you know you have sinned against God and man, and when your cheeks are wet with tears and your heart aching, when you feel you cannot search another single place. He doesn’t cast you into the darkness. Instead He comes to you. Hidden in these means, He comes to you as your Lord and your Savior and He says simply, “Take heart. It is I. Do not be afraid.”

Christ's Compassion - Mark 6:30-44

“When Jesus went ashore, he saw a great crowd and he had compassion on then, because they were  like sheep without a shepherd.”

I think for many people, compassion is a synonym of kindness. Not really. It’s much, much more than kindness. Compassion is mercy put into flesh-and-blood action. Compassion is a visceral reaction, meaning it’s what makes your guts hurt when you see something and just have to respond. Compassion hits you in the gut. In fact, the word evolved from describing the waste after butchering. Compassion is a gut-testing thing and it usually means getting dirty, getting down on someone’s level where they are. 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 with a friend in the unemployment office, working in Christ’s kitchen, sitting at the death-bed, or standing in the funeral home as someone stares 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.” Compassion is visceral.  

The reason I tell you all of this is that it is hugely significant that St. Mark says that Jesus has compassion when he sees the shepherd-less people. Do you get it? This 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. And when Jesus hurts, He must act.

For Jesus, His compassion arises for a different reason than you might expect. Let’s do a simple test – what is the presenting need of the people who are on the hillside? It’s been a long day sitting in the sun. Perhaps their need is shelter. Maybe they need sunscreen or aloe for sunburn. Jesus taught for hours. There were no concession stands or vending machines. The people were hungry. The disciples identify that the need is food.

In fact, Mark lets us know that these kind of first article needs – food, illness, even death – these have all already met the compassion of Jesus. He’s healed a demon-possessed man, heals a woman who touches his robe, and even raises Jairus’ daughter from the dead. All of these needs caused Jesus to act and react. But, none of these things – not even the death of the little girl – cause His guts to hurt.

What makes Jesus feel compassion is this: the people were like sheep without a shepherd. They 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 shepherds 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 compassionless for those who needed compassion.

This is what causes Jesus to have compassion: these sheep were shepherdless. Shepherdless sheep wander. They can’t find food, they can’t find water, they can’t find shelter and safety. They are at risk of getting lost and separated from Christ. They are in danger of being picked off, one by one, by the devil, the world and their own sinful flesh. So, Jesus is moved to teach and preach. He fills them full so that the hungry are satisfied by something that lasts into eternity – spiritual food that satisfies.

How Jesus demonstrates His compassion is a bit surprising to us. It’s not just that His guts hurt. His compassion is so powerful that He is moved to do something to help. But how Jesus helps might be a bit surprising.

Oh, yes – He does show compassion in taking care of their stomachs. With just five little loaves and tow hot-dog sized fish, Jesus prays and begins breaking the food up for distribution. From the little comes much – so much in fact that there are 12 baskets left over.

His compassion is found, chiefly, not in miracles, or exorcisms, the raising from the dead or even in feeding 5000 with a boy’s lunch. 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.

Our compassion can be misguided. It is tempting to look at a crisis moment and thing that we, too, gotta do something. Don’t get me wrong – there is nothing wrong with being moved into action. In fact, many times it is a good thing. But don’t forget the first action of discipleship is to pray – to lift up our eyes to the heavens and commend all things to God’s hands. Pastors are guilty of this, too: we get so caught up in needing to do that we forget that first, we need to stop not do anything of ourselves. Instead, we are to commend all things to the nail-pierced hands of our Savior. A seasoned friend told me years ago, don’t ever forget your chief duty as the church’s priest and lift your people up in prayer. There is a time for action later. Ground your acts of compassion first and foremost in prayer. Pray for faith to be strengthened, grace to be demonstrated, mercy to be granted, love to richly poured out.

And, then, when you act in compassion, know that even small acts of compassion will be multiplied by Christ. Remember – He used a boy’s lunch to feed 5000. And, remember too that the compassion you share is the compassion of Christ that flows through you. When you reach out to others in love, you do so filled with the hands of Christ. When you speak to others in their time of need, you speak with the words of Christ. When you walk along with others in their weakness, you walk with the feet of Jesus. When you show love, you are showing the Christ’s love that He showered upon you and overflows in you to those around you.  It is not us that we share, but Christ.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,
Christ in the eye that sees me,
Christ in the ear that hears me. Amen.

When the Lion Roars - Amos 7:7-15

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The text is Amos 7: 7-15.*

I was watching a TV show the other night where one of the characters was going to Africa for a safari. They were on the hunt for the Big Five: elephant, Cape buffalo, rhino, leopard, and lion. If I were a hunter going on African safari, I want a gun as big as a howitzer. This character – and I use that word in a dual purpose – this character was taking a Canon, alright, but it was a camera, not a gun. It was a photo safari. No thanks. If I am in the same area as animals so big they can turn me into meatloaf, I want firepower. I want something that goes boom not click. Have you ever gotten a close-up look at a lion? He's got those big paws and sharp teeth and when he looks at you, he looks at you like dinner. They’re impressive beasts in the zoo, but face to face in the savannah of Africa? No thanks. I want to keep the lion at arms distance in the cage.[1]

This is what the King Jeroboam, and his priest Amaziah want to do. They want to keep The Lion in the cage. The book of Amos is about God as a Roaring Lion. God has called an unlikely prophet, Amos (previously a shepherd and a vinedresser) to be his voice and roar out with charges against the people of Israel, and especially the King Jeroboam.  

God gives Amos the vision of the plumb line. He standing beside the wall which is Israel and the wall is all out of kilter. The people of Israel have strayed from who God wants them to be and how he wants them to be his people. Corrupt judges rule among the people. They are easily bribed. The poor go without what they need. Immorality of all kinds is rampant. So God roars against Israel. The people are worshiping false gods. High places have been set up for the gods of the Canaanites. And the King Jeroboam, he forgot who is really in charge. Israel was not like the other nations. The King was not supreme, it was to be God. So, God says. You will not escape my justice. I have warned you before. This time destruction is coming. The sword will be raised against the King. God is no small voice here. He's no tame kitty cat. The Lion is coming out of the cage.

But Amos is inviting God's people to be God's people and to live in a different way, God's way. If you're tired of the way things are you are invited you to a new way of life. Where everything is backwards and upside down the last are first and first are last. Where the poor are blessed and mighty ones are cast down. This is the same kingdom that Jesus proclaims when he comes. He says "the kingdom of God is at hand."

Jesus in his life, death, and resurrection brings about this radical kingdom. Amos is talking about Jesus here and the new life that he brings through the forgiveness of sins.

King Jereboam and his priest Amaziah want to keep the cat in the cage. They don't like what Amos is preaching. They see the prophet as a troublemaker. They're not going to change their ways. They can't believe that Amos' words were God's words. So, Amaziah warns Amos, "Shut up, pack up, and saddle up. Get out of town and don’t come back."

Stephen Crane – you probably know him as the author of THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE - wrote this poem titled, “In the Desert.”

In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.

I said, "Is it good, friend?"
"It is bitter - bitter," he answered;
"But I like it
Because it is bitter,
And because it is my heart."

I feel that way about the prophet Amos. I love it because, in many ways, it is bitterly painful to read over and against our modern American Christian mindset. Yet and still, I love it because it is the Word of the Lord and it speaks the Word to my heart.

Much like Israel in the time of Amos, God's word stands against us and accuses us of these very things. We care more for ourselves than the poor. We set up our false gods of our money and our family and our security and our country. We sit quietly in our churches all neighbors all around us go without hearing God's word forgiveness for them in Jesus Christ. And while they suffer under the load of the problems of the world. Amos invites us too, to a way of life that is radically different. A life where the first are last and the last are first. A life where we live for others instead of for ourselves. And sometimes we even tell God to get out. "I don't want to hear your word against me."

Amos refuses to give in. God's word must be heard. He stands in a long line of prophets, Moses and Daniel and Elijah and Elisha and Isaiah and of course he stands before the great prophet Jesus. Jesus is the end-all of all the prophets who stand before the high priest and make the good confession. He does that. He calls everyone into a new life in him, a new life in God the father. A radical life where forgiveness reigns. A radical life that is lived for the sake of others. A new life that he, God himself in human flesh, brings. They couldn't believe that Jesus was God in the flash come to speak his word directly to them. Jesus told them so and they killed him for it.

But in Jesus death on the cross forgiveness of sins is made. He suffers and dies for all the selfishness of the world. Because of his sacrifice we can live a life that is radically different. Through faith in Jesus life death and resurrection we have forgiveness of sins. We have a right relationship with God. Our sins are forgiven, we need not be concerned about our relationship to him. We can live that radical life where we put ourselves last and others first. Where we show God's mercy and love in time of need. And even more so, proclaim the forgiveness of sins in the cross of Jesus Christ for all people. This is the victory won for us by the Lion of the tribe of Judah. This is the new radical way of life we are called to through Holy Baptism, our connection to Jesus Christ and his life his death and his resurrection for us.

Amos, like the prophets before and after him, stands to make the good confession. He speaks God's word to the needy and dying world. He says what must be said. Sinful people deserve God's anger and wrath and punishment. But God is gracious and merciful slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Repent and believe in God's forgiveness.

We stand here in the Valley of Mission – El valle de la mission - and are called to make the same confession. Here we are called by God's Word to bring God's love and mercy to this community where God has placed us.

What does the mission of Zion look like in this community? How do we, as a congregation, take the Good News of Jesus and put skin and bones to that message and carry it into our community? We collect foodstuffs for VCAM – Victoria Christian Assistance Ministries. This is good. But, it’s time we seek a more active way to enflesh the Gospel to those who aren’t part of Zion. We speak of stewardship and usually think of money. But, using our gifts of time and ability are equally important – perhaps more important. It’s easy to write a check and think someone else can do the work of putting that to use. Let’s use our time and ability for the sake of the Gospel.

When I came to visit a year ago, y’all told me about Victoria’s large homeless population. Do you see these people? They aren’t homeless.  They are people who do not have a home. There is a difference in how you think about them. Homeless is a characterization. People who are homeless are bodies and souls who need the love of Jesus given to them.

Volunteer on the 4^th Saturday at Christ’s Kitchen. Zion is the church sponsor that day, but our presence is pretty slim. Spend an hour – roll silverware, prep and buss tables, make a salad, help chop onions, scoop ice for drinks, or simply visit with folks. You might meet someone like Richard – he calls himself “Silky” – who told me the only time he knows he will get a handshake is when he eats there. And, if you’re comfortable, add a blessing or prayer, a word of encouragement. Let them see Jesus in you and hear of Jesus from you. Volunteer at VCAM – help distribute food, clothes, and other essentials to people who need a helping hand. Folks, these people are part of the body of Christ as well. If your heart is inclined to help unwed mothers, and by extension, children who are at risk, the House of Palms is a relatively new program for Victoria area high school juniors and seniors who have become pregnant and don’t have family support. If you know my story, you understand why this one is especially close to myheart. I am happy to help connect you with any of these three important mission ministries in this community and I encourage you to be involved.

You are equipped to do this work. But this is exactly why we gather isn't it? We gather to hear of God's grace and mercy to us, to fill us for this work. You receive in word and water and bread and wine God's forgiveness that frees your conscience. You are enabled by the Spirit of God to use your voice, hands and feet for service in the name of Jesus. We are the body of Christ. We are here to bear one another's burdens. Jesus makes it so in his presence through the work of the Holy Spirit. Martin Luther said about the Lord's supper, "When you go to the sacrament you lay your burden on Christ and the community gathered. When you leave you pick up the burdens of one another and so fulfill the love of Christ." (Martin Luther via Rev. Matthew Harrison). It is the wonder of that gift that enables us to bear the burdens of the community around us. To show God's mercy in their deepest need. And especially to bring them the Good News about the forgiveness of sins one through Jesus Christ on the cross. Amen.

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[1] Let the reader understand: I am making this statement for the purpose of illustration.

* This sermon is based in part on a sermon series published by the Rev. Dr. Reed Lessing entitled "Restore the Roar."

When It's More Than You Can Handle, There is Jesus - Mark 5: 21-43

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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel for this morning.  

You’ve probably heard the seemingly Biblical wisdom shared before: “God will never give you more than you can handle.” It’s used all the time, spoken to someone who just lost their job, or who received a difficult medical diagnosis, or who had a relationship break-up, and to someone whose beloved just passed. “God will never give you more than you can handle.” It’s always spoken with piety, dignity and reverence, as if St. Paul himself were speaking in the moment. And, because it sounds Biblical – in fact, it is sometimes even prefaced with something like, “Remember, the Bible says” – we take it as (literally) Gospel.

Take that sentence and speak it into this morning’s Gospel lesson. Let’s see what it would look like. There stands Jairus whose daughter is dying. “Brother, God’s not going to give you more than you can handle.” Couldn’t you hear Jairus think, “Oh, really? Who is this God who going to make my child die because he thinks I can handle it?” Or, speak it to the woman who struggled with twelve years of blood loss, anemia, and embarrassment; who spent everything she had to try to find a cure with no success. Do you really think giving her those words of counsel will offer her any hope, any help? Do you think she would rejoice at this statement? Here these two people are, one with his daughter literally at the point of death, the other in the depths of medical and social misery, and the best that can be said is God won’t give you more than you can handle? Can Jairus handle his daughter’s death? Can this woman endure any more? It’s not our place to say, of course, but the actions of the father or the woman lead us to believe they are hanging on by much more than a thread and that thread is fraying fast. I would suggest they can’t handle their situation at all. If they could handle it, neither would need Jesus.

Now, to be fair, no one in this text makes this statement. I’m importing a modern phrase into the ancient narrative. But, I am doing so with the purpose of wanting you to think Biblically, Scripturally about the world in which you live and in the context of your lives as Christians in this world. I want you to develop a Biblical worldview, a Biblical lens, if you will, through which you see and hear and think about the things going on and being said around you.

Let me explain.  For the record, I do have Christopher’s permission to share this with you. As most of you know, the last few weeks have been rather tense for my family. Perhaps some of you know the emptiness of having a child who has something medically wrong but we’re not quite sure what it is. Perhaps you know the helplessness of not being able to fix it yourself. Perhaps you know the anxiety of being told that the Xrays and MRIs showed a shadowy area, but were inconclusive, and a biopsy is needed to see what is wrong; of seeing your child cry in fear while wiping away your own tears; of being told a biopsy revealed decaying bone, which was given a multi-syllable word that ended in -oma; and fearing the worst while waiting 40 of the slowest hours ever recorded. Do you know that 40 hours is 2,400 minutes, or almost 200,000 heartbeats? I felt every one as I was standing in the same path as Jairus: a father who was afraid for his son, not because he was dying (I’m not trying to overstate my story) but not knowing what was about to happen.

A well-intended visitor – I can’t remember who it was, but it doesn’t really matter - looked at me and said those mystic words, “Remember, God will never give you more than you can handle.”

I was so emotionally flooded that I was unable to respond. I wasn’t angry at the speaker. When people make comments like this, I think it’s usually because they are in an uncomfortable place in unfamiliar waters. Rather than sitting in silence with the suffering and grieving and fearing, they feel the need to speak.  And, needing to speak, they say what comes to mind and, somehow, this pithy ditty keeps coming to people’s minds and mouths, as they think it’s Holy Writ. I wasn’t angry at the speaker but I remember feeling sad – sad that the speaker, presumably, believed this.

The problem is that this statement isn’t Gospel. Gospel points you to Jesus. This verse reverts the hearer back to him or herself – He won’t give you more than *you* can handle. It’s Law. Worse, it’s not God’s Law. It was never spoken by St. Paul, or Peter or Isaiah or any of the other Biblical writers, either. It’s not even in the Bible. It is a mis-statement of what St. Paul really did say in 1 Cor. 10:13, “God is faithful, He will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.” Hardly the same thing as our modern invention, “He’ll never give you more than you can handle.” It’s not a misinterpretation, it’s a flat-out misstatement. Don’t take my word for it – look it up this afternoon, 1 Cor. 10:13. We accept misstatements like this because we are a biblically illiterate culture and society. God’s words are bent, folded, spindled and twisted into something that he never meant to say. We are so far removed from our Bibles, anymore, that anyone who speaks with pithy, Bible-esque statements gets more credit than the sacred texts themselves.

As a result, people are led away and, unfortunately, even led into despair because the reality is that we cannot bear our burdens by ourselves and it turns God into a sadist who seems to love pushing His people to the edge.

The fact is that we live in a world, quite fallen, that is always dealing us a worse hand than we can handle.  Whether it is illness or unemployment, relationship dissolution or accident, natural disasters or the sinful desires of men, we experience it all.

When you experience these things, the fallenness of this world - and you will! - then follow in the footsteps of Jairus and the woman and look to Jesus. Neither he nor she would turn you back to yourself. They know what it means to not be able to do it yourself. They would turn you to Jesus, in faith, trusting His goodness, love and mercy for you, His dearly beloved. They would turn you to Jesus who emptied Himself fully and completely to the point of death on the cross, carrying the suffering of all of humanity in Himself.  They would point you to Jesus who rose from the dead. As witnesses of Christ’s power, they would point you to Jesus and say, “Trust Him.” He takes your fears, your anxieties, your worries, your concerns, all of it and He drug it into the grave with Him. 

God allows you more than you can handle so that all you can do is trust Jesus. You can’t hang on, you can’t endure, you can’t bear one more thing, so turn to Jesus. Don’t carry it yourself – for that matter, don’t even try. Repent of any foolish idea that you can. Don’t try to be your own Savior. That’s what Jesus came to do – don’t put him out of work. Jairus “fell at [Jesus’] feet and implored Him earnestly.” Instead of trying to bear your burden, let go, put your hands together and pray for Christ’s mercy, grace, strength, and faith. The woman reached out and touched Jesus’ robe as he passed by. Reach out your hands and touch Christ’s body and His blood, given and shed for you – not only for the forgiveness of your sins, but also for the strengthening of faith in Him as the one who can and will rescue.

 You notice what Jesus does, for both Jairus and the woman: He commends their faith. Remember, faith doesn’t do. Faith receives. Faith is the beggar with the empty sack standing in front of God and saying, “I have been baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection. You made me your child in holy Baptism. I trust you will fill my sack with all good things.” And God does that, more abundantly that we could ever ask or imagine. He fills the sack to the top. And when the sack is emptied, because of our sinfulness or the sinfulness of the world, we stand in front of Him again, in repentant faith, and He fills the sack again, never counting the times we return to Him. He lovingly fills us up.

This might seem strange, but I generally enjoy – as much as it is possible – making hospital calls and speaking the Word of God to a hurting, frightened soul, offering prayers and blessing to him or her in a time of crisis and need. It’s a whole different ballgame when it’s your own family member lying in that bed, let me tell you. I didn’t enjoy that at all. Nor did I enjoy listening to the children crying because they were hurt or scared. I could never be a chaplain in a children’s hospital. I knew this lesson was coming up, so I had plenty of time to contemplate it over and against what I was seeing and experiencing. In this Gospel text, Jesus miraculously heals both Jairus’ daughter and the woman. And there was much healing that took place in Dell Children’s hospital. I am very grateful to say that my son is one of those whom the Lord is healing through the hands of a skilled surgical team and phenomenal nurses. But I have to tell you, during those difficult hours of uncertainty, I was turning to Jesus because it was way more than I could handle. While I prayed with the fervor of Jairus that this thing wasn’t – you know, the Big C – I was also holding on to Jesus robe like the woman and I was reminding Jesus of His baptismal promise to my son, that Christopher carried Christ’s own name – Christian – and that there was a space reserved for him into eternity. We, as Christians, tend to be very nearsighted: we see the here and now. God is eternally farsighted. I was trying to see things through His eyes. I could see it - just a glimmer, but it was there. When it's more than you can handle, there is Jesus.

I’m still trying to see things through His eyes. I’ll be the first to admit, it’s much easier today than it was two weeks ago, yesterday, while we were still waiting. But, that’s what we are all doing, isn’t it? We’re waiting for His return. So, let’s wait with a Biblical worldview. Look with me – look past today and tomorrow and tomorrow’s tomorrow. Look into the eschaton with me, look into eternity. Do you see it?

There it is! There will be a day of great rejoicing when all of the tears of this world will be wiped away, the pain and sorrow that goes with it will all cease. On that great day of Christ’s return, you, too, will hear Jesus’ own words, “My child, arise,” and you shall be raised. And with a resurrected hand, you will reach out and touch His robe – not to be healed of illness, because that will already be left behind – but in rejoicing because you will be healed into eternity.

"Did God Really Say..." - Genesis 3:1-7

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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the verses prior to our Old Testament lesson for today, Genesis 3:1-7.

“Did God really say?” The devil loves that question, doesn’t he? He used it with terrible and deadly  effectiveness against Eve and Adam in the Garden of Eden. “Did God really say?” It was such a little question, four little words, innocuous it seemed, at first, but also slightly suggestive: “Maybe God is holding something back from you, Eve, or perhaps you misunderstood Him.” “Did God really say?” It opens the door for suggestion, deliberation and interpretation of what He had said. “Did God really say?” It puts the question into Eve’s mind…a question that had never been there before…and it causes her to wonder, to think, to imagine, “Well…did God say that?”

God’s instruction was simple and clear: Adam and Eve could eat anything and everything in the Garden of Eden except for fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. The devil turned God’s instruction into a question: “Did God really say you can’t eat from any tree in the garden?” Do you hear the implication, the inuendo behind that simple question? It’s as if he is telling Eve, “God must not love you! What kind of unreasonable God is He, expecting you to not eat anything. And, besides, it’s part of His creation – it’s all supposed to be “good,” right? “Did God really say?”

Eve, to her credit, tries to answer with God’s own Word, but she makes a fatal mistake: you don’t argue or debate with the devil. You walk, run, get away any way you can, but you don’t debate the devil because when you do, you get in trouble. It opens the door for further temptation. When the devil sees that one, he jumps in, “Did God really say you’re going to die? Oh, come on…God is love! He’s not going to make you die. Oh…what’s it mean ‘to die’?” You mean, you don’t know? He didn’t tell you? And you don’t know what ‘evil’ is, either? Oh, my…there is so much God isn’t telling you about. You should really be more like God, know. Look at it…doesn’t it look tasty? Just a nibble, just a taste and you’ll know all of these things God isn’t telling you about. Why…you’ll practically be like God!”

Even now, we can see in our imagination what Eve is doing. You can see it in her face, can’t you, looking at the fruit – by the way, the text does NOT say “apple” – looking at the fruit, seeing that it is beautiful, and believing that it was desirable for such wisdom, and balancing that against the question, “Did God really say?” You see the picture, don’t you?

You can see that picture in your mind because, if you look closely, it is the picture of you, regardless of whether you are of Adam’s gender or Eve’s gender. You see yourself in that picture. You’re not staring at a piece of fruit. You staring at something else as the devil whispers in your ear:

“Did God really say ‘you shall not steal’ when it applies to the company you work for? After all, they are worth millions of dollars. It’s no big deal if you spend the morning playing on Facebook, updating your Instagram, and checking  the ballgame scores last night. Leaving early and having your friend clock you out for a “full day?” Everyone does that – especially on Fridays, or Tuesdays, or Mondays for that matter. Work slow; pad the overtime. You’re underpaid and under-appreciated – get your pound of flesh any way you can.”

“Did God really say, ‘Honor your father and mother’? Come on…that doesn’t apply to you. You heard the things they said to you the other night…making you clean your room and put away your own stack of clothes; forcing you to eat good, healthy food, not letting you go watch the movie every other kid in town gets to see with it’s gratuitous sex and violence. Don’t they understand that’s the way the world is? You had every right to blow up Twitter with your rant and those ugly names.”

“Did God really say you can’t have other things you fear, love and trust as much as him, or that you can’t have an intimate relationship with someone other than your spouse, or that you can’t skim on your taxes, or that you can’t hate that so & so who treated you that way, or that you can’t spread those stories about your neighbors on Facebook and your mother-in-law at church? Boy, is he ever old fashioned. The Bible is so…restrictive of your freedom. You ought to ditch the whole thing and do what you want to do, anyway.”

Yes…we see ourselves standing right next to our first parents, taking a nibble of those deliciously tempting things that are before us as well.

It is worth remembering that being tempted is not the same thing as committing the sin. We know this because the Bible tells us that Jesus was tempted in every way as we are, yet remained without sin. The reason that is important is that the devil loves to tempt us to think that, having been tempted, we have already given into sin so we might as well go for broke, so to speak, and just do it. But, at the same time, don’t think you can always clearly define that moment within us when temptation becomes a sin, as if there is a visible line in the sand. As long as you keep your toes on this side of the line, you can play safely with temptation. But where is that line? Is it the moment we begin to debate the temptation, or when we make a decision and a plan to go along with the temptation?

Actually, determining the point when we commit sin isn’t that important. It’s not as if by resisting the temptation we somehow are guiltless, innocent, and holy people. The devil would love us to believe that, wouldn’t he, that somehow we can do this without Jesus. No… Never forget: We are sinners by virtue of who we are as sons and daughters of Adam and Eve. We’re not sinners because we sin; we sin because we are sinners.

Instead of trying to parse the moment of sin, instead stand before Jesus and confess your sins. Repent of the times you listened to the devil’s temptations and doubted God’s Word. Repent of the times we willingly subjected ourselves to the temptations. Repent of the times when we unwillingly, in a moment of weakness, surrendered without even realizing it until it was too late. Repent of all of the times we debated, “Did God really say,” and chose to ignore the truth of the Word of God for the sake of convenience, personal pleasure, someone else’s pain, or popularity.

Repent, but do not despair. In the Gospel lesson today, Jesus plainly said, “Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the children of man, and whatever blasphemies they utter, but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness but is guilty of an eternal sin.” All sins that are confessed in faith are forgiven. Jesus died and shed His blood for all of your sins – all of them! – and His death was the full payment price, that God no longer holds those sins accountable to the Christian. Christ really did say, “Father forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Jesus really did say, “Father into your hands, I commit my spirit.” Your Lord really did say, “It is finished,” and the full debt of sin was paid in full, the redemption price His life, the receipt signed in blood, the gift delivered with His dying “This is most certainly true.”

 When you confess your sins to Christ, you are saying, in effect, “God really did say that I am a sinner, and I know and confess it. But I also know, believe, trust and rely that I have an even greater Savior who took my place.” Confession is the Christian releasing ownership of the sin and commending it to the cross where it was already crucified with Him. That’s all Jesus wants - He wants your sins. Confess them and give ‘em to Him – all of them. Great and small, confess them in faith, believing that they are already forgiven of you even before you ask!

There are some sins, though, that we commit that are so great and so grievous that our Christian conscience is troubled and burdened even after absolution. Make no mistake about it, friends: this is the devil’s greatest temptation. Having lured you into sin with his question, “Did God really say?” he throws it back at you one more time, doubling down, hoping for equal success: “Did God really say…did He say he forgives you?”

All of the temptations we face are serious, but this one is, truly, eternally deadly. This temptation leads us to despair. Despair, fueled by satan feeding our sense of shame and guilt, turns faith into denial that He cannot or will not forgive me. Despair like this turns the Christian against Christ Himself and all of His promises. This denial of faith, or death of faith, of Jesus as Lord and Savior is what is meant by the sin against the Holy Spirit. It is the only unforgivable sin because it literally refuses to let Jesus’s forgiveness be yours; it refuses to release the sins; it refuses to believe Jesus can forgive you. In a worst case scenario, satan can cause a Christian such pain that he or she thinks the only resolution is to take their own life. Please remember, he is the father of lies. He doesn’t care what you do, but your family, friends, and this family of faith does care. If you ever wonder if you have committed this sin, let me assure you that you haven’t. The proof is in the question itself – if you did not have faith in Christ, if you lived as if Jesus wasn’t your savior, you wouldn’t care whether you sinned against Him or not!

So, if this is you, here is the cure: Repent. Confess your sins and leave them with Jesus. Refuse to pull them down from the cross. Trust Him as your Savior and His all-sufficing death and resurrection. Then, live the forgiven life as a child of God.

What does it look like to live as a forgiven child of God? Rejoice – you are forgiven. Be confident – Jesus died for you. Remember your baptism. Live in hope – this is the Amen of the daily life. And, don’t discount the power of prayer. In the Lord’s prayer, we pray, “Lead us not into temptation and deliver us from evil.” What greater evil, what greater temptation do we face than to deny the gifts of God in Christ? And, when your conscience is burdened, repent again. Ask your pastor for private confession and absolution. There’s not much I haven’t heard, and I’ll walk with you, in the name of Jesus.  

The next time you hear the devil whisper, “Did God really say?” look to the cross and say, “Yep. He said I’m forgiven in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”  

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Jars of Clay and Cracked Pots - 2 Corinthians 4:5-12

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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Epistle, 2 Cor. 4: 5-12.

What’s the most important thing that you possess? How do you protect it?

We protect things that are valuable to us. The United States Constitution and Declaration of Independence are housed in special cases filled with inert gas and illuminated with special lights to preserve the documents. The President of the United States and foreign dignitaries are protected by highest levels of technological and physical, armed security. The average Joe Citizen will never get to touch the Stanley Cup, or the College football championship trophy. We visited some friends yesterday for their son’s graduation and they live in a gated community with armed security guards. We keep great-grandma’s wedding ring in the safe, we keep the title to the ranch in a safety deposit box at the bank, we keep dad’s old shotgun in a locked case, we lock our doors and cars.  We strap on our Colts and Smith and Wessons before we head out the door. Why? To protect these things that are important to us personally, nationally, and as a society.

What’s the most important thing that you possess? How do you protect it?

With that in mind, it is remarkable to me that the single, most important thing that the world has ever seen, known, or received stands without any protection at all. You can see it anytime you want, you can hear of it, receive it, literally take it into yourself. It’s quite literally, at this moment, at your fingertips, dancing in your ears, rolling around your brain. This remarkable gift, of greater worth than gold, is Jesus.

Jesus Christ, the only Son of God, begotton of the Father from eternity, true God who takes on true flesh to live and die for us – this is the greatest gift the world will ever know. That in the fulness of time, God sent His Son to die for us, that while we were still sinners Christ came to die for us. That Jesus Christ, the innocent son of God, takes our sins into Himself, making our sins His own, taking our place under the cross, going to the cross to die the sinner’s death, literally suffering hell on earth at the abandonment of His Father, dying for your sins and for my sins. The result? Perfect payment for imperfect people whom the Father declares holy in His Son’s innocent suffering and death that we might be His own.

This “knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ Jesus” is the greatest treasure we will ever know.   Remember, we talked about this two weeks ago – it’s not just “head knowledge,” but the entirety of knowing, (+) believing, trusting and relying on the mercy of God in Christ.

Paul says “we have this treasure (the good news of Jesus) in jars of clay.”  Clay jars served their purpose for holding water or wine, soups and stews, grains and flours, like our Rubbermaid containers today. Their value was in their purpose: to hold things for the owner until the owner had use of them. Our purpose, then, is to contain – to hold – the Gospel of Jesus until He places us where the Gospel needs to be poured out.

This is a piece of a clay jar from the ancient city of Corinth, dated to about 500 years before Paul. I imagine it was rather pretty in it’s day. It’s about a half-inch thick, so it was rather substantial. Maybe this was like one of the stone jars that Jesus used to change water to wine, holding about 25 gallons. No doubt it was once useful. But now, just a broken piece of ancient history, it sits on my shelf – just a knickknack. It can no longer do what it was meant to do: hold things.

The temptation is for us to think of ourselves in this way, especially when we get broken. I hear this often from the elderly or the infirm who are bed-ridden in hospitals, nursing homes, and even in their own house: what good am I? Why is God leaving me here? I can’t do anything? It’s as if they are looking at themselves and no longer seeing jars of clay, just cracked pots. Our culture has a simple solution for cracked pots of people: throw them away. Abort children who might face physical or mental difficulty, euthanize the elderly so they aren’t a burden on our healthcare system. Afraid of growing old, or developing Alzheimers or getting cancer? Travel to one of several Eurpoean countries where they actively advertise suicide tourism – “Come here, visit here, die here.” Lord, have mercy.

Remember – the value isn’t in what you do at all. A jar doesn’t do anything except contain. It’s a passive purpose. Your value in the eyes of God isn’t what you do. It’s what has been done in you. Your value is that you contain both the death and life of Jesus in your body. Your body declares the wonder of Christ’s mercy and grace for you. Baptized into Christ, you died with Christ; baptized into Christ, you were raised with Christ. Your life is no longer your own – it is Christ’s. This is why Paul can say, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down but not destroyed.” In our lives as vessels of the Gospel, we will be chipped by people who hurt us, we will be scratched by those who despise the message we share, we will be displaced by those who don’t want to hear what we have to say, but that doesn’t change whose we are: we are vessels of Christ, filled with the joyous news of Jesus as Lord.

There is a story that was told of a pastor who went to Europe shortly after World War 2. He was visiting a small village seeing the destruction that had taken place during the war and the rebuilding efforts that were underway. He came to a church that was still under reconstruction. What caught his attention wasn’t the blow-out wall, or the burned roof, or the bullet-marked walls. What caught his eye was the statue of the saint that the chapel was named for – perhaps it was St. Andrew, I don’t remember, that was located inside the narthex of the chapel. This statue was, obviously, the victim of the war: the lower legs had been blown off, so the torso had been repositioned and reseated in plaster. The arms had been hit, and the left hand was missing at the wrist, the right hand at the elbow. The face, though, was particularly troubling – a piece of shrapnel had taken the lower part of the face from below the nose to the neck. Frankly, it was a hideous statue. As this pastor stood, staring, at this grotesque statue, somebody in the village stopped to say hello. The pastor asked why this statue of the saint was allowed to stand; why it hadn’t been destroyed and replaced with a better figure of the saint. The villager smiled and explained that they wanted that statue left, as it was discovered, on purpose. It stood to remind ever worshipper who came and left the church that he or she, regardless of their physical condition, still stood as a witness of the Good News of Jesus, and that just as this broken, shattered and disfigured statue was saved from the war, so each person – regardless of their brokenness, or shattered heart, or disfigured body – was saved by Christ Himself.

I realize that this story is a mixed metaphor – a statue vs a clay jar – but the point is the same. “For we who live area always being given over to death for Jesus sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh.” In the name of Jesus. Amen.