More Than a Sign at a Football Game - John 3:16

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

You’ve seen signs that say, simply, John 3:16. It’s written on single pieces of paper, spray painted onto bedsheets and hung from the sides of football fields, printed on bumper stickers, worn on T-shirts and even on signs and knick-knacks on our own walls and shelves. For most of us, we can automatically recite those 25 words from the King James Version of the Bible without even having to think about it. I bet I could wake you at 2am and, after you got over the shock of me being in your bedroom at 2am, you could say it without missing a word. That’s part of the issue, isn’t it? John 3:16 is memorized, minimized, commercialized, and economized down to simply “The Gospel in a nutshell.”

Don’t forget, John 3:16 begins with a story, a narrative, of a man who comes to Jesus in the middle of the night. Nicodemus is a Pharisee, an expert in the Law. He can measure out one’s standing over and against God’s Law, and he can meter out judgement against those who miss the mark of God – or, at least, who miss the standards of self-righteousness set by the Pharisees.

Nicodemus calls Jesus, “Rabbi.” Rabbi means, simply, teacher, but it indicates a nod of respect to Jesus for His ability and wisdom as a scholar. Further, Nicodemus admits that Jesus must be from God – not as much because of His wisdom, although that is probably part of it, but because of the signs Jesus does. In the Gospel of John, “signs” means “miracles.” Nicodemus’ night-time visit to Jesus is early in Jesus ministry. John has only recorded one sign, one miracle, by this time: changing water to wine. Nicodemus recognizes that there are plenty of rabbis who teach, some better than others, but no one can do miracles, like the water-to-wine at Cana, unless He is of God.

Nicodemus is a man filled with questions. I take him with full sincerity, that this visit to Jesus is done with a search for the truth. On the one hand, there is what the Pharisees teach and believe about the necessity of maintaining and keeping the Law, but on the other hand is this new teaching Jesus offers and, if He is from God, what does that mean for him and the rest of the people of Israel? Nicodemus comes to Jesus under the cover of night, of darkness, so he is able to sneak in, unnoticed by others – including other Pharisees who might wonder what he is doing entering Jesus’ presence. He is a juxtaposition of two beliefs, two theologies – one of Law and one of Gospel – standing at a crossroad where one or the other must give.

Sign? You need a sign, Nicodemus? I’ll give you a sign, but not one that you are expecting. If you, like Nicodemus, need a sign, a miracle from God, nook no further than your Baptism. With water and Word, there is new birth, a new life of faith conceived by the Spirit of God. This is not your doing anymore than a newborn baby has anything to do with his conception or her birth. In fact, the baby is content to remain right where he or she is: in the mother’s womb, warm, safe, nourished. The mother’s body does all the work, delivering a new life into the world by way of water and blood. Likewise, the spirit of God does all of the work bringing a person to faith through water and Word. As life is a gift of God delivered through the mother, so new life, the baptized life, is a gift of God delivered by the Spirit. God does the work, God does the saving, God does the new-birthing. I don’t remember being born, but here I am. Likewise, you don’t have to remember when you were baptized or recognize the moment that faith was created in you. It’s not your doing. You are simply the recipient of the gift of God.

It’s as if Jesus asks his nighttime guest, “Do you still need another sign, Nicodemus?  I’ll give you a sign – but not the sign, not the miracle, you are expecting tonight. You’re an expert in the Law of Moses, so I’ll give you a sign from Moses instead. When the people rebelled and complained against God, God sent fiery serpents as punishment for their sins. When they repented and cried out to Moses to intercede to God to help, God responds in mercy. But, God does not remove the snakes. Instead, He tells Moses to construct a bronze serpent – a type of the very instrument of God’s punishment – and suspend it on a pole. When an Israelite was bitten by a snake, they were to look to the bronze serpent. It wasn’t the bronze serpent that would save – it was just a sculpture. It was the promise of God that saved.

So, Nicodemus, if you want a sign, look not at a serpent but at the Son of Man for the Son of Man must be lifted up, not on a bronze pole, but on rough-hewn wooden cross where He will die for the sins of the world. “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

Did you play the game with your children when they were babies where you would raise their arms while slowly saying “soooooooo big” and then bring their arms down? Or, maybe you would do this, spread your arms out while saying, “I love you sooooooooo much.” If I asked you, “How great is the Father’s love for us?” I suspect many of you would answer like that: God loves us sooooo much. That’s not what Jesus means. It’s not a quantitative description of the breadth or depth or width of God’s love. If you want a quantitative description, here it is: it is boundless, without end or limit. Instead, Jesus is describing the quality of God’s love. God loved us in this way: He sent His Son, His only Son, His holy, sinless Son to die for His sin-stained, unholy children who rebelled against Him. “You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly... But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Rom 5:6-8)

Remember, Nicodemus came to Jesus at night. Through the course of John’s Gospel, he continues to reappear, slowly emerging from the darkness, then from the shadows, then into the open. Later, he will question his own Pharisees and Saducees, inquiring whether they have given Jesus a fair hearing (7:50). Finally, when Jesus dies after being suspended like Moses’ serpent, Nicodemus dares to ask permission to take Jesus’ body and bury it with the 75 pounds of expensive spices he purchased (19:39). Nicodemus, by the power of the Holy Spirit who moved like the wind, creating, growing, and sustaining faith in Nicodemus, was able to move from private, nighttime discussion to public witness. It took time, and the gracious working of God. 

That is the picture I want you to remember as you leave this house of God and head to your own homes, your places of work, your schools, and your places of rest.

It is more difficult to have a faithful and faith-filled conversation today with people around us – especially people we don’t know, and people with whom we have disagreements. Some have disagreements with the church’s social positions. Others cannot grasp the church’s teaching on life, or grace, or marriage, or love. Some simply hold disdain that the church has been a voice in the darkness.

That means that this most public of verses may need to be examined and encountered in private ways. It will be in personal relationships where God will work through His Word. There may be late night, or early morning, or lunchtime conversations. Some simply think the Bible is a list of things they have to do to please God, as if John 3:16 read, “So that God loves me, I must…” As Spirit-filled people of God, you instead get to tell them, “No… God so loved you that you may have eternal life.” And you point them, not to a serpent on a pole, but to the Savior of the world on the cross.

 And, some will not be easy. I began by asking you to remember the signs you’ve seen with John 3:16 printed on it. If you want easy, go print a sign on your computer, buy a T-shirt, or slap a bumper sticker on your Dodge. To enter into private conversation, however, is to boldly follow the spirit of God. It takes trust – not just in the Spirit providing what to say, but also a relationship of trust where you trust the other person and he or she is able to trust you to listen to their words and their thoughts before demanding they listen to you.

In you, through you, the Spirit of God blowing through you like the gentle wind, Jesus delivers His gifts. He has come, not to condemn the world, but to save it. His death was public for all to see. His resurrection was public for all to believe. He choses to save the world, one soul at a time, in ways that are public, yes, but also in ways that are intimate and private. He chooses to be found in your private and personal conversations. In you, through you, in the Word you speak, through the Word you speak, He changes lives to change the world.

Being Tempted to Death - Matthew 4:1-11

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

As modern, North Americans Christians, we live in a culture that has often lost sight of the holy and the sacred. God’s name and the name of Jesus are tossed around like any other word of exclamation. The church is often seen as a bunch of restrictionist thinkers who aren’t open to new ideas and stand in the way of personal freedom and choice. God and His Word is dismissed as just one interpretation of sacred truths. Theology as God’s plan of salvation has been replaced with therapeutic moralistic deism – where God is basically a feel-good deliverer of attaboys who can be called by whatever name you want him (or her) to be.

The flip side is also true, our culture has also lost sight of what is unholy and sinful. Things are no longer spoken of as being against the will of God, as sins, as being evil and wicked. Instead, we hear of mistakes, accidents, and choices which are all judged over and against the sliding spectrum of conventional wisdom instead of the unchanging and unshifting Word of God.

As a result, we no longer hear of temptation as being anything serious. Just consider how the word is used in our culture and society. Unless you are in the Lord’s house, “temptation” has lost the connection with sins and dangerous, damning choices. Instead, it seems more like a fun, flirty choice: “I’m tempted to try a piece of that chocolate cake with fudge icing and caramel sauce…”  “I don’t really need a new cell phone, but that new one is just so tempting…” “The company made me an offer for a new position and I’m tempted to say yes…”  And, it’s not that using the word in these contexts is bad, necessarily, but because that’s all we hear in our daily lives, we become inoculated against what it really means and the significance of temptation.

So, when we face real temptation, temptation by the world in which we live, temptation by our own sinful nature, or even by satan himself, we are caught with our defenses lowered. For example, we are so inundated with pictures of scantily clad underwear models that our minds wander into lustful thoughts and we hardly slow down. A few years ago, I saw a flyer for a woman’s underwear company that was marketing directly to teenagers with a product line called “the date collection,” the assumption being – apparently – that her date will be seeing it, sooner or later. We are bombarded with advertisements for the newest tech and when we see friends who have those devices while ours are adequate but old, and we become covetous, trying to figure out how to get one ourselves. Conventional wisdom says everyone is hooking up these days and living together without marriage, so what’s the big deal?

So when we hear this morning’s readings from Genesis and Matthew, the temptation of Adam and Eve, and the temptation of Jesus, it is tempting – please pardon my use of the word in this manner – to misunderstand and misapply these readings for ourselves. I suppose we would be tempted to read the narrative of Adam and Eve and dismiss it as they should have known better. After all, they had a perfect, intimate relationship with God, walking and talking with Him in the cool of the day. Shame on her and him for listening to that cunning and crafty serpent who misled them. It is tempting for us to sit back in our modern, sophisticated 21^st century milieu and think we would have know better. Likewise, it would be tempting for us to misunderstand Jesus’ temptation at the hands of the devil, and either think it was  a set-up – that the devil coulnd’t possibly tempt Jesus – or that it’s nothing more than a how-to-defeat-the-devil demonstration, that if you just have enough Bible verses in your hip pocket, so to speak, you can beat up the devil, too.  

Let the narrative of Adam and Eve show you the truth of the dire consequences of being tempted to go against the will and Word of God. Let Adam and Eve tell you want it is to lose the perfect relationship with God. Let Adam and Eve speak to you about what it is to stand and attempt to do battle with the devil, daring to go one-on-one against the father of lies. Let Adam and Eve tell you the sheer sorrow of knowing that because of their moment of weakness, all of creation ever since that forbidden moment has had to suffer. Let Adam and Eve tell you what it is to have no need to know what “evil” is, only to find out first-hand; to have only joy in hearing the Lord’s drawing near, and to suddenly be afraid.

Let Adam and Eve tell you about what it was to only know their bodies as beautiful, and to suddenly be ashamed of their nakedness; let them tell you about seeing God’s compassion for them – even after their sinful weakness - demonstrated by clothing them and protecting them from the weather that, suddenly, was going to no longer be friendly; let Adam and Eve tell you what it was to watch God slaughter animals that they had named, to hear their cry of death, and then be wrapped with their skin, the animal’s skin constantly touching their skin, reminding them of what they had done. Ask them what it was to watch a life taken so that they might survive; let Adam and Eve tell you what it is to watch death for the first time. Suddenly, temptation becomes very real; giving into temptation is no longer blasé; the burden of surrendering to satan’s tempting lie is grasped; and the reality of the wages of sin is death is clearly understood.

Temptation is very real, with very real consequences.

When Jesus stands in the wilderness, He does so as a second Adam, fully susceptible to the devil’s temptations. And, don’t be misled by the seeming simplicity of these temptations, either. This is about more than food, or a flying leap, or bowing the knee. Names mean things; devil is Greek and satan is Hebrew but both mean “accuser” – think of the prosecutorial district attorney, and you have the idea. Put this temptation in context: it happens immediately after Jesus baptism, where the Father’s voice spoke over Him declaring Jesus to be His beloved Son. Satan is accusing the Father of not being very Fatherly. The evidence he offers is the Father seemingly leaving His Son to starve to death, leaving Him alone with the devil, letting Him fend for Himself. The charge: He’s not Fathering you at all, Jesus. Take matters into your own hands. Feed yourself; oh, you trust the Father to feed you? Let’s see that trust - demonstrate it by jumping off the top of the temple. Oh, and your Father’s plan of glorifying you at the cross? How about the glory of the world instead…so much less painful, so easy to do. Do you really trust your Father with your life at the cross, Jesus?

Each temptation, Jesus, as the Son of Man, turns to the same Word of God that you and I have. This is not to model for us how we are to do battle, but to stand in our place. Fully God, yes; but more than that, also fully man Jesus faces the Devil’s temptations without using His Divine glory and power. He uses the same gift you and I have: the Word of God and His baptism.

Immediately prior to His temptation, Jesus is baptized. As water drips off of Him, the Spirit descends in the form of a dove and the voice of the Father is heard: this is My beloved Son. In this baptism, done to fulfill all righteousness, His holiness is washed into Baptismal water and the sins of the world are poured onto Him. But, so that He can be a high priest to understands our weaknesses of the flesh, He is also truly tempted in His human flesh.



Even though Jesus perfectly resists and defeats satan’s temptations, Jesus must pay the consequences of our failure to resist, our submission to that which allures us. There must be a cross. There must be suffering and death. There must be blood-payment. Someone – a Lamb, a perfect, holy, spotless Lamb, the very Lamb of God - must die. His death cry, “It is finished!” rattled from his throat. The sacrifice was complete.  

So, when you fall into temptation and you confess that which tempted and lured you into sinful thoughts, words, and actions, you have a Savior who stands in your stead, who perfectly resisted those very same temptations for you, who faced Satan’s lies that your sinful status might somehow disqualify you from sonship. That Savior stands as your advocate before the Father. Where the devil is the accusatory prosecutor against you, arguing your sins deserve to spend eternity with him in hell, Christ – the living, breathing, resurrected and holy Savior stands as your defense, your advocate, and places Himself in the mercy seat before the Father where His blood was shed for you. He takes you and wraps you, not in His skin, but in His holiness and covers you so fully and so completely via your Baptism that all the Father can see is innocence. Your sins, your surrender to the temptations of this world, your own flesh, and the accuser, are all covered. You, through the merits of your brother and your Savior, who stood in your place, are declared holy, sinless, and righteous.

There’s a word for that. It’s called “Justified.” It is a legal declaration that you are innocent of all charges. In theological language, it means God sees you just-as-if-you-never sinned.

This changes our perspective. We no longer see temptation as something of a punchline. It’s a serious luring of the child of God into sin, something which we seek to avoid, something we try to flee from – averting eyes, ears, and all our senses from those things that would lure us away from God in His grace. We resist, by the power of the Holy Spirit, given us in our Baptism. Yet, we do so knowing that when we fall, when we fail, when we do surrender into satan’s lies, we do so still as children of God. And, when the father of lies tries to condemn us, “if you are a child of God, you wouldn’t have done that,” you respond in faith, “Because I am a child of God, I am sorry for what I have done and I trust as God’s child, for the sake of Christ, even this is forgiven.”

Jesus' Transfiguration - Matthew 17:1-9

Peggy Noonan, a regular contributor to the wall Street Journal, reflected on a book written by former Secretary of State Dean Acheson who served under President Harry Truman at the end of World War 2. The war was over; now what? No one knew. “Everyone is in the dark, looking for a switch. When you’re in the middle of history, the meaning of things is frightfully unclear. In real time, most things are obscure. ‘Only slowly did it dawn upon us that the whole world structure and order that we had inherited from the 19^th Century was gone’. World War 2, Cold War, post-Cold War, and now today – a new normal has emerged and continues to emerge…we just don’t know yet what it is.” (Concordia Seminary Magazine, Spring 2017, p. 5).

In the dark, looking for a switch. That’s a good image, isn’t it, for how it feels some days? We want to be better Christians, we want to read our Bibles more, we want to pray more faithfully, we want to be better husbands, wives, kids, we want to be more faithful in worship. Noble desires, but they lead us to think we gotta do something about it, we gotta fix it, we gotta make ourselves into better children of God. It’s as if you are trying to earn God’s attaboys and attagirls for what you’re doing.  

There’s a term for this idea that you gotta do something. It’s called “functional atheism.” Now, don’t mis-understand me. I’m not calling anyone here an atheist. I said functional atheism. Let me explain.

Functional atheism – as best as I can determine, this was coined by social observer Parker Palmer (ibid) -  is the misunderstanding that ultimate responsibility for everything rests with us. It’s the unconscious, unexamined conviction that if anything good is going to happen, we are the ones who are going to be making it happen. If, by definition, an atheist is a person who disbelieves or lacks belief in the existence of God or gods, a functional atheist is a Christian who acts as if they are greater than God. Either He isn’t doing what needs to be done, or He’s taking such a long time going at it that I can speed things up by doing it for Him. It’s the equivalent of putting God in a retirement home and telling Him He’s no longer needed. Not literally, of course – just functionally.

I submit that Peter is acting as a functional atheist.

When you go home today, read Matthew 16 and you’ll see what I mean. In the middle of chapter 16, Peter confesses Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God (16:16) and Jesus praises this confession as being heaven-sent. But when Jesus speaks clearly and plainly that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer and die at the hands of the Jewish leaders, Peter stands, and with the same mouth that confessed Jesus as the Son of God, rebukes Jesus. “This shall never happen to you, Lord!” he said. Peter doesn’t want Jesus to die, I can understand and sympathize with that emotion, but he has forgotten that this is what Jesus has come to do: be the once for all sacrifice for the world’s sins.

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

Matthew simply states that Moses and Elijah were talking with Jesus. Luke, however, gives us the fuller report. Elijah and Moses “spoke of Jesus’ departure, which He was about to accomplish in Jerusalem.” In other words, they were speaking about His Passion, that He must suffer at the hands of the chief priests and scribes, be crucified, and with his death pay the full wages of sin with his own death.

No, no, no…not that crucifixion talk again, not that death talk, not that dying at the hands of the leaders. Peter was not ready for Jesus to go down to the valley of the shadow. If he could delay Jesus, if He could impede His descent from the holy mountain down to where Jesus’ enemies would be waiting, then all would be well. Peter has the chance to do something, to step in, to stop – or at least stall – Jesus from going back down the mountain. Peter’s not an atheist – he has just confessed Jesus as the Christ, remember? – but he has go to do something! Our translation says Peter offers to make tents, but the better translation is tabernacles – think Old Testament tent of worship. Surely that will be acceptable and pleasing to Jesus. Peter can be a first century Solomon who builds a tabernacle in which Jesus might dwell along with Moses and Elijah so that they can all stay up on the mountain and live happily ever after. No death…no dying…none of that stuff we don’t want to talk about.

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

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

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

But we are not there, yet. First, we must listen to Him, and He says He must go down the mountain into the valley of the shadow. With Jesus we will descend the Mount of Transfiguration. We will journey with Jesus to the cross. But more than that, know that Jesus journeys with you as you carry your own cross this Lententide.

I am always amazed at Jesus’ action. He doesn't rub their faces in the dirt for dismissing Him and not listening to Him. He touches Peter and James and John. I imagine it as a firm, but gentle, grip on the arm, the kind of touch that says both “I love you,” but also gives direction. "Get up and don't be afraid." He doesn't leave them in their fear to teach them a lesson. No, He says, "Get up and leave your fears down there."  When the disciples lift up their eyes, Luke says, they saw no one but Jesus only.

Look to Jesus. It’s not as if He’s in a glass case labeled “Break Glass In Case of Emergency.” He is Christ is the Son of the Living God who has come into the world to rescue and redeem sinners like you, and like me, and Peter. He Look to Jesus  who stood on the Mount of Transfiguration and prepared to go to the cross for you.

Get up my friends. We're going down from this mountain with Jesus alone, and Jesus is enough. We're going with Him to dark Gethsemane, darker Calvary, and brighter Easter. When your sins burden you, look up and see Jesus only. Amen.

Blessed are the Poor in Spirit - Matthew 5:1-4

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

“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

What does it look like to be poor in spirit? Good question. We are well aware with the poor – or, perhaps I should say, we have an idea of what the poor might entail. The government and academics have their criteria of what it takes to be classified as “poor,” but all it takes is a little observation to see. It’s been quite the topic in Victoria the last few months, with the controversy regarding people who are homeless and, presumably, poor. The poor are the people who live over on that side of town, or who live in those apartments, or who sit at the bus stop waiting for a ride to the dollar value shop to pick up a few things for a meager meal with their Lone Star Card. The poor line up for a weekly free meal at Christ’s Kitchen, for a bag of groceries at the food pantry, and for a utility voucher at VCAM. We look at  people standing at the loop and on street corners, signs begging for food or a few dollars, sometimes chuckling at a WAG’s sarcasm or wit -  “This sign is all my wife’s attorney left me” – or raw honesty – “Who are we kidding? A buck buys a Natty Lite.” Then, of course, there are those who are considered the working poor – there’s actually a fascinating book by David Shipler by that title - the ones who work minimum wage or so-called “dead-end” jobs with no possibility of ever getting ahead in life. But more often, we either stare straight ahead while pretending those folks – those people! – don’t exist, or we give them dirty looks that say, “Get a job, get an education, figure it out.”  These people are usually easy to identify and we generally keep them at at least a window’s distance from us.

That’s a sermon for another day.

Jesus speaks here, not of the poor but of the poor in spirit. Poverty of spirit is sometimes harder to see; it’s easier to hide spiritual poverty because a person’s conscience cannot be seen. But just like fancy clothes and a nice car can hide a business person’s bankruptcy – at least for a while – a person can put up a façade to make everyone think they are spiritually filled when, in reality, they are spiritually broke, broken, and busted.

So, what does the poor in spirit look like? Let me tell you about a man who I will call Peter. I’ve known Peter for a while, now, and we’ve had many interesting conversations. We have talked about our families, cooking, caring for others, and our churches. He’s a faithful Christian man, and he’s asked me Bible questions and requested prayers for himself and family. We saw each other, across the room, at the HEB Feast of Caring but we didn’t talk – he was busy hustling plates of food to hungry people. I know him as a faithful man of God.

Last week, I saw him in a new way. I saw him as a former king bee drug dealer of Victoria county. Since he was 10 years old, he and his sister were major coke and marijuana movers. They did it to survive because their parents were drug dealers, too, and between one thing and another – sometimes including run-ins with the law – the kids were often left at home and hungry. They sold drugs to buy food, at first, and clothes, but as the business grew to be more and more lucrative, their spending grew. It was nothing, he said, to drop two, three thousand dollars before lunch time because they knew they would make it all back and then some before they went to bed that night. They didn’t use – they were smart enough for that – but they still got in trouble. A deal went bad and he had a loaded shotgun waved in his face. He watched customers and a few friends die. He got picked up the first time by the police in a raid when he was a young teenager; a few years later, he got popped a second time. Lesson learned, right? He swore this time it would be different, and he would go straight, but the siren song of wealth from the old life and the financial need of the new life would rise up again and he would sell. All the while, he was going to church on Sunday mornings to hear the Word being read and preached, looking for a word of hope, comfort, help. “You know what, Pastor,” he told me. “I was tithing my drug money. The preacher probably knew it was from drugs, but he never took it out of the collection plate.”

Last week, as we visited, he told me he had long left that lifestyle behind. He and his wife work hard, each day, to make ends meet. He has a good job, and she works for kind and understanding people. They are attentive parents and are vigilant to make sure their kids don’t go down the road he journeyed down twenty years ago. They watch out for the kids friends, too, and they know where their kids are after school. They go to church, are active in the church caring ministry, and he reads his Bible every day. But there were days, he said, when the bills were mounting and the car breaks and the kids need clothes and the doctor’s bills are adding up that he and his wife think about the old lifestyle and how easy it would be, how tempting it is, to do it again, to make money, to be physically comfortable again. It’s not what he wants to do, but it seems like he needs to – just to take care of his family.

But as he talked, I could see him physically deflate. He was filled with sorrow and remorse at what he had done: to himself, to his family, to those he sold drugs to. He was filled with sadness at being tempted by the love of money, the desire for wealth and an easier life. He was absolutely crushed by the shame and guilt of what he had done, and was terrified at how strong the temptations are to go back to that life. He began weeping. “And, pastor, what does God think of me? I am so ashamed…”

Sometimes a sermon comes to life, not behind a desk with theological books nearby and an open study Bible. Sometimes it is preached, not from a pulpit, but across a coffee room, with two people sharing a Word of comfort and hope from Jesus.

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” I said. He looked at me. I repeated it again: “Blessed are the poor in spirit.”

I explained that the poor in spirit are those who know, without any doubt, just how desperately they need Jesus. The poor in spirit are spiritually bankrupt. They aren’t bad people. The poor in spirit come from all walks of life, from both sides of the tracks, regardless of the thickness of their wallet or the heft of the bank account, whether they have a 5000 acre spread or can’t afford the dirt stuck to the bottom of their shoes . The poor in spirit are children of God who realize just how sinful and sin-filled they are. They realize they can’t fix it, they can’t stop it, they can’t make it right. They are spiritually destitute and have no resources of their own. All they have is Jesus.

“The fact is, I told him, that everyone is poor in spirit. No one has enough of a spiritual portfolio to offer to the Lord in exchange for their freedom. No one has enough credit to pay off sin’s debt. No one has enough capitol to free themselves. The difference is that the poor in spirit who turn to Jesus are made whole.

“What the poor in spirit do have is to hear, receive and believe the Lord’s call to repent for the kingdom is at hand. In repentance, they admit it: they are poor in spirit. They repent: they are lost. They confess: they are sinners who are spiritually bankrupt with nothing to offer, hands that are empty and open like a beggar’s sack. And, in faith, they hold out those open hands to Jesus, who for our sakes, became poor, taking on the very nature of a servant. Not just any servant, but a suffering servant, a substitutionary servant who takes the place of the poor in spirit, dying the sinner’s death and declaring the debt paid in full with His blood.

Jesus calls the poor in spirit “blessed.” Some translations try to make this read “happy,” but that’s not good at all. Happiness is a feeling. A cup of coffee makes me happy; watching my dog race around the yard makes me happy, finishing a sermon on Thursday makes me happy. A blessing is a gift of God, a declaration, a statement that announces to the world, “This is true.” In the Beatitudes, Jesus declares His children are blessed in the situation, not from the situation.  In fact, when Jesus uses the word in Matthew’s Gospel, it almost always means “Saved” or “Redeemed.” It’s as if Jesus is saying, “The poor in spirit are saved, therefore the kingdom of heaven is theirs!”

I leaned back, finished with the impromptu sermon. As I told him this, it was as if a tremendous weight being lifted from his shoulders: he began to sit up, his face began to rest easy. I had one more thing to do: I said, “For the last hour you have been confessing to me all that you have done wrong in the past life of drugs. You told me about how it has broken your heart time and time again, the guilt and shame you continue to carry around to this day. You spoke of the sorrow you have as a child of God for all you did against God and against others. Now, it is my privilege as a servant of Christ to share a blessing of God with you.

I said, “Where once, a crown may have been a symbol of your sin-stained trade, you are now given a new crown – the crown of Christ crucified, who wore a crown of thorns for you. He took your poverty of spirit and He fills you with the riches of His grace. And, so you know this - I leaned forward, put my hands on his head - and I spoke the full words of absolution over him. As I pronounced the triune name of God, I made the sign of the cross on his head declaring sins forgiven in the name of the Father and of the Son and the Holy Spirit.

In that moment, the poor in spirit became wealthy in Christ, and all the riches of heaven – given to Peter in his baptism - were again refreshed in his eyes. Peter and his wife will probably still will struggle, but he does so knowing that their sins are forgiven for the sake of Jesus. Amen.

Be A Domino for Jesus! John 1: 29-42

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson, John 1:29-42.

This morning, I want to give you an image to keep in mind as we consider the Gospel reading. I want you to have in mind donimoes. No, not the pizza. Dominoes – you know, bones, tiles, dominoes – the kind you use to play Mexican train, 42, or straight dominoes, made from wood, plastic, or even pressed cardboard. Dominoes. The little tiles with dots. But now, I want you to have a specific image  - not just any dominoes…dominoes standing up at attention, on their short end, in a long row, precisely spaced about an inch apart, winding their way across the floor, around furniture, stretching way out for a long time.

Now you’ve probably done that before. You stand them up and wind them around, maybe even getting fancy, doing tricks, having lines split into two or even three branches, all the while being oh-so-careful to not bump one and undo all your hard work. Finally, with the last domino in place, you then go back to the beginning and push the first over and you watch and listen. Click, click, click – you know the sound – click, click, click, picking up the pace as they soon become a steady clickclickclick as domino after domino tips into another and falls. If you’ve done it right, the entire train of dominos tips and clicks and falls into place – an impressive sight, an impressive feat. Each single domino is important in this process. One out of place, one not spaced correctly, and the pattern comes to a stop. But, while each domino is important, each domino is just a small part of something that is much larger than the one, individual domino.

Now, there’s a thought: being a small part of something very large, that moves from beginning to end. That’s not a bad way, a bad textual way to think of this morning’s reading and, by God’s unexpected mercy and grace, that we may also think that way of ourselves as we, too, have a very small part of something very large.

That’s the way John’s Gospel is. It starts so big – the beginning was the Word, the Word was with God, the Word was God, He was in the beginning with God… - the scope eternal, constant, complete. Then, it gets even bigger. The greatest, biggest event since the world began: the Word became flesh. Not only was the Word there in the beginning, but the Word became a man. He who was in the beginning began anew.

That’s what the first 18 verses are all about, something very, very, very large. Then in v. 19, the process begins. It’s made of very small, seemingly insignificant pieces. John the Baptizer – not the Christ, not the Messiah, not Elijah, just a voice, just the voice crying in the wilderness, but he’s nothing, really…just a voice. And, then, v. 19, the next day, John calls out Behold – God’s Lamb who is taking away the sin of the world. Click.

Then v. 35, the next day, John bumps into two small pieces, two of his own disciples - one who is named Andrew – “Look, God’s Lamb!” Click. Click. They go to where Jesus is staying, and they stay with Him, and they become part of something that is growing larger. In v. 41, Andrew bumps into someone he knows, his brother Peter, “We have found the Messiah.” Click. In v. 43, right after our text, “And the next day, Jesus finds and calls Philip. Click. And then there is Nathanael. Click. And then on the third day, there is a wedding in Cana where Jesus does His first sign, demonstrating His Messianic power, and then there’s another sign, and another sign, all pointing ahead to the greatest sign of all: the sign of the cross where God’s Lamb dies for the sins of the world, as it is written. God’s Lamb takes up His life again. Even though there are many other signs, which are not recorded, the Holy Spirit saw fit that these signs were recorded so that the sound would continue: Click, click, click.

As these pieces bump into each other, what are they actually doing? Simple – each one, in turn, believes that the event has happened. And they simply say what it means. They explain the meaning of Jesus. The one who was with God in the beginning has come to make a new beginning. He became flesh; He is here; this is what it means for you: He is God’s Lamb. God chose Him – Messiahed Him, Christed Him, Anointed Him – to be the Lamb. Now, yes, today we have to explain what that means. We aren’t a lamb-and-sheep based culture. For sophisticated urbanite Gentiles like ourselves, our idea is that lambs and sheep are cute, cuddly fuzzy critters to have as pets. Ask any 4-H kid, they will tell you: lambs are there to bleed, to surrender life, to die.  The Lamb is there to bleed, surrender, and die.

Why do lambs have to die? Because the world is a place filled with darkness. And people are born into that darkness. People don’t know where to go. They can’t find their way back to God. Sin, sin – of course – is the problem. It separates people from God and – look around! - us from one another. For all that sin someone must die to make it right. Someone must die to take the punishment. Someone must be sacrificed. That’s how it is with God. He hates sin. He cares about right and wrong.

But there is such good news in John’s words. Jesus is God’s Lamb for you. You and I do not have to die as sacrifice for our own sins - not at all. God made a new beginning. He sends the world His Son, His Lamb, who loved us enough to be that for us, instead of us, in place of us. Because that’s how it is with God who loves the whole world.

There is such good news in John’s words. It’s good because it’s real! The event is real, and the meaning is real. The Word became flesh! Not an idea, not whim, not a concept, not a proposal. He became a Man. That morning, He walked by John the Baptizer, and John pointed to that Man walking. The event was real. Nothing can change it. That’s why it is such good news. And He really hanged there. And that was real. And He died a real death – our death! - and nothing can change that. And, on the third day, there He wasn’t: the tomb was empty. He was raised to resurrection life and He offers that life to all who believe. This is good news because it is real. Good enough to bring cleansing and forgiveness to any sin. Even for those times when we believe we are big and not small; those times when we refused to tell the story and the meaning when we had the chance. Even for that, Jesus is God’s Lamb.

You know, the longer that line of dominoes is, the more impressive it is. Click, click, click, bumping into each other, passing the momentum from one to the next to the next. It starts in the beginning. It started with Andrew. The sound has been echoing for about 2000 years. You can hear it in your life. Your parents, your pastor, your friend, your spouse, your child told you about Christ, the Lamb of God, who takes away your sins. And so here you are, dearly loved, but a very small parts of something very large.

I was thinking about it…  Here’s a great name for an outreach program: Be a domino for Christ. Or, perhaps a little more aggressive and provocative: Knock someone down for Jesus. Or, maybe not. I toyed with the idea of, at this point, having everyone stand up and get in a line that winds around the room and out the door. The question would be who would be our Andrew – who would start it? Perhaps Judy, after all she is our Outreach Committee chair. Or, Mai or Clara Bell, two of our most senior members. But, then, who would be the last one, leading out the door? Maybe Homer or me, so we can’t squash anyone. No…

Well, we won’t do that. But today, we can believe and rejoice that God has taught us the meaning of Jesus, God’s Lamb. We can rejoice that our Lord has placed us into community, into congregation, where we can bump into one another and remind one another that Jesus is the Lamb of God who takes away your sins. And, we will not take ourselves too seriously, because in this world, it is too easy to think ourselves greater than we ought. Instead, we will see ourselves as very small parts of the very big story of Christ and His bride, the church.

To help you both remember this, and to encourage you to be bold and risk bumping into someone – click – with the story – click – of Christ – click – the Lamb of God – click – who takes away the sins of the world – click – today, take a domino. On one side is a cross, to remind you what the Lamb has done for you. On the other side it simply reads “John 1:34”. I thought about writing the word “Click,” but decided this works better. Keep it for encouragement; use it to share the story. Oh - John 1:34 reads, “I have seen and have born witness that this is the Son of God.” May it be so. Click. Amen.

Jesus' Baptism is Your Baptism - Matthew 3:13-17

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

A few moments ago, we read from the Small Catechism about the benefits of Baptism: “It works forgiveness of sins, delivers from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe this.” Lest anyone think Luther was merely playing in a water fountain, he cites the word of Christ: Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned.” In the gift of Baptism, water and word are combined by the power of the Holy Spirit to kill the old Adam, the old Eve, the sinful nature that is within each of us, and bring a new, spirit-filled child of God, to life. Baptism drowns; Baptism births new life; Baptism buries; Baptism raises.

Yet, “Jesus came from Galilee to the Jordan to John to be baptized by him.” John’s was a baptism for repentance, calling sinners to the waters of the Jordan River to turn their lives, in faith, towards the Coming One. The kingdom is coming, John preached. His job is to prepare; the One Greater is coming and coming soon. John had been thundering out against the chief priests and teachers of the law, calling them a brood of vipers, declaring that the ax is at the root of the tree, that the winnowing fork is sharpened and ready, that the fires are stoked to burn up the waste. John baptized sinners who were reptant because of his message, but there stood Jesus, wanting to be baptized. The sinless Son of God, the Lamb of God who has come to take away the sins of the world, is asking to be baptized? It doesn’t seem to make sense? Even John gets this – he argues that he should be baptized by Jesus, not the other way around; John realizes he’s not worthy of untying Jesus shoes, yet Jesus comes to him to be baptized?

It is to fulfill all righteousness. Isn’t that an interesting phrase? If you were to chase that phrase through the Scriptures, you would discover that righteousness is not something that is demanded or commanded by God of His people. It is in fact that exact opposite: righteousness is a declaration, something given by God to His people. In the Old Testament, and especially in the Psalms, righteousness is the saving deeds of God that HE does on behalf of His people. The Germans have a wonderful word for this – heilsgeschichte – that loosely means the story of salvation. Over and over the story of salvation is grounded in the righteousness and saving acts of God. These are so closely related that it’s as if Jesus is saying, “Do this, John, to fulfill my Father’s plan of salvation.”

Jesus must submit to John’s baptism, not for himself, but to save the very people John has baptized, that the Church has baptized, that have been baptized in this font. In that Jordan river moment, you see a picture of how Christ will save His people from their sins: He stands among us, with us, and for us. He takes our place, and in receiving the sinner’s baptism from John, it’s as if all of the world’s sins that have been washed away from us are washed onto Him. God made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us. This baptismal picture is a foretaste of what is to come. Jesus doesn’t stop standing among us, with us and for us when he leaves the river. He continues in our place all the way to the cross. Ultimately, that is where all righteousness is completed and fulfilled, where and when the innocent Lamb of God is offered as the once-for all, one-for-all sacrifice in the place of many. That is why it is fitting for Jesus to come to the Jordan and be baptized to – literally and spiritually – stand in the place of many.

Still dripping from the baptismal washing, Jesus climbs out of the water. Immediately, “Behold, the heavens were opened to Him and He saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming to rest on Him.” We speak of once-in-a-lifetime event; usually those are milestone firsts – a first kiss, a first step, a first child’s birth. This isn’t as much a first, but an end-times event: the heavens are opened, the Spirit descends as a dove. It’s as if the Father is answering any questions even before they are answered: “Who is this guy, and what’s all the fuss from John about baptizing him?” Jesus, who is the perfect Servant of God, having now received the Spirit of God, will perform the work of bringing righteousness to the nations, ministering to the crushed reeds and smoldering wicks – the repentant, contrite and faithful - remaining in Israel.

A second call, “Behold,” this time alerting us to the Father’s voice: “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” The voice of the Father identifies Jesus as His Son. I think this is a bit of a Divine play on words here. Not only is Jesus God’s Son by virtue of the Virgin Birth conceived in Mary by the power of the Spirit, but He is also the entire summation of all of God’s people reduced into one. In other words, Jesus, the Son, embodies all of God’s people. Christ, the sinless Son of God, stands in the place of God’s son, Israel – and the Church – that needs saving. The One who has come to be baptized in the place of sinners does so as God’s sinless Son by right, so that He can save God’s “son” that is lost in sin. Jesus is truly the Son of God who fulfills all righteousness for His Father’s people.

Matthew used the word, behold, two times. Behold means to look at something, to see something, and to do so with great attention for detail. So, let’s do that very thing: let us behold what this means for us. Close your eyes for a moment: Behold! See Jesus, standing in the river with water cascading down his face. Behold! Look closely – look at features, face, hands, body. Zoom out just a bit. Behold! Do you see the Spirit descending, the dove alighting? Behold! See the heavens parting? Now, zoom back in at the face. Do you see Jesus? Now, I want you to let His face morph and change so that you see your own face. See your own face standing in the Jordan. Behold! Christ stands there for you! Behold! Christ stands in your place! Behold! Christ takes your sins onto and into Himself and, in your baptism, His holiness and righteousness is washed onto you. Behold! You are made holy. The transformation is so complete that – Behold! – as you look upwards, even with water dripping in your eyes, the heavens are opened for you. Behold, the Spirit of God comes upon you and delivers all of the blessings of God upon you, the baptized, creating, strengthening and enabling faith to believe these gifts of God. Behold! The Father speaks, this time to you, “You are my beloved, my Son, my Daughter, and with you I am well pleased.” Hold that picture, for just a moment.

Behold…  Now, open your eyes.

There is one unfortunate thing about your baptism: the water has long left your head. There is no tangible evidence that remains. For most of us, there isn’t even a memory. Yet, Baptism remains. It never needs to be re-done, renewed, or remodeled. The cleansing, saving water of Holy Baptism never evaporates. The sign of the cross, made on your forehead and over your heart, stands as a sign of Christ’s eternal victory. The water, once poured over your head, continues to give life. The Triune name of God, spoken over you, does not fade into history. Any time, every time, you doubt; any time, every time, you are repentant; any time, every time you feel the devil’s hot breath and hear his lying words; any time, every time you wonder, “Is Christ for me?” return to your Baptism. With the sign of the cross, with the words of absolution, with bread and wine, with the Word preached and read, Christ returns you to your Baptism.

Behold: the word of your heavenly Father: You are His beloved. With you, He is well pleased.

Forgiveness for Moms and Dads - Luke 2:40-52

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson. Luke 2:40-52.

As a parent, this text infuriates me. I would have been livid had I been Joseph. For a child to so completely disrespect his parents, to not follow obediently and trave with them – at least be in the same group! – is unconscionable. He shows complete disregard, not only for Mary and Joseph’s parental authority, but for their parental responsibility, their fears, and their concerns. Overall, it seems that Jesus simply doesn’t care about Mary and Joseph one whit.

As a parent, I empathize with Mary and Joseph deeply. You parents, you grandparents, you probably do as well because you’ve had that experience of having a child disappear while you were at the grocery store or the mall or at the ballpark. Your son, your daughter – he or she was right next to you just a second ago, but when you turn around it’s as if – poof – they disappeared. The frantic search, as concern quickly accelerates to angst and then fear; the terrible “what if” thoughts; the scurrying down aisles, under clothes racks, below the bleachers, to finally find them stretched out beneath a rack filled with coats, simply needing a nap, them waddling towards you with two boxes of their favorite cereal under their arms, or down the toy aisle staring at the latest and greatest thing they saw at their friend’s house, or playing quietly with a couple other friends, totally oblivious to your frantic and panicked search. Thankfully, most of the time, these panicked searches end up well, but with a bag of mixed feelings: joy the lost child is found, frustration the child left in the first place, and shame that you missed the fact that your child disappeared without your knowledge.

Because you’ve experienced this, you can understand and imagine Mary and Joseph’s frustration, fear, and concern. Luke wants us to see this story through their eyes. He wants us to know their grief and pain, their frantic efforts to find their son. At the evening camp, after a day’s journey – fifteen to twenty miles – from Jerusalem, they discovered Jesus wasn’t there. A quick search among their traveling companions identified Jesus was not among them. Then, the frantic return to the city, swollen in population for Passover, growing and blossoming hour by hour, stretching into a three-day search for their son, their twelve-year old son, their only son.

I wonder if their return to the Temple was motivated by spiritual, as much as physical and emotional, need? You know how it is – in times of great crisis, turning to the house of God for prayer, solitude and – perhaps – answers? A sense that they’ve tried everything else, so perhaps this was the final option? Or was it less spiritual, and simply checking the last place they remembered seeing Jesus?  

And, then, I can imagine – as can you – their mixed bag of emotions when they discover Jesus there, in the Temple, surrounded by the great teachers of the Law. It was apparently an incredible give-and-take between the boy and the men: Jesus both listening to them and asking questions, but also answering and demonstrating great understanding. Mary and Joseph, astonished at what was before them, both seeing and hearing this dialogue; frustrated at their son’s seeming lack of respect and concern; relief to find him safe.

And I have to wonder if she remembered the day she and Joseph brought Jesus to Temple for His circumcision, that strange day that the old man, Simeon, held the baby in his arms, sang the Nunc Dimittis – Lord, let your servant depart in peace – and then he looked at Mary and said:

This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, 35 so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Did she wonder if this moment was the first of more to come?

Was there understanding that in her Son, God deigned to dwell among man, not in a Tabernacle, or even in the Temple, but in human flesh? Did she have any inclination that the day would come when those same teachers  of the law would turn against Jesus, instead of sitting and engaging with Jesus in teaching and learning they engaged instead in plotting to kill Him? Could she have any idea that He would, in 30 years, make His own journey to Jerusalem for Passover? Was there any inkling in her mind that then He would be left behind again – this time not by parents but by everyone – including His Heavenly Father? Did she understand that there would be another three day period where she would be separated from her son who lay, dead and buried, behind a sealed stone and where she would finally find Him, but mistake Him for the gardener?

No…standing there in Temple, watching her 12 year old son with pride and curiosity, with frustration and anxiety, she didn’t have any idea of what lay ahead for Jesus and what was necessary for Him to fulfill His name and be Savior. What she knew is that it was time to go home, back to sleepy little Nazareth, and for Jesus to go with her. He did, Luke noting that He continued to grow in wisdom and in stature with God and man. She had found her Son, where He was most at home – in His Father’s house. But it was time to leave the Temple behind for another year.

I started this sermon by putting us parents in the shoes of Mary and Joseph. Whether you count your child’s lifespan still as weeks and months, or by the decade, you have had those moments and experiences of anger and frustration – some were righteously felt, but if we’re honest, others not so much. Parenting is one of God’s great gifts and children are a blessing. It is the primary relationship of all mankind, one where grace and mercy is freely practiced and love and compassion are exercised. And the devil cannot abide this. So, the devil loves to take the gift and fill us with frustration and hurt so that we call it a burden, and he loves to take the blessing and fill it with harsh words and broken hearts so that we call it a curse.  Love and compassion are surrendered to getting even and showing who’s boss and grace and mercy are given over to self-justification and self-righteousness. And then, when we 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, that Christian parents would never think such things, or feel such things toward their children. He leaves us parents in our own despair, seeing only our failures and our homes as anything but places where the Spirit of God dwells.

Parents – moms and 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 motherly tantrums, Jesus is yours. In repentance, surrender them to Him. 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, Mom; 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.

Amen.