Carrying the Cross at the Dinner Table - Matthew 10:34-39

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson, Matthew 10.

Last week, we heard Jesus speak of the difficulty of discipleship “out there” – out in the world. Today, Jesus takes discipleship and He brings it in the front door and into our living rooms, our dining rooms, and our bedrooms. He takes discipleship and the cross of discipleship and places it squarely in the family.

I have become a fan of the TV show BLUE BLOODS. The show follows four generations of the Regan family and their service to the city of New York as lawyers and police officers. I’ve had many people tell me they also like the show – not so much because it’s a cop drama, but because at the core of the show is a strong Christian family that sticks together through thick and thin. At least once each episode, the Regan family sits down together for a nine-person, four-generation family meal. Things happen, though, to the family – personal things, professional things, things that strain those family ties, stretching the almost to the breaking point. At times it’s the tension between policing the streets and the court of law; sometimes it’s the unease between the office of commissioner and street cop; occasionally it’s personal relationships and memories; often it’s sibling squabbles; every now and then, it’s the friction between generations. In that moment, tempers flare, words become fiery, and battle lines are drawn in the sand with slamming plates, shoved-back chairs, and people leaving the table before something irrevocable is said.

Perhaps you know that setting all too well. For you, though, it’s not how confessions are obtained from suspects that cause the troubles around the dinner table. For you, it’s because of your confession of faith in Jesus Christ, reading the Word of God, living a life of repentance and receiving the gifts given to you in your baptism. Someone in your family sees you as old-fashioned and out of touch. But it’s not just in your family – it’s Christian families across the globe. Someone in the family openly mocks those who bow their heads to pray over a meal. Someone in the family has embraced wicca, or Islam, or Scientology or some other religion says they are all viable ways to heaven. Someone in the family has embraced an alternative sexual lifestyle as being perfectly acceptable. Someone in the family denies their infant baptism. Someone in the family calls Christians judgmental hypocrites. Someone in the family has given up completely and says that there is no God and says you are wasting your time going to church.

For you, and for families like yours, your family dinner table is not so much divided by race or political party or whatever current topic is on the news - your family dinner table is divided because of Jesus.  These are all relatively minor in our country – hurtful, yes, but there are places where Jesus’ warning about cross bearing isn’t just a metaphor. In some countries, these dinner table confessions of Jesus are much more serious. Someone in the family calls the local authorities because mom or dad, sister or brother, husband or wife, son or daughter is a Christian and in that place, Christianity is illegal. In places like that, there is no First Amendment, there is no balanced trial, there is no public defender. I don’t need to tell you how those trials often end.

We are used to hearing Jesus say that He comes to deliver peace. The angels’ song at His birth declared Christ’s birth would bring “Peace on earth and good will among men.” He instructed the Twelve that they would be deliver peace to houses that receive them as servants of Christ. He delivered His promise to His disciples, “My peace I live with you, my peace I give to you, not as the world gives do I give.” We are used to hearing Him speak to frightened followers and to raging storm-tossed seas, “Peace.” In words and in actions, peace is delivered, peace is granted, peace is received. With Christ’s peace is restoration, wholeness, unity and harmony.

So when we hear Jesus speak, saying that He comes to bring not peace but a sword, it catches us off guard – it makes us stop and re-read. These are not the words we are used to hearing from Jesus. I’m sure it stunned the disciples, too. Not peace on earth, but a sword? Peace unites; swords separate. Peace heals; swords kill. Peace delivers harmony; swords bring punishment. A sword is not very Christ-like, is it? But He’s not done. Jesus says He will put man against father, daughter against mother, daughter-in-law against mother-in-law – so much so that family will become enemy!

We’re left in a conundrum - Where is the Jesus we know? Where is the word of peace that we expect? But at the same time, we must nod our heads and agree, “yes – this is true.” We agree, first, because it’s Jesus’ own word, but also we see it; we experience it in our own lives, in our own homes, in our own families: with Jesus, there is separation.

When Jesus speaks of these things happening, of bringing a sword, we must consider this word carefully lest we misunderstand Him. First, Jesus doesn’t mean a literal sword. Swords are left to governments to wield with God’s blessing as His representatives. Nor is Jesus starting a revolution, an insurrection, or a coup against Rome. Nor is He instructing the disciples – or the church for that matter – to take up arms and execute their 2^nd Amendment rights of personal defense.  He is speaking of the effect that the Gospel can have on those who reject the Good News of Jesus as Savior, the proclamation that the Kingdom is near.

It’s the wonderful juxtaposition of the truths of Jesus: on the one hand, His Word does exactly what it proclaims for sinful people. When the Word is spoken, it creates faith by the power of the Holy Spirit. When the Word speaks of peace, there is peace. When it speaks of forgiveness, sins are released. When it speaks of hope, there is future. When it speaks of grace, and mercy and compassion, these gifts abound and hearts overflow. When it the word proclaims life, death flees. When the word tells satan to go away, he runs in terror. The Word works. People hear Christ’s word that the Kingdom is near and, by God’s grace, they repent and believe.

On the other hand, the Word is completely resistible by sinful people. Others hear the very same word of Jesus but due to their own ingrained sin and sinful stubbornness, reject the Word that leads to salvation. When the Word speaks peace, a man can insist on continued separation. When the Word declares sins are forgiven, a woman can refuse to believe it is true - both for herself and for those who hurt her. When the Word speaks of hope, a daughter sees only gloom; when the Word speaks grace, mercy, and compassion, a son can insist on feeding anger, hurt, and revenge. When the word proclaims life, a dying fool laughs in mockery.

And, so, what was true in the Old Testament days of Micah when he proclaimed, “A son dishonors his father, a daughter will rise up against her mother, a bride against her mother-in-law, and the enemies of a man will be the members of his own house,” remain true still to this day. The conflict that arises within families over the name of Jesus is a tragically sad commentary on the sinful condition of people of all times. And even though Jesus’ word delivers faith, hope, and trust to those who love and follow Him, that same word results in conflict with those who refuse to repent and follow Christ alone. Jesus’ intent isn’t to divide, but division is the result, the effect, of the coming of Jesus and our following Him.

In those divided families, sooner or later, faithful people of God face the wrath and anger of the unfaithful. The message, whether literally stated or implied, is turn away from Jesus and do what I say instead. It’s exactly what Jesus warned would happen. And, sometimes in those moments, your faith-filled witness, even in the face of adversity, will win the brother, or sister, or mother-in-law, or father over for the sake of Jesus. At other times, the demands of the non-believing spouse or the faithless child will demand your conformity in ways that you simply, and sadly, must not comply. You are called to love Jesus more than your own flesh and blood.

The Good News is that Jesus knows what it is to carry a cross. Remember: He took up His own cross for you. He, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross and scorned its shame. He carried the cross when your son laughed at you for praying before eating a bologna sandwich. He carried the cross when your parents thought you going to church was a waste of your valuable time. He carried the cross when your stepbrother called you a Jesus Freak for not reading porn magazines. Jesus carried the cross when your own cousin reported you to HR as being too preachy in the breakroom. He carried it all for you, for the sins committed against you, for those who sought to hurt you in spirit, in mind, in body, in your life. This is the cross Jesus speaks of, the cross of following Christ even when unpopular with family. It might not be a cross that leads to your own death, but it will lead to heartache and pain. Yet, if you were to cave in and surrender to the demands of the faith-less family members, then you reject Christ and His word. In that, you also surrender the one true life that you are guaranteed. His resurrection victory shows you that what you endure this side of heaven, with your own crosses, is but temporary. In Christ’s resurrection, delivered to you in Baptismal water, and sealed with the sign of the cross, you have the promise of eternity with God through Christ.

 You heard it last week in the words of Jesus. Hear it again – this time, not for “out there,” but for in your own home, at your own family dinner table. Have no fear; do not fear; fear not. Speak boldly and confidently, but also lovingly and winsomely, of Jesus with your father and mother, sister and brother, son and daughter, and even mother in law and daughter in law, father in law and son in law. Speak of Jesus. Carry the cross. In those moments of cross-carrying, Jesus carries you. Amen.

Have No Fear - Matthew 10: 26-33

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

I was excited. It was my first day at the Seminary, day one of the four-year road to becoming a pastor. All day, I had talked, discussed, and translated with other pastors-in-training. All of us were filled with the excitement of ministry and the confidence that only first year students can have. 

That afternoon, my classmates and I were in an orientation session for what was being called field work, graduate-school level shadowing of a pastor in various ministry settings. Professor William explained that each quarter we rotate to a different ministry setting. A third of us would be shadowing chaplains, a third would be sent to congregations conducting evangelism programs, and the other third sent to inner-city ministries at homeless shelters, half-way houses, and, literally, on the streets.  

Chaplains in nursing homes, hospitals and prisons, Professor William said, need to be prepared to help answer faith-and-life questions like why is God making me sick, or is God mad at me, or can I be forgiven for what I did, or what happens when we die. He told us to watch and learn because a large part of pastoral ministry is visiting members and families in those places. “Remember,” he said with an excited tone, “you’ll bring the presence of Christ and His Word to those people in a time of crisis.”

His tone was contagious; we were excited. That sounded interesting – getting to talk to people with real questions in that place where faith and life intersect and sometimes crash together. The prison thing sounded a little spooky, but hey – that’s what guards are for, right? And some of us had never seen death before or sat with someone who was just diagnosed with a terminal illness – those made us a little uncomfortable, kinda curious how to do that kind of thing, but, still, we were excited.

Those of you heading into evangelism programs, he said, will meet a variety of people, some who really are curious about who God is, why Jesus had to die, or even what makes Christianity different from every other religion in the world. Others, he said, will be ugly and rude. You’ll have doors slammed in your faces, you’ll be laughed at and called ugly names. You might have great conversations like Paul at Athens and clearly speak of Jesus; other times all you can do is walk away and go to the house next door, knock on the door, and try again. “But,” he said as his voice rose, “like the shepherd who rejoices over one sheep who is returned to the flock, you will prayerfully keep searching to bring that one soul back to Christ.”

Ok, so the excitement faded a little and we became a bit nervous. Most of us had never had that experience of person-to-person faith discussions outside of controlled settings like workshops and classrooms. We had never had a door slammed in our face, or laughed at for being a Christian. But we were smart, educated, and Biblically literate – we could figure it out, and besides, we were going in pairs so we could tag-team if need be.

“And then,” he said, “there are those of you who will be going to the inner city of St. Louis. If you’ve never been to a major city before” – and there were plenty of us who had not been exposed to what real inner city looks like – “not every church has a manicured lawn and fresh paint, and you will realize how vast and broad and unique the body of Christ really is.” His voice dropped a half-octave. “What does it look like to be the church in a place where gangs, drugs, and drive-by’s terrorize God’s people. How do you preach love, mercy and compassion in a place often ruled by hate, revenge, and anger and  where languages, skin color, and nationality divide and separate. He paused for a few seconds, then added, “I advise you to wear your clerical collar, wear no jewelry but your wedding ring, and only have your drivers license on you – no wallet, no cash, no cards. You might get hassled or mugged, but we’ve never had a student seriously hurt before.”

You could have heard a pin drop.  Reality hit like an ice bucket challenge. Watching people die in hospitals? Doors slammed in our faces? Robbery? Drive-bys? Gangs? Mugging? Speaking for myself, I hadn’t bargained for any of those things. Is this what ministry involves, what discipleship entails, what it means in real flesh and blood – emphasis on blood – flesh and blood terms to follow Jesus?

Now, I tell you this story knowing that chances are that you will not serve as a chaplain in a hospital or prison. You may never sit in DeLeon plaza with a sign, “Ask me about Jesus.” You might never experience praying with Christian refugees from Syria or worship in a church with bullet-scarred walls in a metropolitan inner city. But it is tempting to let those same fears that gripped my mind and heart in that seminary classroom cross our minds and allow satan to suck away our joy, our excitement and our desire to share the Good News of Jesus. 

We say we don’t want to offend our coworker. In reality we don’t want to risk a visit with HR. We say we don’t want to seem holier than thou to a classmate. Truthfully, we’re worried of what classmates may say about us behind our backs. We say we don’t want to embarrass our friend who doesn’t go to church. Actually, we’re concerned a friend might be embarrassed by us. We say we don’t want to talk about Biblically divisive issues with our adult children. Truth be told, we’re afraid our kids will stop visiting us because we’re “too religious.” We’re so afraid of saying “Christ alone” that we instead surrender to the fears, the worries, the seemingly insurmountable worldly message that’s around us and we play the part of the three monkeys: say nothing, hear nothing, see nothing.

That evening in Seik Hall, Professor William cleared his throat. He was standing, Bible in his hands. “Gentlemen,” he said, “Have no fear.” Then he read from Matthew’s Gospel:

“So have no fear of them, for nothing is covered that will not be revealed, or hidden that will not be known. What I tell you in the dark, say in the light, and what you hear whispered, proclaim on the housetops. And do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather fear him who can destroy both soul and body in hell. Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father.  But even the hairs of your head are all numbered.  Fear not, therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. So everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 10:26-33)

“I want you to notice three things,” Professor William said that September evening. “Jesus says, ‘have no fear,’ ‘do not be afraid,’ and ‘fear not.’ That must be pretty important, huh?” he said. “Have no fear of those who oppose you because they aren’t opposing you but God. Do not fear those who might hurt your body.  The worst thing that can happen to you is they take your life, but that will not destroy your relationship with the Father. Fear not, for you are of greater worth than many sparrows. If God shows concern for sparrows, two purchased for a half-hour’s work, seemingly so unimportant that He knows if one falls to the earth, then how much greater is His love for His children. Do not fear, for Christ has already won you the eternal victory, delivered to you in your Baptism. He has gone ahead; you follow. Do not fear.”

“Have no fear… Do not fear… Fear not…” Those are Jesus’ words to His disciples as they were entering the world, and those words – echoed down through the centuries – still ring in the ears of the body of Christ as we live in the world today. Everyone knows the Great Commission, right? “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey all things I have commanded you.” We remember Jesus promise that He will be with us to the end of the age. But do you know why that Commission is so great? Do you know why that blessing is able to be given? It’s the sentence prior: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” Because all authority is His, He tells us to have no fear, to not fear, to fear not. And because all authority is His, we will have no fear, we will not fear, we will fear not as we live in this world, confessing the name of Jesus with those around us. 

And, if fear sneaks it’s subversive way into your heart and mind, repent. If you surrender and, instead of speaking out you hush up, repent. If you turn the other way instead of standing boldly for the name of Jesus, repent. Repent of your fear and turn in faith to Jesus and confess your fears to Him. He endured the terror of the cross for you. He takes the burden of your guilt and your shame from you so you are able to live in freedom and are able to confess Christ again.

Does this mean we won’t have difficulties, that we won’t face evil because we are disciples of Jesus? No; it does not. What Jesus’ thrice-repeated “do not fear” means is this: when – and please note, I said when, not if – when difficulties, or persecution, or prosecution, or even martyrdom comes, are always and fully under the Father’s divine, loving, Baptismally-drenched care. He is with us whether we are stand, suffering in front of family who rejects, friends who mock, employers who threaten, governments who punish, or even at death’s door. Know this: in those moments, God has not and will not abandon you. He abandoned His Son, Jesus, at the cross so that He would never have to abandon you in your moment of greatest need.

It doesn’t seem to make sense – that if God is faithful and present in His Word and through His servants, why is that message rejected? It’s the irony of God’s love: He offers it freely and He will coerce no one. The gift can be received in faith and rejected in denial. Rest assured, even in those moments of rejection God is at work in you, for you and through you. The Father has not, and He will not, overlook His little ones who suffer. Even that suffering, God uses for the glory of His name. He will strengthen you through the power of the Holy Spirit. And, on the Last Day, the Truth will be made perfectly clear and no longer hidden, and then their opposition to the Gospel will be made known.

So, my friends, “Have no fear… Do not fear… Fear not…” When given the opportunity, speak boldly and truthfully in the name of Jesus. I leave you with the words of Professor William – well, actually, they’re not his words at all. They belong to Someone else.

“Have no fear… Do not fear… Fear not…”

In the name of Jesus. Amen.,

I Hope Your Guts Hurt - Matthew 9:35 - 10:8

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

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

Lately, however, educators, psychologists, psychiatrists and sociologists have come to realize that there is more to life than just intelligence. A new term was used called emotional intelligence, usually abbreviated as EQ to make it parallel with IQ. This is used to not so much measure raw intellectual power but rather the ability of a person to see what is happening in other people around them, to read their emotions and have an empathetic response to them.

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

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

Then, of course, there is their close cousin pity. Pity focuses on what you feel, your discomfort and displeasure at the yuckiness you see. Pity acknowledges a situation but is quick to move on – after offering a condescending comment or two. If sympathy implies distance, pity demands separation.

Brene Brown, professor at the University of Houston, explains these words this way: Empathy says I see that you are hurting and scared. Let me sit with you so you’re not alone. Sympathy says yep, you’re in a real pickle here. Well, it could be worse. Cheer up. Pity says you really made a mess of things. What did you do to be so bad off?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But He doesn’t do any of those things. Instead, He has compassion on them. The Greek word for compassion is splancthon. In ancient literature, the word was originally used to describe the guts of an animal, but it came to mean the feeling you have in your guts when you see something. But it’s more than just a gut feeling. Compassion is a visceral reaction, meaning your guts hurt and you have to respond. Compassion is mercy put into flesh-and-blood action. But compassion also means getting dirty, getting down on someone’s level where they are. Compassion moves you from inaction and into action and it leads you in the dirt – figuratively or literally – down in the ditch in the dust or the muck. Compassion inserts you into their pain, in their misery, whether it’s in the unemployment office, in Christ’s kitchen, at the death-bed, or in the funeral home as they stare down the valley of the shadow – getting down eyeball to eyeball with them and be with them in that hard, difficult place and time. Compassion puts you on their level. Compassion says “I’m not better than you…I’m with you, and I won’t let you be alone, and I will help you in this.” Compassion is visceral.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gathering Together at Pentecost - Acts 2 & John 7

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

I suspect that when we think of Pentecost, we think of the extra-ordinary events that took place that first Pentecost morning in Jerusalem. We have heard countless Sunday school lessons and sermons describing how the wind roared through the house and how tongues of fire appeared over the disciples heads and, much like Moses’ burning bush or Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, the disciples were not harmed by the fire’s presence. We consider in amazement that these uneducated men were enabled by the Holy Spirit in such a marvelous way. The text isn’t clear: some theologians say that the disciples could suddenly speak in many different languages so that all of the different nationalities could understand. Others say that the Holy Spirit took their words, spoken probably in Aramaic or Greek, and interpreted them in the minds of the hearers so they could understood what Peter and the others were preaching – a true undoing of the confusion at the Tower of Babel. Still others point to the mass conversion of thousands saved through the Spirit’s work in Peter’s preaching.

We love to hear the Pentecost narrative every year because it fills us with awe and astonishment and combined with just enough mystery and intrigue to make us wonder. It’s an exciting sermon to preach and it’s one that people expect to hear.

But this year is different, isn’t it? We’ve spent the last eleven weeks apart from each other as the worshipping body of Christ. We’ve endured loneliness and separation, fear and worry, economic woes and toilet paper shortages. I’ve preached to an empty room, except for my kids, and you’ve had to watch our services from your living room, the Chapel of Saints Pillow, Couch and Recliner. And, yes, while I emphasized over and over that we are still part of the body of Christ and, through Christ, connected to each other even though separated by miles and megabytes of data, it’s just not the same. The body is intended to be a whole and complete, not disjointed and distant.

So this year, when I read the Pentecost narrative, what struck me wasn’t the wind roaring, or the fire flickering; it wasn’t the language barrier being removed or even the mass conversion that would make Billy Graham faint. It was this sentence: When the day of Pentecost arrived, they were all together in one place.

Pentecost was the final day of the Festival of Booths. The Festival was similar to our modern, American Thanksgiving day, but stretched out over seven days. The Festival of Booths, or sukkoth in Hebrew, was a time to give thanks and remember God’s providential care of Israel. The harvest would be complete, so part of the Festival was thanksgiving for God’s providing through the crops gathered in. But, more than just a harvest celebration, it was also a time of remembrance. Each family was to live in a tent as a symbol of the tents they used in the wilderness. During the Festival, Israel retold the stories of how God cared for their ancestors in the wilderness wanderings and how He led them to the Promised Land of Milk and Honey.

On the final day of sukkoth, there would be a procession in the city of Jerusalem from the pool of Siloam up to the Temple. Priests would dip a pitcher of water from the pool and pour it into one of the sacred vessels used that day for sacrifice. It was a two-part purpose: one, of remembering how the Lord provided water to the thirsty Israelites in the desert, and two, as a way of imploring God to send rains for the next harvest to come.

This was Pentecost day, the fiftieth day after Passover. Where Passover was associated with the lamb and with blood, Pentecost was associated with water.

So, what does a Jewish celebration of harvest thanksgiving and exodus remembrance have to do with the disciples in Acts 2, or with us for that matter? Glad you asked.

The people who came up with this abbreviated Gospel reading for this morning, John 7:37-39, do us a disservice. Verse thirty seven simply and abruptly introduces this as “on the last day of the feast.” That’s not terribly helpful. So, go back and look earlier in the chapter. In verse two we discover “that the feast of booths was at hand.” In other words, it’s Pentecost day, a year earlier. Jesus had not yet been crucified, raised, or ascended. Now, remember what I said about water and the pool of Siloam, about remembering God’s gift of wilderness water and prayers for rains to come. With that, consider anew Jesus’ words: If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scriptures has said, Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water. Jesus is about to pour living water into the hearts of those who believe in Jesus as the Christ, the Messiah, the Savior of the world.

This wasn’t the first time He spoke of living waters. Remember the Samaritan woman at the well who gave Jesus water to drink out of Jacob’s well? Jesus promised living water to her, a personal and private gift. But this, Jesus says, is water not just for one woman, or just for twelve men, but for all who believe. On that previous Festival of booths day, Jesus, who tented among us as God in flesh and blood, will bestow His Spirit of living water upon the Church.

This takes place a year later, on the great festival day of Pentecost that we know. In a terrific and magnificent way, so there is no doubt, the Lord both fulfilling His promises to both send another comforter to the Disciples and He pours out living water upon those who believe. Without border and without barrier, living waters quench the thirst of those who seek a righteousness outside themselves.

Now, earlier I pointed out that on the day of Pentecost, the disciples had gathered together. Why is that such a big deal that it deserves to be mentioned when there is so much else to be said?

It had been fifty three days since Jesus was arrested, fifty two days since Jesus was crucified, died, and was buried, and fifty days since the day of resurrection. Ten days earlier, on the 40^th day after Easter, Jesus had ascended into heaven, His disappearance marked by two angels who told the disciples to remain in Jerusalem and wait. They did exactly that. They weren’t just idly sitting by, either – they gathered together, devoting themselves to prayer, studying the Scriptures, and slowly understanding more and more how Jesus was the fulfillment of the promised Savior.

Wait. We know something about waiting don’t we. We wait for this, we wait for that. It’s been seventy four days since we made the difficult decision to suspend corporate worship and all activities at Zion. In those days, I imagine you spent your own fair share of time in prayer and in reading the Scriptures for yourself, listening to the streamed services and devotions, and contemplating what you read and heard. In those moments, the Spirit of God was rushing in you through those very words you heard read, living waters were quenching your thirst, enabling you to remain strong in faith, in hope, in trust of Christ as your Savior even as you waited in wilderness exile.

Today, I give thanks that when the day of Pentecost came, the disciples gathered together in one place and I rejoice today that on this Pentecost 2020, many are able to gather together in this room (and also by live-stream) to receive the gifts of God. There aren’t tongues of fire dancing on our heads, or winds whipping down the hallway. No one can accuse me of drunken behavior this morning and there aren’t multiple languages spoken. Those were important things on that ancient Jerusalem morning, for they demonstrated the Christ’s fulfillment of the gift of the Spirit. What there is for you this day is this: irrespective of masks that may be worn, social distances between us, and lack of physical contact,  the Spirit-given flood that was poured out on you in your Baptism continues to flow in you to believe Christ is your Savior.

Come, Holy Spirit, quench our thirst for righteousness with Christ, drown our sin, fill us with your baptismal grace that from our faith-filled hearts might flow streams of living water welling up to eternal life. Amen.

The Ascended Jesus is Always at Hand - Luke 24: 50-53

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

I know from talking with some of you that you are feeling the weight of this crisis – perhaps not as much as this son, or not as much as your neighbor, or a friend, or a classmate, or the couple down the street, but you are feeling it nonetheless. While the restrictions are slowly easing, there is still a great deal of fear in this world. There is fear in our community. There is fear in our congregation. There is fear in your home. The unknown is literally driving people to the breaking point. Doctors, educators, therapists, pastors are all reporting that they are seeing more and more people struggling with life these days and there is evidence that this will get worse before it gets better. In an National Review article posted Friday, (https://www.nationalreview.com/news/a-years-worth-of-suicide-attempts-in-the-last-four-weeks-california-doctor-calls-for-end-to-lockdown/?fbclid=IwAR03yP52DgvPLEssCTchITIRWRWWLbrJUpVu9WF_yZ1jtxmxO4XsSUbRTqI) a California trauma doctor was describing the unprecedented spike in suicides and suicide attempts. He said they have seen a year’s worth of suicides in the past four weeks. Another nurse noted that this is impacting nurses more than Corona-19. You could almost read the pain in her simple quote, “It’s unsettling.”

Unsettling – that’s a good word for this, after all, we are facing an unseen enemy that we know very little about and we’ve been asked to face it, more-or-less alone. Make no mistake, the devil is taking those fears and he is fueling them and fanning them into flame, using whatever is at hand, be it reputable news, believable rumor, or unbelievable conspiracy theory. That damned liar – I use that word deliberately - seeks to turn us against both our own baptized, sanctified conscience and against our Lord’s Baptismal promise to us. Our human fight-or-flight instinct kicks in: either we fight to fix it (whatever it may be) ourselves, or we flee out of hopelessness and helplessness. Either way, the empty cross of Jesus, much like Lubbock, is left in a cloud of dust in the rearview mirror.

On this seventh Sunday of Easter, we celebrate Christ’s ascension. The ascension reverses His Nativity. In Mary’s womb, God was enfleshed to dwell among us; at Christmas, heaven descended to earth. At Jesus’ ascension, Christ ascends physically and bodily. As He disappears into the clouds, earth is connected to heaven. No longer physically bound to one place at one time, Jesus transcends time and space, truly present among His people wherever they may be and in whatever situation they may be. Jesus’ ascent into the clouds is not about His separation from us. Rather His ascension assures us He is with us always.

Ah, but you say, the cloud isn’t the same thing as the physical presence of Jesus. His being with us through His Spirit is not the same as His being with Peter and John, James and Andrew, Mary and Martha, walking and talking with them. Fair and true. Yet, He is with us. Different doesn’t mean worse; it doesn’t mean less than. It does mean greater.

How am I so confident of this… Because of the cloud. The cloud stands as the fulfillment of the Old Testament sign of the presence of God. As the Children of Israel traveled through the wilderness and into the Promised Land, the shekinah – Hebrew for the glory of God – went before them in the form of the cloud. Where the cloud went, the people went, until the cloud entered the temple to remain. So, Christ, in His ascension, leaves us the cloud – not for hiding, but for guaranteeing the abiding presence of God with us. Jesus ascension into the cloud assures us that the glory of Christ abides with us, still.

DO you need more on this Ascension Sunday? Our Lord provides. If the cloud is not enough for you, then look at the hands. Those same hands that once pushed at Mary’s breasts as He nursed, are now held up to be seen. Those hands learned to grasp a pen and write the Torah of the Lord; those hands worked side by side with Joseph demonstrating the joy of work; those hands touched the eyes of the blind, the ears of the deaf, the tongue of the mute; those hands reached out and brought life to a dead little girl and then carried her back to amazed parents. Hands that grasped Peter sinking beneath the waves, hands that broke and blessed bread, hands that were held out in invitation to a disciple who doubted. Those hands, marked from the nails, were raised in blessing to the disciples so that they would know, believe, trust and rely on His all-sufficient, one-for-all death payment for their sins, for the world’s sins.

Those hands, suspended first at the cross, and then held high in ascension blessing, those hands bore the world’s burdens, fears, anxieties, and concerns – everything that satan tries to pile up against us – those hands carried all of it to the cross and paid the price in blood so that your hands do not have to tote the note any longer.

So that you, dear friends who are listening to this, so that you know and remember all of these gifts are also for you; so you know that Jesus has not left you behind; so satan cannot lie to you telling you that you are on your own to fight or flee; so that you are not left wondering how you will manage to get through this life under the cross; if you are being surrounded by dark clouds, not of glory but of guilt, shame or fear, remember how Jesus hands were held up: they were held in blessing.

Blessings… Our Lord gives many different kinds of blessings, but I suspect we usually think of them as first article, daily bread blessings. You’ll hear people say, “I’m so blessed,” and I suspect this is what they are thinking. And, yes, they are right: a roof over the head, shoes under feet, and loved ones nearby are blessings. But, here, Jesus’ blessing is a spoken blessing. Words, words, words – we are surrounded by words, filling the space around us with emptiness. Given the hollowness of so many of the words around us, it is tempting to think of the Lord’s Words as more of the same...just words. Our Lord’s blessings are not empty. The words of blessing are powerful because they are from the Word Himself. The Lord’s words of blessing are empowering and enlivening, doing exactly what they says. We don’t know the blessing Jesus spoke. Perhaps Jesus spoke the Aaronic benediction to them; perhaps He used a phrase of a Psalm; perhaps it was a new blessing. Whatever it was, His Word of blessing provides the very gift it speaks. His blessing deliver His name, and His blessings equip His people to do His will and to do that which is pleasing in His sight.

I started this sermon with a pretty somber image, that of a young boy who chose to end his life. If you are feeling that much pain, that much fear, if satan is pushing you that hard to think that kind of choice is a good option, then please…call someone: a friend, a neighbor, a family member. Call me. Call 911. Call a doctor, make an appointment with a therapist, visit with your pastor. There is no shame in seeking help whether you’re fifteen or fifty, man, woman, teen, or child. Remember: satan is a liar; don’t listen to him. Let us help you, in Jesus’ name, through the valley of the shadow from the darkness to the Light of Life.

People are using the words “new normal” to describe this time. I’m starting to hate that phrase. There’s nothing normal about this. It most certainly is new, but trying to normalize it by calling it normal is a disservice (this is the opposite of a blessing of God, see?). Whatever you think of it, if all of this starts weighing on you, if the burden of this cross is grinding into your very soul, if you don’t know how much more you can take, then do this: open your hand, and with that opened hand trace the sign of the cross over your forehead or your heart. Make it big, make it small; make it obvious, make it subtle but do it. And as you make that sign of the cross, speak to yourself a blessing of God and use your name. You might say, “Fear not, Jon, for God has called you by name in the waters of baptism and you are his.” You could say, “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit abide with me always.” You could say, “The God of hope fill me with joy and peace, that I may overflow in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Or you could simply say, “I am baptized, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” And, in that moment, through your hand, the ascended-yet-present hand of Christ reaches out upon you delivering the very blessing you speak. Our Lord Jesus Christ, who is faithful will do it.

Then, be at peace.

Amen.

Dear Mothers: Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled - John 14: 1

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

Today marks the 112^th anniversary of the first Mother’s Day. On May 8, 1908, Marva Jarvis’ mother passed away. Two days later, May 10, at her mother’s funeral, Marva gave each guest a white carnation -  Carnations were her mother’s favorite flower – in memory of her mom. As the years progressed, so did the momentum of setting aside a day of honoring mothers. What began in Jarvis’ home town spread and grew until Woodrow Wilson declared it a national day of recognition in 1914. Since then, Mother’s Day has grown into a huge affair. Greeting card companies, telephone companies, jewelry stores and restaurants all mark this as their busiest day of the year as sons and daughters, husbands and fathers seek to honor their moms and the mothers of their children. Moms get everything from dollar-store chocolates and home-made cards to exquisite custom designed pieces. For one day, moms are the queens of the castle.

Motherhood is, quite literally, almost as old as time. When Adam was naming the animals of creation, no helper was found suitable for him. So, God put Adam to sleep and, using one of his ribs, God created Eve, literally making her to stand at Adam’s side. When Adam awoke from his surgical slumber and he saw the gift of God, he rejoiced and named her Eve. Names mean things, and Eve means “Mother of All Living Things.”

You, dear mothers, stand arm-in-arm among a long line of mothers. From Eve through the generations down to your mother, then to you, and – God willing – one day your own daughter or daughter-in-law as she becomes a mother, you are among those whom God has chosen and called to be mothers. Eve named her first son Cain. Cain means “gift;” Eve recognized her son as a gift of God and named him appropriately. No Elon Musk strange character choices here. Simply, my son: a gift.

Motherhood is, indeed, a gift – yes? Oh, the joy of motherhood! Those treasured moments of holding the newborn, hearing “momma,” watching the face light up when you are nearby, watching her grow into a young woman, a lifetime of firsts from first steps to first date. But, then there are the times when the gift turns upside down – not a curse, exactly, but the gift turns into the hurt, both physical and emotional, of motherhood, right? The discomfort of pregnancy followed by the intense agony of childbirth, sore body and sleepless nights, sometimes a less than helpful spouse, the delicate balance, or imbalance, of home and work, the first time a child says “I hate you,” when your child is hurt and bleeds, when you or the doctors and, it seems even Jesus just can’t fix that boo-boo.

And with each of those joys, with each of those sorrows, you stand in the tradition of the mother of all living things who watched as her gift murdered his brother Abel in a cold, jealous rage.  Mmmm…the joy of motherhood, indeed.

“Let not your hearts be troubled.” Pastor Adrain Baccarese, whom I knew up in deep East Texas twenty years ago, would have said, “That’ll preach, boy.” Jesus words, spoken to His disciples 2000 years ago, a group of men He sent out into the world, those words speak to you mothers as well, today, on this Mother’s Day, 2020. Because if we are honest, we would have to say that mother’s hearts *are* troubled, and they are troubled mightily.  Mothers say: My husband’s job is in danger… My son is heading off to college and I’m not ready to let him go… My house is a disaster with a quarantine’s worth of laundry piled on the couch… My mental health isn’t so great these days because of this thing going on around us… My kids need help with school, my boss wants even more work done, and I feel like I’m letting everyone down.  My marriage isn’t what I dreamed it would be… My kids are at each other’s throats… I am not the mother I dreamed I would be and if my mom saw me, she would be ashamed. Mothers hearts are beating with frustration, fear, hurt, anger, shame, guilt, and other things I cannot begin to understand as a man.

To you, hear this word of the Lord: Let not your heart be troubled. Thanks a lot, Pastor. I know what Jesus says. I don’t know that he quite understands what we’re going through here, or what motherhood is like today.

If that’s you, pause for a moment. Take a breath and listen again to the word of the Lord: Let not your heart be troubled. Especially, I draw your attention to that word “heart.”

Jesus knows your heart, mother. He knows you better than you know yourself. He says let not your heart be troubled.

The troubles you have are external. They come outside of you. Sometimes, satan seeds them carefully so that they do take root in your heart. All the thinking in the world does not take away that grief, that anxiety, that frustration, that guilt, all that trouble that we have in our hearts. This is where we carry the cross – in our hearts. We talk about it here, we think about it here, but we carry it here, in the heart. And this is, I suspect, particularly true for mothers who carry not only their own troubles but that of their husbands and their kids – of all ages – as well.

Jesus speaks to you: I have come for you – heart and mind, body and soul – all of you as a person, I came and care for you as a whole. His care comes to you, dear mothers, dear sisters in Christ. So also, He wants us to know God in all His Divine majesty.

There is a verse in 1 Timothy, chapter 2:15, where St. Paul wrote, “Women will be saved through childbearing.” This does not mean that you will see eternity only if you have a child. Rather, it points us to Jesus’ incarnate birth through the Virgin Mary. Our God is incarnational. Jesus becomes flesh to make His dwelling among us. And as God incarnate, Jesus knows your heart and your troubles. Even if you cannot explain it, even if you do not have the words to enflesh your troubles, He knows. Thomas – he wanted to know the “where” – where are you going? Jesus directs him to Himself: I am the way, the truth the life. Philip – he wants to know the who – I want to see the Father. Jesus directs him to Himself: Know me, you know the Father. Jesus calls you to Himself, He who is the Way, the Truth, and the Life, who has promised to prepare a place into eternity for you, dear mothers, where one day you will enjoy eternal rest and reward for your faithful labor and labors on earth in this vocation of motherhood.

Do you remember eight weeks ago, when you were shopping, or walking down the sidewalk, or strolling across the park and you would and another person would meet and that awkward dance would begin trying to go past each other, each one of you moving this way at the same time, then that way at the same time, until one or the other would laugh and say, “You go ahead.” Now, take that same picture, but this time, it’s Jesus. He wants to encounter you, he wants to come at you – heart, mind, body and soul – and He smiles at you. He doesn’t laugh at you, but instead speaks softly and gently, firmly and lovingly. He doesn’t push you aside but instead He holds you with His nail-pierced hands and says, “Let not your heart be troubled. I have stripped all of your motherly sins from you – the times you sinned against your children and your spouse and even yourself – they are removed as far as the east from the west. Your guilt, your shame is no more. Don’t let Satan tell you different. I am yours. You are mine. So, let not your heart be troubled, my sister.” He knows us better than we know ourselves.

If you have your Bible open, I want you to look at something. Look closely at verse 1. I’m going to guess your Bible has taken the modern approach of translating the sentence, “Let not your hearts be troubled.” Hearts, plural. Now, that’s interesting. There are lots of plurals all through these verses – plural nouns and pronouns and verbs. But in the original Greek text, your is plural but heart is singular: Let not your (or, as we say in Texas, “all y’all’s”) let not your heart (singular, not hearts) be troubled. English teachers would critique that sentence for failure of subject and verb agreement – plural subject, singular verb. Jesus does it on purpose. Here is why that is such an important note. Remember: He’s not a grammarian; He’s a Savior.

Jesus wants you to know that, in Him, we share a common heart. Each of us have our own heart, yes, and those hearts get twitterpated (great word, right?) over the things that happen to us – that is natural; it’s part of being a human being, under the cross, this side of heaven.  But God’s people have a common heart among us. It is a common heart that we share together, a common heart, filled with the Holy Spirit, that reflects the incarnate One that comes to us and unites us as the body of Christ under His headship. That common heart that encourages, cares for, uplifts, and supports one another even as our hearts race from problems and troubles.

On this Mother’s Day, know this: we men and women, sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, we all share the common heart. And, while the focus today is on mothers, I want this to be clear: all of you women who are not mothers, whether by your choice or by the mystery of God’s action or by the sinfulness of this fallen world, that common heart of Jesus beats in you. United by Christ, we walk alongside you, together, caring for you, loving you, supporting you so that you know that in Christ you are never alone, you are never known by a lack of motherly vocation. Our common heart sets the Lord Jesus Christ before us, 24/7, day in and day out. With that common heart we give thanks to God for you, as well on this day.

On this Mother’s Day, dear mothers, receive this gift of God: the promise that the heart of Jesus beats for you.  He has taken all of your guilt, your shame, your worries, your fears from you. All of the mistakes you have made in the rearing of your sons and daughters, in loving your husband, and in how you see your own self, Jesus strips all of them from you. He has heard your cry, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me,” and He does exactly that. His heart beats alongside yours. Psalm 73 says “Whom have I in heaven but you, and there is none that I desire in earth but you. My heart and my flesh might fail, but God is my heart and my portion forever.” So today or tomorrow morning or Tuesday evening and any other time when your heart is threatened to be overwhelmed, His heart beats all the stronger. When your heart is troubled, His heart beats in peace. When your heart beats with guilt and shame, His heart beats a baptismal blessing reminding you that there is now no condemnation for mothers who are in Christ Jesus.

The Good Shepherd is God's Shepherd - John 10: 1-10

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

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

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

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

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

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

Here is why, on this first Sunday of May, after over a month of separation and isolation that has grown into frustration and agitation, here is why this is such important and good news today.

We are, in the words of Psalm 23, traveling deeply in the valley of the shadow of death. These last six weeks have reminded us just how frail our human wisdom and ability is. We are also reminded how foolish we are to think we know all of our plans for today, let alone tomorrow. Our world, and I use the word both literally and figuratively, has been rocked to our very core. If on Valentines Day you had told anyone that you couldn’t go visit your kids on Easter and your Mom on Mother’s Day because of a threat of a virus, you would have been laughed at and told you have been reading way too many sci-fi books. Yet, here we are.

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

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

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

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

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