Look to Jesus - Hebrews 12:1-3

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

In June, NASA released the pictures of deep space taken from the James Webb space telescope, giving us a sharper and clearer picture of deep space than ever seen. Have you seen these pictures? I have to admit, I spent hours just staring at the computer screen when they came out. The colors, the spots, the swirls of planets and galaxies are so remarkable. Forget the pictures we saw in our science books when we were kids. These brightly and clearly show a vastness and depth of space that is – at least to me – beyond comprehension.

And each picture only shows one small part of outer space. NASA Administrator Bill Nelson described it this way: “If you held a grain of sand on the tip of your finger at arms length, that is the part of the universe you are seeing [in one photo] — just one little speck of the universe.”[1] Imagine it: a spec of sand on your fingertip, and that is just a fraction, a speck of all of the whirling, swirling galaxies, planets, and stars and everything else of what’s all out there.

Now, considering the incredible, beyond-imaginable vastness of space “out there”, turn that around. You, then, become just a spec, just one infinitely small colorful person-spec, on this colorful planet-spec, that is part of this galaxy-spec, that is just one small spec in this portion of space. It’s humbling to realize that we are such an infinitesimally small part of this incredible cacophony and whirling dervish that makes up God’s vast, broad creation. If you let your imagination run wild, it’s actually possible to let this feeling overwhelm you so greatly that it puts you into a panic of sorts, filling you with a sense of lost-ness, wondering how to find one’s place in this vastness. In an article she wrote for State of Faith Newsletter, author Kelcey Dallas admitted that as she looked at these pictures of the vastness, breadth and depth of far outer space, she began to have an existential panic, as if she were suddenly lost, meaningless and worthless amidst all of the space. Fortunately for her, she was given some advice from a friendly scientist who, herself, admitted it was easy enough to lose oneself in the vastness. She told Dallas, “You don’t have to look at the vastness of the universe and feel insignificant. You can look at it and see how great God’s power and love are,” she said.[2]

I could understand that. Everything you and I know on earth has a limit: a river, a lake, the ocean, I-35. But these pictures…it was like looking into a time machine. Scientists talk about the speed of light; that’s 186,000 miles per hour. A light year is how fast and far light travels at that speed over 365 days. Those pictures, with those stars and galaxies that are in the pictures, the light that appears on the picture is 13 billion light years old. The moment of light captured by the Webb telescope’s photos has been traveling for 13 billion years. Now, I know – using Biblical chronology, traditional, conservative Christianity says the earth is approximately 6500 years old. How is it possible that light could then be 13 billion years old? I don’t know. If you pardon an easy out, that’s above my pay grade. But, it is possible, I thought, that the light in those pictures may have been in existence when Adam and Eve walked on earth? We read Genesis chapter one and how God put the sun, moon and stars in the sky and the planets in their orbits with the Earth around the sun. Those pictures, though; they pulled my eyes back up to the heavens and gave me a new perspective on the vastness of what God had made with merely his Word, “Let there be.”

But if you look to the stars and the planets and the solar systems and the galaxies, or even to our own solar system’s Mercury, Venus, Earth, Mars, , Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune – and, yes, I still stick to Pluto, you get a glimpse of the majesty of God and His power. Or, you could look smaller, grab a magnifying glass or microscope and look at small bugs and organisms, viruses and bacteria. You get a sense of God’s great detail in making things work on the micro-cellular level and, again, His majesty and power. Or look at things in-between: the plants and animals and see the similarity yet uniqueness of so much of creation. And it is good, and right, and awe-inspiring to study the incredible wisdom and power of God.

But, if you want to see God, if you want to know God, if you want to understand God, you must look only to Jesus and His cross.

For the last two weeks, we’ve been reading from Hebrews in the Epistle lesson. You heard of this incredible catalog of testimonies, a literal list of the heroes of the faith that go back in time, colorful characters with swirling histories that vacillated back and forth between good and not-so-good, and faithfulness and moments of weakness. The list began with Abel, Enoch, Noah and Abraham, moved through the Judges into the Kings, David, Samuel and the Prophets, all awaiting the fulfillment of their faith in the promises of God. It is the constant refrain through the list: by faith, by faith, by faith, all trusting God and His Word of the Messiah who would come. From the promise to Abraham, “Your descendants will be as numerous as the stars in the sky,” to the promise to David, “Your descendance will remain on the throne,” God’s people trusted that Word when all human evidence pointed to the contrary.

Hebrews 11 began with the simple definition that faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen. The refrain is repeated over and over throughout the chapter, “By faith.” They lived by faith in God’s promises, promises that pointed to an even greater Promise: the promise of the Son of Abraham, the Son of David, the Son of God who would enter into the world to redeem, rescue and save.

If you want to see how great God’s power and love are, you don’t look to the stars and galaxies, you look where God’s people have always looked, by faith: at Jesus. Jesus set aside His full divine power and authority to be born of Mary, to take up human flesh and live in this fallen world and perfectly fulfill the Law of God in our place. He is the perfect sacrifice for people who fail to worship God and who fail to trust His Word; people who instead worship creation rather than Creator; people who trust themselves and their possessions rather than the Giver of the gifts.

The cross is such a strange place to demonstrate power. Death is such a strange way to show authority. The grave is such a strange place to show love. Yet that is exactly where and how Jesus shows His power, and His authority, and His love. His glory is shown at the cross where He completes the Father’s will, the holy being crucified for the unholy, the perfect dying for the imperfect, the One who is Love buried in the earth that He created. And He, who is the Resurrection and the Life, who Himself was raised on the third day, is both the fulfillment of and the continuation of the promises of God, with His own grave-shattering resurrection destroying death forever while also promising you your own, last-day Easter.

That is where you see the power and love of God – at the empty cross and the empty grave.

All of those heroes of faith, they yearned to see it but did not live to see it with their own eyes. You and I join with them, again, by faith, yearning for this promise of Christ to be fulfilled. In these grey and latter days, look to Jesus, the founder and perfector of our faith, who for the joy set before Him, endured the cross. He is now seated at the right hand of God, but He has promised He will return. We may not see it with these eyes, that blessed day of return, but we see it now with eyes of faith, albeit dimly.

And, when this world with its news stories and frightening events seem overwhelming, turn off the news, go outside one evening, turn off all the lights and just look up at the moon, the stars, and galaxies yet unknown. Look up and in those moments of twinkling beauty, you are seeing bits of light that is already ancient. But Jesus was there before that light was even a twinkle in the vastness of space. He is the same yesterday, today and forever, Scripture says, and His love for you will never fail.

Amen.

 

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[1] https://www.deseret.com/u-s-world/2022/7/11/23204684/james-webb-space-telescope-nasa-unveils-the-deepest-ever-view-of-the-cosmos-deep-field

[2] https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/technology/how-should-christians-feel-about-the-new-images-of-outer-space/ar-AA10xyEY?ocid=msedgdhp&pc=U531&cvid=3aa18e23334444aca3a5fe1eb24fe90f 

Dear College Freshman Parents: It's OK

Dear Parents of College Freshmen:

It's going to be OK. 

You are going to be OK, even though your heart feels as if it's a metronome, swinging back and forth between pride at what your child has accomplished and heartache that your house will be emptier in a few days. 

Enjoy those moments of pride. You have every right to be proud of their achievements thus far in life. People talk about how hard your kids have worked; you worked hard right beside them, teaching, helping, encouraging, redirecting, praising, scolding, loving them through the thick and the thin. There were late nights and early mornings, making lunches and driving them to practice, editing papers and re-gluing projects, scrambling to find their band shirt (under the bed, where they swear they looked five times already) and getting it washed and dried, just in time to meet the bus. The pride you felt when the first, or even only, acceptance letter came - remember that.  Those are a measure of your parenting. Don't misunderstand: just because your kid didn't get into Harvard doesn't mean you aren't a successful parent. I mean, they got into college because you helped them get there, alternating between pushing, pulling and praising as applications, FASFA, personality profiles, and other mountains of paperwork were completed for each school. You were part of that, too. 

Then there are the moments of heartache. If you are honest, those are selfish - they are more about you than your kid, and that's OK, too. After all, he is your son; she is your daughter. They have been part of your life since before they were born. You watched them go from a 7 pound bundle of helplessness that needed you for every little thing to being an 18 year old that knows it all, slowly pushing you aside in a show of bravado and independence. There are so many memories that sometimes it's as if you're about to be overwhelmed by emotion. There's the old swing in the back yard where you pushed her in the evenings when she was six, and in the front yard, there's the bent mailbox she hit when backing down the driveway when she was sixteen. There's a picture on the wall of him in his Little League uniform and there's a picture on the refrigerator of him with his girlfriend at the graduation party. Everywhere you turn, there is a memory, a story, and your throat gets tight and your eyes burn and your thoughts get cloudy. 

It's OK. It's OK to be proud. It's OK to be sad. It's OK to even be confused, not quite sure what you're feeling. 

In my experience, it was worse for me when our first kiddo left home. She was young, not even 18. We had, for better or worse, sheltered her as best as we could. She was going to a major university 800 miles away. I was convinced she wasn't ready for it, but in reality, I wasn't ready. I was convinced I hadn't prepared her enough for life, but - unbeknownst to me - she had picked up our values, our morals, our ethic, our faith and was more ready than I realized. 

Too, I think it is harder on the dads than the moms - not that moms hurt less, but because dads are expected to be the macho, tough guys. Speaking for myself, I received very little sympathy from dads whose kids had already gone off to school. Most were full of braggadocio and bravado about how they now had a spare room for a man cave, or how they didn't have to wait up for their kid, or whatever other line of BS they were selling as fertilizer. Mothers talked and listened with my wife and they shared deeply. So, dads - let me encourage you, if you are having raw, hard feelings about your kids leaving home, value those feelings. Honor them and, regardless what your friends might say, treat your thoughts, joys and hurts as true. Find another friend, co-worker, church member, or neighbor who gets it and commiserates together.  

It'll be OK. It'll be OK when you drop them off and leave. It'll be OK when you get home. It'll be OK when she calls home, homesick. It'll be OK when he calls home, heartbroken, telling you to take that picture with his girlfriend and throw it away because they just broke up. It'll be OK when they send you a text asking for money in their bank account because, oops, they ordered too much GrubHub. It'll be OK when they send you an emailed copy of the letter from the Dean's office, commending them for helping save a kid who was choking in the cafeteria. It'll be OK when they come home for fall break, and it'll even be OK when they have to leave again when the break is over. 

In between the black and white of "Great" and "Aweful" is a whole lot of OK. It's OK to be in that grey right now. It's even OK to have some moments that are darker or lighter than others. It's OK to want to hug your kid and never let them go. And, it's OK to want to propel them down the street with a size 13 boot. It's OK to wish they stay home one more year and it's OK to wish them greater and better success than you have ever experienced. 

And, when your son, your daughter, in a moment of tenderness stops and tells you his joys or her fears, give them a great big hug and tell them...tell them that you understand and, yes, it will be OK. 

Then, be OK together. 

Don't Be Anxious - Luke 12: 22-34

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

There are so many things that make us anxious these days. Psychiatry.org cites a June 2022 poll showing that 79% of Americans said they were anxious about inflation, 68% about gun violence, and 63% about the Russia-Ukraine War. About half of those polled also indicated anxiety about climate change, COVID-19, and the midterm elections.[1] It’s not hard to add to the list. We’re anxious about things outside of us: China’s saber rattling over Taiwan, our jobs, the price of groceries and fuel, whether or not we can afford to carry our herd another month. We’re anxious about things inside us: our blood pressure, some recent tests the doctor ordered “just to check some things out,” and why we can’t sleep at night. We’re anxious for things around us: our personal relationships, our kids and for our parents, for the first day of school, and even about what’s for dinner. 

Anxiety is the mind and body's reaction to stressful, dangerous, or unfamiliar situations. It causes a sense of unease, distress or dread. Anxiety is a sign of the times and a hallmark of our culture. While all of us experience small doses of anxiety now and then, millions of Americans suffer from anxiety disorders that cause problems in their ability to function on a daily basis.  

There is much that can modern medicine can do to help someone suffering from anxiety, and if you are one of the estimated 40 million Americans who struggle with it, please know three things: one, I along with others in this sanctuary empathize with you because we have been there or even are there ourselves; two, as you would treat a broken body by seeing a medical doctor, do not hesitate to see a mental health professional to get help for mental and emotional needs; three, if the prospect of getting help scares you, I will gladly go with you to find help. You are not alone. Do not let that anxiety about being anxious drive you to do anything that you cannot undo.  

Medicine and psychology and psychiatry are great tools and gifts God has given to us. The doctors prescribe medications. Therapists listen and provide coping strategies. But there is one aspect of anxiety that doctors usually miss. They can't speak to the soul. 

Theologically speaking, spiritually speaking, pastorally speaking, anxiety is our offering to the false gods of the world to try to keep what we have or gain what we don’t. There is an entire pantheon of them, too. No – they aren’t small statues made of stone or wood. Most don’t have faces. These are the gods – lowercase g – the idols of health, wealth, happiness, self-identity, self-worth, physical security, property, career, education, job. There are more, of course; the list is almost endless. And there’s the god of ourselves. If we can worry enough, fuss enough, hand-wring enough, it’ll all work out. Anxiety is faith that is inverted. If faith is the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen, if Christian faith is grounded in Christ, then anxiety flips it all upside down. Anxiety fools us to think that the unholy trinity of me, myself, and I can save wealth, get healthy, protect against all possible threats, be popular and smart without being arrogant or smug, and perfectly balance home, work, school, the kids, the spouse, and our own mental health and well-being.  The anxiety slowly consumes. I think I can! I think I can. I think I can? By way of analogy, anxiety is to the conscience and soul what cancer is to the body: it keeps gobbling up until it overwhelms and drives us to despair. 

So, when Jesus said, “Do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will put on. For life is more than food and the body more than clothing,” it makes us pause and wonder how on earth we're supposed to not be anxious when all of these things are going on around us. 

It might seem odd that Jesus points us to the birds and the flowers as examples of how not to be anxious. After all, birds don’t have mortgages on their homes and notes on their cars and new schools to attend. Flowers don’t need air conditioners fixed and new clothes for school and blood pressure reduced. They aren’t worried about the economy or the possibility of war or Avian flu or root rot. Their lives, their existence is so simple because they have nothing except what God provides them. Their very existence, from what and where they eat and drink to where they live, is all under the merciful and watchful eye of God who cares for them.

That is Jesus’ very point.  Its an argument from lesser to greater: if it’s true for this, then it’s even more true for that. If God cares for lilies and sunflowers, bluebonnets and Indian blankets; if God cares for ravens and crows, for dove and quail, then how much more will God care for you whom He speaks of as His little flock, the sheep for whom Jesus stands as Good Shepherd. 

Little flock…That’s shepherd talk. That’s Good Shepherd talk. This is Jesus talking - not a doctor, a therapist, a barber, a hairdresser, a bartender or any other person you pour your anxiousness out to. This is Jesus, and He is speaking of His Father’s flock.  He is speaking of you. Sheep are always calm when they are in the presence of their shepherd. They know his voice, his hands, his calming presence. So, dear little flock, listen to the voice of the Good Shepherd. When He says “Do not be anxious,” heed His words. After all, He knows full well what it is to have nothing – not even a place to lay his head. He knows what it is to face uncertainty, hunger, the loss of a friend. He knows what it is to face death, both of others and His own. He knows what it is to be completely alone. He knows what it is to be mocked, betrayed and hated to death. He knows what it is to be surrounded by the silence of God, who doesn’t seem to answer His cries of agony while sweat and blood dripped from His body. Instead of anxiety, Jesus trusts His Father so deeply, that whether hungry and alone against the devil, or thirsty and alone suspended on the cross, He is able to commend Himself to the Father’s perfect will, the Shepherd who will die to rescue and save the sheep from their anxieties.

I want you to know, I am preaching to myself today - not just you. I have a couple of things that really make me anxious and two in particular. No, I won’t tell you what they are. But, I will say that when it kicks in, boy is it a doozie.  Anxiety turns me into a hand-wringing, chin-rubbing, do-it-myself-er. One of my favorite BIble verses is 1 Peter 5:7, “Cast all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.” It’s the exact, same word Jesus uses: do not be anxious; instead, cast the anxieties upon Jesus. He has taken them from you, placed them on HIs back and took them to the cross. He bled for them. He died for them. He drug them with Him to the tomb. And He did not bring them back to life with Him on Easter morning. You have been baptized into His death. Your anxious, Old Adam and anxious Old Eve also died with Jesus. Leave them in the tomb. Leave them in the font. If Anxious Adam and Anxious Eve try to bob their anxious selves to the surface again, repent and drown them again with Christ. Faith clings to Jesus, and when hands are full of the cross, when they are full of the Savior’s robes, there is no room for anxiety or the things that we are anxious about.   

And, remember, if you see your doctor or a therapist for anxiety, please don’t forget your pastor - not because he's nosey, an emotional voyeur, but because he’s the undershepherd to the Good Shepherd. Your pastor walks with you in the darkness. He hears your confession, of the things that make you anxious, of the things you try to control, of the things that try to control you. And, unless you’re a danger to yourself or a loved one, he cannot tell anyone. It dies with him, too. What your pastor will do is hear and absolve and bless in the name of the Good Shepherd and with His words of grace, mercy and compassion. 

Whether you experience that momentary jolt of anxiety or you deal with it as a daily grind, I want you to notice this: Jesus doesn’t rebuke you. He doesn’t scold you. He doesn’t guilt or shame you that you are “less-than” because of anxiety. He simply says, “Do not be anxious. Instead, cast it on me. I’ve already taken it from you. Trust me. Stop trying to take it back. Stop trying to put me out of a job as your Savior and do it yourself. Rather than wringing your hands or rubbing your chin or running your hands through your hair, fold your hands in repentance and then open them in faith at the Table this morning. To you, Jesus says “Take and eat; take and drink. Your anxiety is taken and my Body and Blood is given. Be at peace and be anxious no more.” And in that moment, the Good Shepherd fills your hands with His grace, mercy, and love without end. 

 

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[1] https://www.psychiatry.org/news-room/news-releases/apa-summer-poll-june-2022

 

Emptying the Barns and Being Filled with Christ - Luke 12: 13-22

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

Jesus said, “Take care, and be on your guard against all covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions.”

A few moments ago, we spoke the Commandments together. The 9th and 10th speak of the gift of possessions and belongings as being gifts of God and being content with what He gives. The 9th and 10th Commandments also warn of a duality of idolatry: first, the things we covet become gods in and of themselves; and second, we make ourselves out to be equal with God as if we know better what it is that we need. It’s a failure of faith and trust: since He’s not providing it, we seek to acquire it ourselves and, not believing He will provide tomorrow’s daily bread tomorrow, we stockpile in fear. 

I suggest that it is more difficult than ever to avoid coveting. After all, our culture and society literally have a whole industry whose job is nothing more than to inspire within us a burning desire to acquire ever more stuff. Wherever you turn, you are bombarded by advertisements to buy, buy, buy. And, buy we do – quickly accelerating from true need to want to desire to greed. And, then if someone else has what I don’t have, or if I can get it before someone else does, or even if I have eight of the same thing already but need - nay, want - number nine, then coveting ensues.

I heard a drug addict say the reason heroin is so addictive and deadly is that a little is too much but too much is never enough. The same is true of acquiring possessions. For many people, making a purchase releases a chemical in the brain not all that unlike a drug. It feels good, and we want to duplicate it again. That’s a scientific explanation. As Christians, we know another answer: covetousness and excess. How many of us don’t have closets so full of clothes that we can hardly fit another thing in amongst all the others? How many pair of shoes are on the floor? How many toys are in the toy box? How many hammers, screwdrivers, and wrenches are scattered among the various toolboxes in the shop? How many books line the wall of a pastor’s study? For that matter, how many of us have closets and garages that are so full of things that we have to also rent a storage locker?

I suspect that for many of us, hearing this parable and then thinking about our clothes and our cars, our garages and our Gucci, our investments and our retirement accounts, we are in an uncomfortable place. After all, we could see ourselves in the rich farmer’s position without too much trouble. He has a windfall crop and seeing that his barns aren’t big enough, he builds newer, bigger barns so he is able to enjoy life and not work so hard the rest of his life. This is the American dream; it seems this man is practicing worldly wisdom. He’s not stealing from anyone – it came out of his fields. Likewise, don’t read into the parable: there’s no reason to find that he is selfish or that he didn’t follow the law and leave edge-rows for widows and the poor to harvest.

Let me say this: possessions in and of themselves are not intrinsically wicked. In fact, they are gifts God gives to us for the wellbeing of ourselves, our family, and our neighbors. Likewise, it is not a sin to be wealthy or to have nice things, be it technology, or a house, or family, or anything else. The problem is that possessions are fundamentally dangerous because it is so terrifyingly easy for them to become the all-encompassing thing we desire.

Jesus asks the question: of what does your life consist? The teaching was inspired because someone asked Jesus to intervene and make a brother split the family inheritance. It seems he is more worried about getting what is his than anything else. Jesus is standing right there in front of the man, but he only wants Jesus to be a legal representative.  He is not seeking the Kingdom of God and the gifts Jesus delivers in life, salvation, and the Spirit of God, gifts that last into eternity, but rather he is seeking gifts that last but only a lifetime. That, then, becomes the motive of the foolish farmer: planning for a lifetime.

Jesus tells the parable so the man would see himself as the rich farmer. In the parable, we hear the conversation that the farmer has with himself as he makes his plans. “I will tear down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.”’

There’s a bit of wordplay here. Our translation speaks of his soul. A better way to understand this is “life,” as in what is at the center of a person’s being. Listen again: “I will say to my life, ‘Life, you have ample goods laid up for many years…” That helps clarify the issue. The problem is man always has a very narrow and nearsighted view of what “life” means. He sees life as nothing more than eating, drinking and being merry. Again, nothing wrong with eating, drinking, or celebrating – all in moderation, of course – but when that’s all that life is, then life is very hollow. The rich man is quoting the Preacher in Ecclesiastes, “Eat, drink, and be merry,” and he wants to use that for his life’s philosophy.

Sadly, he forgot the Preacher’s warning: Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die. In the parable, God subpoenas the farmer for judgement. Because his heart was only filled with his own, selfish desires for a lifetime, his lifetime is cut short without any life to come that has been won by Christ. Lifeless and Saviorless, the rich fool dies into eternity.

OF what does your life consist? Are our hearts, our minds, our eyes, our very lives centered in the coming of the Kingdom of God in Christ Jesus, or do they wander elsewhere, distracted by the world in which we live? Examine your heart, your mind, your eyes, your lives. Where are your desires? Wherein does your trust lie? We quickly realize that there are many things that get in the way of our life being centered in Jesus Christ as our hearts, our minds, and our lives are led astray from the cross of Jesus to the covetousness of the world in which we live. The parable makes us uncomfortable because we see ourselves in it. While we may try to justify ourselves, our actions, our covetousness – everyone else is doing it! He who isn’t first is last! Gotta look out for number one! Who else is going to care for my family! – but we cannot justify ourselves against God.

The need for repentance is strong and clear. Of what does your life consist? Is it seeking after earthly blessings, belongings, daily bread things? Again, its not that these are bad - in fact, we pray for daily bread in the Lord’s Prayer. It’s allowing the needs to become excessive so that the desire to acquire more overwhelms. Instead of allowing possessions to be your identity, remember your identity in Christ. You are baptized in Christ. Christ is the center. Your life is hidden with Christ in God. Christ the center of your work, your play, your worship, your wealth, your possessions. He was rich but became poor. He lived our life under the sun. He worked, He rested, He bled and died. His death was not a vanity of vanities but a holy of holies. He redeems and reconciles and raises up your work out of its emptiness and meaninglessness.  He lifts it up as a sweet smelling priestly sacrifice. He is a the heart and center of all things.

This changes your perspective. Your land, your house, your wealth, your barns and silos, your grain, your profits and portfolios, everything is God’s, not yours. They are all on loan from God. You are stewards, caretakers. You are not your own, either. You’ve been purchased with a price, the life of Jesus, His blood, His death. He became poor that you might be rich in eternal riches. You are God’s treasured possession, enabling you to hold your treasured possessions with the dead hand of faith – offering, sharing, giving.

And, if you want to love Jesus more while loving your possessions less, give away more of your money – not all of it, but more of it. And I don’t necessarily mean to Zion or the pew fund or the campers fund or whatever your favorite project here might be. Give elsewhere to those who have so little: Habitat for Humanity, Christ’s Kitchen, VCAM, Golden Crescent Food Bank, Lutheran World Relief, Orphan Grain Train. Literally, the list is endless. Then, cull from your closet and garage and storage locker – and I don’t mean just the stuff that went out of fashion during the first Bush and Clinton years. There is plenty there you don’t need, let alone use. Give it away, no strings attached, so that the strings can’t pull back at you. As your hands let go of the stuff, you’ll be amazed how much more room there is for Jesus and His cross.  

Then, filled with Jesus, centered in Jesus, living in Jesus, eat, drink and rejoice, for in Him, nothing is vanity.

The Privilege of Praying from a Holy Place - Genesis 18:20-33

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

I was trying to encourage people to come to church early, to come into the sanctuary in solitude and quiet and use the time pre-service to engage in prayer with the Lord. The Divine Service was at 9am; we opened the sanctuary doors at 8am for prayer. It didn’t matter if it was prayers printed in the front of the hymnal, or a Psalm, or a favorite hymn, or something that was simply from the heart, but the encouragement was for people to be in prayer.

If you want to know what is on a person’s mind or on their heart, listen to what is in their prayers. There you will find the most intimate and personal thoughts, needs, concerns, hopes, joys, and praises of a person – things that they won’t tell a spouse or parent, a child or a sibling, a best friend or even their pastor, people will carry to the Lord in prayer. This is good that, in faith, those intimate words and thoughts, and sometimes groans and moans, are delivered to the Lord. He wants us to pray to Him. He invites us to pray, He calls us to pray, He commands us to pray – not in threatening, snarling Uncle Sam “I want you!” manner, but like a parent saying to his or her child, “Go ahead, tell me.”

Those Sunday mornings God’s faithful people entered the sanctuary to pray. At first, most were timid – almost as if they were embarrassed being caught praying in church. And, most prayed silently, one or two murmuring a few words here or there, lips moving to form words that were more sounds than vocable. And, then it happened. A woman asked if it would be OK if she prayed out loud – that is how she prayed at home, and it felt awkward praying silently. She began to speak her prayers, not Pharisaically loud so all could hear and marvel at her faith, but conversationally, as if God were sitting next to her and she was simply talking to Him. She prayed for a friend who was sick, and for her adult kids who didn’t know Jesus, and her grandkids who did but were facing strong temptations. She prayed for me, for the preaching and teaching, and for others who would be at the church that morning. She prayed without timidity or embarrassment. A few weeks later, a man prayed out loud – not as eloquently, but in its simplicity, there was beauty. He prayed for rain for the hay and for his cattle to grow so he could feed his family, for a family member in prison, for another family member being sued. In those moments, in those prayers, the faithfulness of God’s people was evident as they laid their petitions open before God and before brothers and sisters in Christ.

You have a moment such as that in this morning’s Old Testament reading from Genesis 18. I would encourage you this afternoon to open your Bible and read the chapter in its entirety. This morning, we are privileged to overhear a conversation, a prayer offered by Abraham to the Lord God. This is an intimate conversation, spoken from his heart to the ears of the Lord, offered in faith and in confident hope that the Lord will hear and respond.

Abraham is standing on a hill outside the two cities of Sodom and Gomorrah, looking down into the lush, green valley below. But, he’s not there looking at the beauty of the fields, or calculating how many head of animals he could be running if the land was his. Instead, he is standing in a perilous place. He has just entertained three angels who told him of the Lord’s anger and coming wrath against the cities. Sodom and Gomorrah – just the names invoke the image of wanton, open sinfulness that would make Vegas, New Orleans, Singapore, and Amsterdam blush in shame. So great, so grievous, so wretched was their sin that the Lord has heard their debauchery from the heights of heaven and He has descended to see it Himself. And when the Lord sees and when He hears, He declares He will bring down, not water, but fire and He will destroy the cities and everyone who lives therein. And Abraham, as he looks down into the valley, he sees what is about to come as the wrath of the Lord rolls toward the cities like a massive wall of fire.

Put yourself in Abrahams’s sandals for a minute. What would you do? What would you do if you were standing there, having received this word of warning from God Himself, and now you are about to witness the sheer terrifying and awful wrath of God poured out on those who deserve it most?

One option is to turn away, to run away and hide. My oldest daughter would say, “Not your monkey, not your circus.” Translation: it’s not your problem. After all, you are safe and you are saved, so grab your wife, run back inside, tie the tent flaps and tell her, “You’re probably going to hear something terrible but don’t worry. It’s God just giving them what they deserve. So, what’s for supper?”

Another option is to grab your servants – you have plenty of them, after all – arm them tooth and nail and go down there and be an instrument of the Lord’s wrath. Our anger mingles with God’s, justifying our vengeance, serving the Lord, delivering His vengeance and showing our displeasure at what the neighbors have done.  Onward Yawheh’s soldiers, heading down to war, with our bows and arrows, settling God’s score… 

Depending on the day, depending on how I feel, I could see myself doing one…or the other. How about you?

But Abraham, Abraham does the most amazing thing. He doesn’t run; he doesn’t arm up for battle. He prays. He simply prays. Now, I’ll agree that it’s the most unusual prayer. It’s not like anything you’ll find in the front of our hymnals. It’s unlike any Psalm. It’s probably unlike anything you would ever pray. In fact, it sounds more like a business negotiation, a merchant bargaining for a bargain. “Lord God, if there are 50 righteous, faithful people in the city, surely you wouldn’t destroy them along with all the wicked? You are merciful and gracious. Far be it from you to sweep away the righteous and the wicked!” And the Lord says, alright, for the sake of 50 I will not destroy the city. Abraham prays again, “What if there are five fewer – what if there are 45? Will you destroy the city with 45 righteous people?” The Lord agrees – for 45 he will spare the city. Again and again Abraham prays, arguing for, leaning on, imploring for the mercy of God: 40, 30, 20, 10, like an auctioneer calling out for the best price, Abraham pleads God to spare the city for the sake of ten righteous people. And God agrees – for the sake of ten righteous, He will spare the city.

When there are lives in the balance, in human agony Abraham implores God’s mercy and compassion. But notice, also, the faith of Abraham. Holding on to the God that He knows through the covenant. When faced with this God, the God of wrath and judgement, seeing the wrath of God, Abraham holds on to the mercy of God, and He does it because He has heard another sound – not the sound of man’s sinfulness, but the sound of the song of Zion.

When the Lord visited Abraham under the tree at Mamre at the beginning of the chapter, the message was that Abraham, who had prayerfully asked God for a son, would indeed have a son within a year. A Son of the promise. And God promised that Abraham would be a great nation through that one son. And, through that nation, all nations of the world would be blessed. So, standing on that hillside, with the sinful world below and the wrath of God above him, Abraham clings to the mercy of God.

That is the privilege of prayer. It is a privilege that we desperately need today. Think of it. We are here on the crest of this hillside of Zion, looking down into the sinful world around us. It doesn’t take long to hear it, the sin of the world, does it. Turn on the radio, the TV, and listen to any news station. If you really want to be brave, turn off all filters and risk an internet search. It’s easy to hear of, to see the sin of the world. Another shooting last week, this time inside a mall. Sexual immorality, homosexuality, heterosexual promiscuity is not only on the city streets and in sleezy hotels but in the privacy of our living rooms thanks to www-dot-you-don’t-want-to-know.com. Businesses are oppressing the poor in the ever-ending desire for profits. Civic leaders line their pockets while ordinary citizens dig deep and find coins that go less and less far. We hear this, and we recognize it all for what it is, great and grievous against both God and man. And, if we hear it you know God hears it as well and what it is like for his ears as we all have fallen so far from the glory of His creation.

How do you live? How do you live as a Christin in that world? You can run – there is just too much, to great a force against us. Some will retreat into their homes, into some sort of Christian solitude, into their church buildings, thanking God they are saved. Others – others run into the battle with hatred. You see them, don’t you? They carry posters, “God hates ______.” They get on busses, ride motorcycles, and shout the message to the world that God hates them. Some run away; some run in.

And then there’s another way. There is another way to live, you know. There is the way of Abraham. Remember - Abraham stands on the crest of the hill before the Lord and with His wrath coming, Abraham prays. He prays for the fallen world. That is a holy place. That is a holy conversation with God, set apart by God for you. Think about it: when Jesus died on the cross, he was there on the crest of a hillside outside the world and from there He could see the whole, fallen world in front of Him and below Him. The sin of the world was seen and heard, from Adam and Eve to the day He returns, and He heard the outcry of the sin-stained world in the mocking words of the religious leaders, “If you really are who you say you are, save yourself and come down from the cross!”

But He didn’t. He didn’t come down from the cross because He didn’t come to save Himself. He came to save you. He came to save this world, this fallen world that you live in. And when Jesus was dying, He heard another sound – the sound, not of God’s wrath, but the song, a faint strain of the song of salvation of Zion. Jesus opened His mouth in prayer, “Father, forgive them.” His Father heard, and He answered. Just as you are privileged to hear Abraham’s prayer, you are also privileged to hear Jesus’ prayer, and when you overhear that prayer, you are taken to the heart of your Savor.  God forgives you -not for the sake of 50 righteous, or 40 or 30 or 20 or even 10. God forgives you for the sake of the One who is truly Righteous, Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who bore the wrath of God for you. There He was with the wrath of God above Him, the sinful world below Him, and the entire wrath of God was poured out on that One Man so that the entire mercy of God could be poured out on the world.

And the Lord Jesus calls you and me and His church. He calls us to stop running away from the world in fear. He calls us to stop running into the world with hate. He calls us to stand. Stand here with Him. Stand here in Him. And join your voice to sing that song of Zion. Abraham sang it. Jesus sang it for you. And now you have the privilege of singing the song for the world.

So, what does that look like? It’s not as easy as it sounds for Abraham. It’s not like God wakes you up one morning with a text telling you what’s going to happen to those people over yonder. But, at the same time, it’s not as difficult as we make it out to be. It’s not that we have to get up at 5am so we can spend 2 hours in prayer before getting breakfast, praying for this world and those around us; or, that we need special prayer formulas and books and places to pray. Actually, it’s much more simple than that. It looks like life. Tuesday morning, you’re heading to work and you pass an accident on the side of the road. Firetrucks, ambulance, police cars, all surround 8000 pounds of metal that used to be two cars. Or Friday, you turn on the TV at lunchtime to hear the news break in that there was a mass casualty event – details are sketchy – but you think of the families. Or in Sundays prayers, you are reminded that there are brothers and sisters in Christ who are suffering mightily, even if you don’t know the details. And, in those minutes, you think of those people involved, and you think of your own family, and you find yourself longing for the kingdom of God and the coming of Jesus to end the hurt and pain and senseless destruction that we all-too-often create on this earth. And, in that moment, you are given the privilege of prayer.

Now, I admit – it doesn’t sound like prayer, not like the ones you learned as a kid, or the ones we pray formally in worship, and it doesn’t even sound like Abraham. Instead, it sounds like fear and anger and worry and frustration and sadness, all wrapped up into one gracious yearning for God’s mercy in the face of sin we cannot take away. And in that moment is a holy place and a holy conversation. And, in that moment, God’s kingdom comes in a very small way. You, God’s people are alive, singing the song of Zion as best they can with words that are more frustrated than sentimental , more grasping than glorious. Gods people pray for His mercy and for His kingdom to come.

So, no matter where you are, when you are in that prayer, you are near, very near, the heart of Your Savior. And that is the privilege of prayer to Our Father.

 

 

I Did Not Marry My Best Friend

My Dad was a big Marty Robbins fan. I remember Dad singing along with the mustachioed musician yodeling about El Paso City, standing alongside Big Iron, and then taking a trip back through time through the Badlands of New Mexico. I remember the day Marty died and how that stunned Dad. I don't think he ever engaged in "hero worship" - that would have been a waste of time - but there was something about his death that caught Dad off guard. As I recall, Marty died from complications after heart surgery. I, too, have a bit of the Marty Robbins bug and enjoy listening to his music and watching the old videos of his performances in Elvis-esque bedazzled and bejeweled costumery.

I don't know how many awards he won in his musical career, but I know Marty won a Grammy for writing one titled, "My Woman, My Woman, My Wife." While it is a bit chintzy - especially the last two verses that talk about God giving Mrs. Robbins Marty's share of heaven for putting up with him (heaven doesn't work that way) - it is still a strong statement of his love for her.

Eyes, that show some disappointment
And there's been quite a lot in her life
She's the foundation I lean on
My woman, my woman, my wife

Tomorrow, July 13, 2022, my wife and I will celebrate 26 years of marriage. We've known each other longer than we've not known each other, and adding in our dating years, it's close to three decades of being together.

We met in college. I still remember seeing her walk across campus and asking my roommate, "Who's that?" When he told me, I said, "I want to get to know her." She worked security on campus, and I would conveniently wait until the evenings she was on duty to go to the student center (where the security desk was located) to check my mail or play ping-pong or shoot pool. One day while she was checking her own mail box, I heard her say "No one ever sends me anything!" The next day, I bought a small card at the bookstore and sent it through campus mail to her. It wasn't anything that would get me arrested by today's "woke" standards, just a note that was signed "Nobody Ever." Then, I hung around waiting for her to check her mail again. It took forever, it seemed, and when she opened the card and read it, she said, "What the heck is this - and who is 'Nobody Ever'?"

I "just happened" to be nearby, so I said, "The other day, I remember you said 'nobody ever' sends you mail...I guess he finally did." I would like to say that I remember her blushing, then touching my arm with a warm hand and asking if I was the anonymous writer, but I don't recall exactly how things progressed. Our first date was a disaster - if you want to ask her, you certainly can - it truly a miracle there was a second date, but there was, an indication of the grace that lives in her heart. And there was a break-up that took place in Zilker Park that lasted seven of the longest days of my life. And then there was the ring I bought that I asked her to pick out. And there was a beastly hot Saturday afternoon at Hope Lutheran Church in Austin, Texas where family and friends gathered to help us celebrate our "I do's" and "I will's".

And, by the powers vested in the clergy (we had three - her pastor and two of my uncles) by the State of Texas, we became husband and wife. I married my love, my sweetheart, my girlfriend, my darling.

You sometimes hear people say "I married my best friend." Nope. Not me. I did not marry my best friend.

I do have a best friend - he's a good man, a Godly man, a faithful husband and father, a solid provider, a good neighbor. I've known him since the first day of class in the fall of 1992, when we ran into each other in the library. He noticed the textbook I was reading and asked what I thought of the prof. A recent transplant from New York, I actually laughed at his traditional Noo Yawhk accent. But, we've been friends since then. He's listened to my hurts and broken heart and I have listened to him. I helped him work on his house. He helped me put together a swing-set for my kids. He and his wife are baptismal sponsors for our kids and we are sponsors for their kids. As his friend, I am called to love him as his neighbor and help him to the best of my ability.

But, a friend's love is different from the love of a husband and wife. As her husband, I am called by God to love my wife to the point of surrendering everything, even my very life, for her. I am to love her in sickeness and health, in wealth and poverty, in joy and sorrow. I made her that promise and, God willing, I intend to honor it until one of us draws our final breath. And, we have had our share of those polar opposites. We have had to count pennies to buy milk and bread, and we have been able to buy other people's groceries who had run out of their own pennies. I held her hand when we were scared about our kids, and I wrapped her in my arms and just held her when we lost one to miscarriage. When things were bad - really bad - and all could do was wrap her in prayers, I did that. And when I hit a really bad, dark spot, and literally could not talk about it, she held me. She held my hand when I had an owie on my finger from an accident in the shop, when I spilled hot soup in my lap and needed a tetanus booster. When my back went out and I couldn't tie my shoes, she stooped down and tied my shoes for me after helping wrestle my prosthetics on my feet. I've told her hard truths and she has told me harder truths. She's called out my mistakes and she's forgiven them. She still loves me. And I still love her.

No, I didn't marry my friend. I married my wife.

Sing it, Marty...

Everyday has been uphill
Oh, we climb but we can't reach the top
I'm weak and I'm easily discouraged
She just smiles when I want to stop

Lips, that are weary but tender
With love, that strengthens my life
A saint, in a dress made of gingham
My woman, my woman, my wife

She's stood next to me while we made our way up mountains and when there were molehills I had no idea how to climb. She helped pick me up when I crashed and burned. On days I wanted to quit, she told me she would stick with me whatever I decided to do. On days I thought the cup was half empty and had a hole in the bottom, she reminded me the glass can always be refilled. She's kissed tears from my cheeks and kissed my lips so my heart skipped a beat. Hubba hubba. She's my woman; she's my wife.

This is my favorite picture of Laura. She's dressed in jeans of denim and a blouse of some kind of synthetic polyester. It was at a family Christmas at her parent's house, oh - I don't know, anymore - ten, twelve years ago. I have lots of pictures of her. Some are with me, or with the kids, and some are just her by herself. There's even a few from when we were dating, and I still have a picture of the group we were with for our first "just friends' event in 1994. I have a lousy snapshot from our wedding (long story, but if you are ever in charge of photographs for a wedding, hire a professional and not just someone who "can take pretty good pictures of stuff"). This black and white picture shows not just her beauty but her joy, her happiness, her open spirit, and her tender heart. If I had to have just one picture, if I had to trade every other picture in order to have just one, this would be the one. It's a picture of my wife.

Only the Lord knows what year #27, and following, holds for us. I suppose we are about even, years behind us vs years ahead of us. If she asks me tomorrow, "Knowing what you know now, would you do it all again?" I know exactly what I'll say. I'll hold her in my arms, look down into her green eyes, and say, "Nope... There are lots of things I would change. But the one thing I wouldn't change is marrying you."

After all, she's my woman, my woman, my wife.

July 13, 1992
and
a few months ago

She loves tulips. I didn't know this until year #24. 

An Un-American 4th of July Sermon - Romans 13:1-7

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

Ah, yes – the great American holiday, July 4, celebrated with fireworks, picnics, hot-dog eating contests, and homemade ice cream. Veterans will walk or ride with actively serving military personnel along the parade route. Someone will sing “The Star Spangled Banner.” Politicians will give speeches that sound like sermons and pastors will deliver sermons that sound more like political speeches. Both will invoke God’s name and supposed favor for their cause while implying His displeasure at the other side. They will close partly praying, partly boasting, “God bless America.”

This is not one of those sermons. And for the next fifteen minutes or so, I ask that you be neither the group that cheers nor sneers, but instead, listen to the Word of the Lord and what it says for us as Christians who are in, yet not of, this world. Perhaps you will agree; perhaps you will be challenged. I pray the Holy Spirit will change your opinion of how to act and interact as Christians who are also citizens. 

St. Paul writes in Romans 13, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God. Therefore, whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgement. For rulers are not a terror to good conduct, but to bad. Would you have no fear of the one who is in authority? Then do what is good, and you will receive his approval, for he is God’s servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God’s wrath on the wrongdoer. Therefore, one must be in subjection not only to avoid God’s wrath but also for the sake of conscience. For because of this you also pay taxes, for the authorities are ministers of God attending to this very thing. Pay to all what is owed: taxes to whom taxes are owed, revenue to whom revenue is owed, respect to whom respect is owed, honor to whom honor is owed.”

Paul says governmental authority is a gift of God. Luther agreed and placed government under the category of the 4^th commandment, an extension of the parental vocation by way of being God’s representative. Thus, from the top floor of the White House to the humblest civil servants, all are gifts. God places all authority as His representative on earth for the purpose of good order.

Whether you like or dislike a particular government official or office, and whether or not a politician believes it, understands it, or recognizes it, they are God’s servant and representative. In our country, God even uses the American voter. Take heart; fear not. He is God; I assure you, He is in control.  And, He does care how government is run – it is His representative. He desires that it governs fairly, in justice, for good order, with eyes toward the weakest and most feeble. He desires that officials and citizens show love, mercy and compassion to each other in word and action. He uses government so that First Article blessings, such as protection and daily bread, can be administered.  What God does not care about is who resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave, or the governor’s mansion, or the mayor’s seat. He doesn’t care who has the majority in the county commissioners court or if there are more donkeys or elephants in Congress. He uses whom He will.

You might be shaking your head and ready to argue this. That can’t be true; God surely doesn’t want so & so in office. Remember: Paul wrote Romans late in the first century. At that time, the Roman Empire was ruled by Nero, one of the worst of all Roman emperors. He was not just a heathen; he was wicked. He eagerly sought out Christians, persecuting them by the hundreds. The gruesome death of Christians was a game, a sport to him. The Romans considered him to be a god. Yet, it’s as if Paul is saying, “Even this evil man who does wicked things to his countrymen and slaughters Christians for sport is an instrument of God.”

This does raise the question of how and why God would use someone so evil and unfaithful to be His instrument to represent Him. Why would God allow a man like Nero, or Hitler, or Pol Pot, or the leader of ISIS to be in control? It’s a question whose answer is largely hidden from us and we dare not answer where the Scriptures are silent. We know this is true: “Those who abuse their God-given authority…will come under the judgement of God,” if not in this lifetime, in the life that is to come. (ROMANS, Middendorf, 1300n53). It is also true that God is at work even when hidden behind someone who is, or who appears to be, wicked and opposed to God. Under Nero’s persecution, the church scattered, taking and spreading the Good News of Jesus with them. In the Old Testament, Esther’s husband, King Cyrus, who was Persian, rescued Esther’s fellow Judean countrymen from destruction. Daniel told King Nebuchadnezzar, who vacillated back and forth in faithfulness, “The Most High rules the kingdom of men and gives it to whom He will,” (Dan. 4:25). When He was on trial, Jesus told Pilate “You would have no authority against me at all unless it had been given you from above,” (Jn 19:11). We must leave the question with this: “it’s not the wickedness of individual rulers that comes from God, but the establishment of the ruling power itself,” (ROMANS, Middendorf, 1299n50). In a sense, it’s distinguishing the office from the office-holder, but even then, God works through that person in the office.

Regardless, all people – and especially Christians – are called to be subject to, or to submit themselves to the authorities. When it’s our party, our candidate, that’s easy (or at least easier) to do; when we disagree, it’s much more difficult. Conventional wisdom says line up with signs up! Protest! Burn, loot and plunder to show our displeasure! Spread ugly stories on social media, call them names, make politics personal. Defy those in authority, urge unrest, and dare them to arrest you until you get what you want.

This is the way the world operates, not how you are called to live as people of God in the world. There is much to repent of regarding out attitude towards the government. With our words, our actions, our social media posts, with the very thoughts in our hearts and minds, we sin against these men and women whom God places in authority for His purpose. We hold anger and hatred in our hearts. We seek to ruin reputations. It is easy, and it is tempting to jump in – especially in the relative anonymity of social media. We cast aspersions on those whom we don’t like. We lust for power, greater wealth, and whatever will get us more of each. We covet what we don’t have. We carry those thoughts from an official or a party to those who support him or her. We justify ourselves: it’s just words; not a big deal. Besides the other side is doing it worse than me. We see people as enemies. How many relationships have been destroyed, how many families have been separated because of political disagreements? Jesus warns that it is as much a sin to do that as it is to assault the man or woman when He says if you call a man “fool,” you are guilty of murder.

More than that, we sin against God Himself. Ours is a sin of idolatry, gross idolatry in line with ancient Israel. A god is anything in which we place our fear, love and trust, and for all too many, god is the trinity of the Constitution, the Declaration of Independence and the Dollar, and our candidate, our politician, our party is its anointed savior. When we do speak of God, it is more of a nationalistic deism that we confess rather than the Triune God of the Christian faith. We misuse God’s name in pretending to speak for what He approves or disapproves.

Your submission to their authority doesn’t depend on opinion, agreement, party affiliation, or anything else. There are no qualifications given or exceptions made. If you choose to stand against the authorities, you also chose to stand against God. You follow the law of the land, because those laws are established through the authority of God. IF you don’t like the laws, the policies, the decisions of the government, then follow the law of the land in how to change those rules. Yet do it with the grace and compassion of a man like Paul who well understood what it is to suffer under the laws of the land for the sake of Jesus.

It is interesting that God used His own chosen, earthly representative to be the instrument by which His Son was sacrificed. The Jewish leaders, Pilate, the judicial system – all were guilty of murder of an innocent Man who humbled Himself to be born under the Law of God and man. Jesus did not argue; He did not call down an angelic swat team to rescue Him; He did not summon the wrath of God to stop a corrupt political process. Instead, He prayed for the forgiveness of those who killed him. He prayed for the forgiveness of those whose sins He carried. He died for those who loved Him and stood at the foot of the cross weeping, and He died for the people who denied Him and mocked Him even to His dying breath.

Paul is deliberate and careful in his word choice. To be subject to, or to submit to is not the same thing as blind conformity and total obedience in every instance.  The early church knew that there will be times that we must obey God rather than man (Acts 5:29).

There will be times that the Church, the body of Christ, may choose to be noncompliant and directly disobey human authorities when they go against God and His Word. For the last 50 years, Christians chose to protest laws and the services who provided life-ending abortion services. Christians did so, knowing that various civil charges could be brought against them. Laity and pastors received a criminal record. Yet, their conscience told them that they must stand up for life and the Word of God regarding the sanctity of human life and against the rules and laws who said otherwise. But, even in their protests, they were usually gentle, compassionate, and eager to share the love of Jesus with those who needed to hear of His grace. Another example: some countries have laws that make preaching or teaching against homosexuality and the LGBTQ lifestyle to be a hate crime. Lutheran pastors in Finland and Canada have been arrested and charged for breaking the law in their preaching. I will not be surprised if such a law happens here, eventually. If it does, clergy and congregations will have to make the difficult choice – do we obey God and His Word and proclaim sin as sin, or do we go along and get along for the sake of careers and tax benefits? Even so, it remains that we are subject to the temporal governmental authority, even if that involves punishment for the stance the Church must take.

“Neither America, nor democracy, nor capitalism, nor socialism, nor military might, nor diplomacy can even come close to beginning to solve the problems that exist in this world. Even in America, without Christ, we are without hope. And really, what a wonderful message of joy that is. It is not man that will change the world, but Christ alone, for in the end, the world cannot be changed; it is fully and completely at enmity with God.” (Lutherans for Life Facebook post, July 3, 2022)

So, what are we to do? Pray for them. Not about them, lamenting and complaining to God, but for them, carrying their names and offices to the ears of the Almighty. St. Paul wrote to Timothy, “I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way. This is good, and it is pleasing in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.”

Again, notice – Paul doesn’t say pray for those whom you like. Without qualification, pray for all…in high positions. Pray for their wisdom to make Godly decisions, their compassion for the weak, their strength of character. Pray that they stand against temptation for arrogance and resist corruption. Pray that they listen and hear. Pray that they understand their authority comes from God and that they are His agents. Pray that they defend the innocent and seek appropriate justice against those who harm others. Pray they are led to repentance for what they do wrong, knowingly or unintentionally. Pray they govern with humility. Pray for fellow citizens, that they see officials as God’s representatives. Pray that selfish idealism ceases. Pray that people stop seeing government as their god. And pray that you may be a witness to Christ – His Word, His compassion, and His love in a world that is evermore without truth, without mercy, and without grace. Pray that others see Christ in what you say and do, that they may too may be saved and know what true freedom is: eternal salvation through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.