Remember: "I Am the Resurrection and the Life!" - John 11: 1-43

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

There are very few places as frightening as a cemetery. I don’t mean the faux set-up for Halloween, with Styrofoam tombstones and mounds of dirt and plastic skeletons. I mean the real cemetery, the place where our loved ones are laid to rest after they fall asleep in Christ and die. A cemetery may be creepy late at night with owls hooting and coyotes howling, but it becomes a truly frightening place when we stand in a cemetery and gather around a casket or grave of a loved one who has died.

Have you noticed how our culture tries to avoid that word, die? It shows up in lots of ways – relationships die, communities die, dreams die.  These all have elements of grief, a sense of loss, but nothing like when a loved one dies. We have a whole list of synonyms that are used, both in culture and in the funeral industry, words like expire, depart, perish, decline, decease, disappear, wither, languish, wane, sink, fade, decay, cease. It’s as if we think that by not saying “death,” we don’t have to face death or the grave. I suspect it’s to try to soften what has happened, sometimes to the point of being ridiculous. I once heard a funeral director, while he looked at the body in the casket and admired his work of preparation, boast to the widow, “Doesn’t he look lovely in repose?” “In repose?”, she snapped, and then without flinching, stated, “No…he looks dead, your makeup and hair gel will not change that.”

But, when you are standing in a cemetery at the casket or facing the name of a loved one carved into cold, hard stone, death is very, very plain and simple to understand.

I have lost track of the number of times I have stood at the graveside, either as a pastor, friend, or member of the family. If I were to guess, at least 70 times and maybe or more, officiating at most of those. I can attest that there are very few places on earth that are as frightening as standing at the foot of the grave of a loved one. I have that feeling, to a greater or lesser degree, at every funeral. It’s a humbling moment and a mixture of emotions – fear, pain, loss, grief, worry, sorrow – washes over the living while the loved one is buried in the ground or vault. It also reminds us of our own mortality.

For you who have stood there, and for all of us who, one day, will stand there unless Jesus returns first, this morning’s Gospel lesson offers three important things for you to remember as you walk through this life in a journey through the valley of the shadow of death.  

The first is that when you stand at the grave, almost overwhelmed by what has happened and is happening, your Lord knows exactly what you are experiencing. First-hand, He knew and experienced grief. He was not a stoic, immovable, lacking any emption at all. Jesus was a man, a human, and He had the feelings you and I have. He was hungry, He was thirsty, He was happy, He had compassion – so much that, at times, His guts churned - and at Lazarus’ grave, He was sad. He heard the sisters crying, and He was deeply moved and troubled. The Greek text implies that He was angry, possibly at death itself.  That makes sense – after all, death is God’s enemy that robs God’s people of the life they were created to live. But when Jesus was shown Lazarus’ grave, He cried – real, hot, human tears.

That’s important because sometimes well-intentioned Christians say things like, “You don’t need to cry. Your loved one is with Jesus.” True, the saint who dies in Christ is already with Him and experiencing the joy of the beginning of eternity. But to dismiss your tears as somehow inappropriate for a Christian isn’t fair. He wept. God-in-flesh wept. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Jesus’ tears sanctify your own tears; His sadness makes your sadness holy; His pain at the loss of His friend validates your own loss.

The second thing to know is even if your prayers were not answered as you had hoped, Jesus heard your prayers for your loved one.  When Lazarus was sick and his sisters sent for Jesus, remember, He delayed two days before He even set out on the journey to Bethany. By the time He arrived, Lazarus had already been dead four days. His seeming inaction, His seeming to not care for His friends begs the unasked question, why? Jesus offers two answers: the first, so the Son of God may be glorified; and second, so that they might believe. That’s relatively easy to understand here, today, looking through the lens of the Bible into the story of Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. But, what does that mean when it’s us standing at the grave?

It is a very humbling thing to sit with a loved one – a spouse, a child, a parent, a grandchild – who is sick and suffering and knowing you can do nothing to help besides be present. When the medication doesn’t help, or seems to make things worse, and the doctors are at the end of their physical capabilities, and no other answer seems possible, it seems that death is winning the battle against life. Jesus’ words remind us that even sickness and illness, even in terminal cases, are still under His authority. And, for the child of God, it is not for eternal death.

That’s important to remember. The Bible speaks of death three ways – temporal physical death, spiritual death, and eternal death. Physical death is when the body ceases working. Spiritual death is when faith dies. One can be physically alive but spiritually dead. But if one is spiritually dead and then dies, physically, that then becomes eternal death, a euphemism for the eternal torture of hell. For the child of God, even if illness would lead to physical death, we are preserved from eternal death by the mercy and grace of God in Christ Jesus. When Jesus speaks of the glory of God in Christ, and to continue to believe in Him, it is to trust this very thing: that death and the grave is not the end. Make no mistake – death is our enemy, no matter how the funeral industry tries to neuter that truth. God even places death under His control and He uses this terrible thing of death as a vehicle to deliver us from this life on earth – yes, even with its joys and pleasures as well as its heartaches and pains – He uses it to deliver us from this life to life in eternity with Him.

That is easy to say now, but it’s tough to cling to when dying is suddenly a very real possibility, like when it is your loved one who receives a difficult diagnosis, or who isn’t responding to the treatments, or who is taking a final breath, or who lies in the casket.

As a student pastor, I was making a funeral home visit with an older, experienced pastor. The widower, Steve, was there to see his wife for the first time in the casket. I was quiet, observing and listening to what this veteran pastor would say. What do you say in a time like that? My mind said to tell the man “There, there, it’s going to be OK,” but I knew that was as hollow as a toilet paper tube, an empty platitude more for me than him. Something is better than nothing, they say, but sometimes they are wrong.  The senior pastor stood next to the man for a minute and then offered one of the most powerful words of hope (!) and comfort. “Just remember, Steve, Jesus said, ‘I am the resurrection and the life.’”

Instead of platitudes, the pastor turned the grieving Christian back to the promises of Jesus. That’s the third thing I want you to remember: the promise of Jesus. When Martha met Jesus with the news that Lazarus had died and challenged Him, in faith, that had He been there, Lazarus wouldn’t have died, Jesus promised that her brother would rise again. Again, in faith, Martha agreed, confessing that she believed there would be a resurrection on the last day. Then, Jesus spoke those words of promise that we know well: “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live. And everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.” Jesus is the savior from sin and also the antidote to death and the destroyer of the grave. Even though His own death and resurrection are still on the horizon, He is already declaring His victory over death, our enemy. His declaration is a prelude to His own resurrection victory.

Earlier, I said it is OK to cry. It’s also OK to grieve. We grieve our loss and, in our tears, Jesus stands with us. But, we do not grieve as those who have no hope (!). In Christ, there is the hope and promise of a resurrection reunion – first of all, with our Lord and Savior, who loved us enough to die for us and rise for us and promise us space in His father’s mansion; and second, with those whom we love who also died in the faith in Christ Jesus. Our hope (!) is in Christ Jesus, and in Him, we have the confident promise that nothing, neither death nor live, angels nor demons, powers, nor anything else, can separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

So, when you – like Steve, or Mary, or Martha – are standing at the foot of the grave of your loved one, let Jesus’ words ring in your ears. Remember: Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live. And everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.” Immediately, He turned to Martha and asked, “Do you believe this?” The echo of that question echoes through the centuries and it reverberates across cemeteries, and into hospital rooms, and into funeral homes, and into the homes where our loved ones once lived. “Do you believe this, that I am the resurrection and the life?” By God’s grace, filled with the Holy Spirit, knowing that the One who asked is the One who has conquered death with His own glorious resurrection, you are able to answer. It may be a squeak, or a whisper, or a mumble, or a full-throated declaration, but you are able to answer along with Martha, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.”

Christians call the place where we bury our dead, “cemeteries.” We don’t call them “resting places,” or “memorial gardens,” or even “burial grounds.” We call them cemeteries. It’s the English word that is derived from the Greek word, “koimeterion” which means “sleeping place.” In Christ, cemeteries are nothing more than sleeping places for our beloved who have died in the Lord. We confessed it a few minutes ago, “I believe in…the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” That name, cemetery, is physical statement of our Christian confession that Jesus isn’t yet done with the body of our loved one who is buried there. It is at rest even as the soul lives with Christ. I said cemeteries are frightening places. They are because they humble us, and remind us of our loss, and our own unknown future. But, in the cemetery, in the sleeping place, for the faithful Christians who mourn their faithful departed, the cemetery itself provides hope in the midst of sadness, grief and loss. There is more to come, something greater to come!  Remember, He is the resurrection and the life, and He will raise your beloved’s body, made whole and holy, from a temporary sleep to eternal joy when He returns.

Do you believe this?

Amen.

 

Hope With Christ, Hope In Christ, Hope Through Christ. Hope is Christ! Romans 5: 1-8

Grace to you and peace…

Peace. Doesn't that sound good this morning? Thinking back over the last few years – the pandemic officially began three years ago, this week – and everything that has stirred up the world. The virus, the war in Ukraine, the economy, what the bug did to families with the death and health issues, let alone other non-covid health problems. Politics has become verbally and physically violent, a white-collar contact sport. Society is on edge from wokeness and brokenness. Black lives matter, blue lives matter, unborn lives matter. Can I afford college? Can I afford to not go to college? Fifty years ago, Dr. Thomas Harris wrote a book, “I’m OK, You’re OK.” I wonder what he would title it today?  Google searches for “how to deal with anxiety” or “how to deal with worry” are at an all time. Anxiety fuels fear and fear fuels anxiety. I’m OK, you’re OK, really? Is anyone OK? Peace…something so simple, now so taken for granted.

I want you to know this morning, every morning, noon and night, you have peace inspite – despite! – what the world, your mind, and even Satan Himself tries to tell you. But to understand this, I need you to rethink peace. Peace, by definition, is not absence of war. It isn’t absence of conflict or lack of fear. Peace means unity, harmony, wholeness through restoration. In Christ, you do have peace, beyond worldly understanding. In Christ, God has been pacified and you have been restored in Christ's death and resurrection. You are justified – declared holy – by God’s merciful gift of Jesus and this is delivered to you by the Holy Spirit from faith.

Faith. That is always an important word, but it will be particularly important in these difficult days. The book of Hebrews defines faith as “the substance of things hoped for and the evidence of things not seen,” Heb 11:1. Your faith is from God. You do not trust your faith itself; that ebbs and flows. Your faith rests in Christ Jesus, your Lord and Savior.

Through Christ, you have access by faith into the grace of God. I want you to have a picture here of a room, a large room, that is warm and inviting. "Access" means entrance. By faith we have entrance into this grace in which we stand. By faith I walk into that room and the name of the room is grace. The ceiling, walls, floor—all grace. You live inside God’s grace, his love, his forgiveness, completely surrounded by it. That means you’re always forgiven. You must not think of forgiveness as something that takes place in your life every once in awhile, that you pile up sins for a time and then you get forgiven. You’re forgiven all the time.

People say, "I hope I don’t die while I’m sinning." People like that don’t know what sin is. Of course you’re going to die while you’re sinning. You sin because you’re a sinner; you aren’t a sinner because you sin. All of us are far short of what we ought to be all the time (Romans 3, 23). See, the law tells us how we are to be and not to be, and what we ought to do and not to do. Not being what we ought to be is also a sin. The Law demands perfection (Lev. 19,2). If you’re not perfect you’ve living in sin. But even if you’re sinning all the time, you’re forgiven all the time. You’re living inside the forgiveness of sin. If you die when you’re not thinking about Jesus, you still die as a believer.

People say, "I hope that I have a chance to repent before I die." That’s not right. The whole life of a believer ought to be one of repentance. See, believing doesn’t mean that you feel good all the time, and repenting doesn’t mean that you feel bad all the time. Repenting just means knowing that you’re a sinner who deserves to go to hell. Being scared to die without Jesus, that’s contrition. And faith is knowing that Jesus forgives you all the time, every minute of the day you are forgiven. When you die without having a chance to repent consciously, you still die as a person who knows that he’s a sinner and that Jesus died for him. How many times during the day do you think of the fact that 2 + 2 = 4? Did you know that last night when you were sound asleep? You sure did. Did you know that this morning? Certainly. And so I know that all the time that Jesus is my Savior, whatever happens to me.

Living in Christ’s forgiveness, "we rejoice in hope of the glory of God" (Rom. 5,2). Here "the glory of God" is the praise that God gives us. Someday when we stand before God, what’s He going to say? "Well done, thou good and faithful servant" (Matt. 5,21). You will say, "But when did I ever do anything good?? He will say, "That’s alright, Jesus did it all for you. Well done, you kept all my commandments." So we look forward to Judgment Day when God will say, "You’re not guilty." We "rejoice in hope" that that’s the way it’s going to be. We know it’s true now, by faith. Then we’ll hear it with our own ears from the mouth of God Himself. Now we hear it from human preachers, but then Jesus Himself will say it. "Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world" (Matt. 25, 34).

This is the source of the hope we have in God: the grace given you by Jesus. I’ve said it before, it begs to be said again. When I use the word hope, I don’t mean the false one-in-a-billion hope of winning the lottery, or I hope the IRS doesn’t audit me, or something like that. Christian hope is one giant exclamation point. Some of you remember Victor Borge – he would do a schtick where he would read a section of a book and actually vocalize the punctuation. YouTube him and watch some of his routine – you have time, now. If Victor Borge were here, he would read every word “hope” in the Bible with the sound of an exclamation point. Christian hope is certain, not maybe; it is confident, not wishy-washy; it is definite, not a mere possibility. Hope is in Christ. Christ does not change, He does not schwaffle. Therefore you hope does not change, either.

Because of that, you are able to rejoice today, even in the midst of the chaos that is swirling around us. You don’t rejoice because of it, but in it. Our translation says “we rejoice in our sufferings.” A better, and little-less wooden translation is “we rejoice in the face of external pressure.” I think that today’s climate counts as external pressure, don’t you, and it opens this up a little more for us. Suffering has a deep and dark connotation. I don’t know any of us are really suffering. But all of us are facing some level of external pressure. Concerns about the economy, your job, your blood pressure, your weight, your loved ones, what to do with the kids during spring break, trying afford groceries – I could go on. These are present-tense struggles and pressures. Yet, in the midst of them, we as children of God have hope. Hope that enables us to speak and act in love in the midst of this; hope that looks forward in faith; hope that God desires to move us ahead in His grace.

Pressure is accompanied by patient endurance. Ever notice how when things get tough, someone – well intended, of course – will tell you to “hang on”? How do you hang on when the last thread is fraying fast? What happens when you’re losing your grip? Know this: This isn’t you “hanging on.” This is God standing us up in His grace. It’s His gift and He grants it in just the right amount that you need. In fact, it might be helpful to think of endurance less in terms of quantity than quality. That room of grace? He holds us in His perfect grace and keeps us standing firm. Where God sustains faith, He also uses pressure to produce endurance of faith.

Patient endurance is accomplished by tested character. Here is a good picture of how this works. Do you know how gold and silver is made pure? By melting it down. It’s put into high heat and melted into a pool of metal. But, what is remarkable is that because these metals are so dense, the garbage – the dirt and undesired other metals – float to the surface where it is skimmed off. That’s called the dross; it’s garbage. This happens many times, as heat continues to be applied and the gunk skimmed away. When the gold and silver is finally taken off the heat, it is left pure – just gold, just silver, nothing else. In the midst of patient endurance in the crucible, God is defining and refining our character. He is stripping away from us in these days anything that we have made as a god, something other than Him that we fear love and trust. What we are left with is Jesus. Life is hard right now, and our Lord strips away layer after layer away that would want to compete with faith in Him. Life narrows down and crisis comes. Suddenly, there is only one thing that matters. And, there in the narrow place, stands Jesus.

And in Jesus is our hope. You have hope because while we were yet sinners – talk about a hopeless situation!!! – Christ died for you. If God was willing to surrender His holy and only-begotten Son for the likes of you and me, to rescue us from the eternal separation that our sins deserve but that God’s love would not allow; if God kept His promises, all of them, to send a Savior, a Redeemer, a Messiah, a Christ, to be the once-for-all-sacrifice; if Christ died and rose from the dead, completing those promises; then there is truly hope. It is the faith-filled, endurance-driven, character-building hope in the promises of God which are always yes and amen in Christ Jesus.

This is a process that Paul describes. It’s a process of maturing, growing in faith. But the faith in the love of God poured into our hearts – that faith does not change. This is God’s intention: to accomplish patient endurance, which leads to approved character, which returns to hope that trusts in the mercy of God in Christ from faith.

As you leave here today, you get to live in that faith-filled hope. Live – that’s the key word. We’re in a world of hand-wringers and chin rubbers. I know – I am one of them. So live and speak in hope. Luther was once asked what he would do if he knew the end of the world was tomorrow. He simply answered, "Plant a tree." In other words, live today in the sure and certain hope of tomorrow as a child of God. Instead of hand-wringing, fold them in faithful prayer. Instead of frowning in worry, laugh at your dog’s goofiness. Instead of throwing up your hands in surrender, cling to the promises of God. Smile. Give thanks for God's goodness.

 And others around you will see it. They will ask you about it – how can you rejoice in times like this? How can you be so hopeful? Be prepared to give an answer. Tell them about the hope (!) that is yours in Christ. Amen.  

 

Baptized, Born Again, Believing - John 3: 1-17

He just doesn't get it. But that doesn't stop Nicodemus from baring his soul before Jesus. “How can this be?”

Six years ago, my uncle, Richard Dinda, passed away. Uncle Rich was one of the smartest men I have ever known. He was an ordained pastor in the LCMS, Seminary class of 1950, he had five earned master’s degrees, an honorary doctorate from Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, was fluent in Latin and Greek, had a working ability in Spanish, and truly a mind that understood the science of baseball. If he were alive today, I’m not sure how he would feel about the pitch clock, but he would have totally agreed that the shift needed to go away. After he retired as a college professor, he spent 6-hours a day translating old theological works from Latin into English so people like me could read and understand these books. He died just short of his 90^th birthday, a humble man of God and a servant of the church. Yet, even though he was a scholar of the Scriptures, he would open his Bible every day and, Aunt Laura said, there was hardly a day that went by that he didn’t read something and utter “Hmmph…” because there was something that caught his eye anew. I tell you this, because as true as that is for a man who spent seven decades studying the Scriptures from a scholar’s perspective, I think for all of us there are times when we have to come humbly before the Lord and admit we don't have it all figured out. We bare our souls like a child, humbly asking how and why and when, Lord?

Nicodemus was a pharisee. Much like a professor of theology in that day. Respected for his age and wisdom. A pillar of the community. Seen as a wise man – certainly no young upstart. But here he was coming at night to find out what made this Jesus tick. He had questions, but the answers, too, would confound him.

Jesus, this country preacher from Galillee, probably 20 or 30 years his junior... with no authority of culture and institution behind him, and no official connection with the temple. But Jesus was doing things that no one could explain. His miracles, signs and wonders... these were the calling cards that got Nicodemus' attention. “We know that you are from God, for no one can do such things without God” Well he knew that much, but there was much more he didn't know.

Today some might call Nicodemus a “seeker”. But he wasn't part of Christ’s kingdom, at least not yet. Jesus took the opportunity to instruct the wise teacher, and all of us, in some of the basic truths of the faith. And while we are part of that kingdom, we too have much to learn from this night-time discourse.

Perhaps the most basic truth here is the one that we know the best. The “Gospel-in-a-nutshell” passage, John 3:16. Yes, “God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” This is why Jesus has come – for the love of God – for a world that is perishing – for Nicodemus, and for us. This truth, so simple, yet so profound, has made even the wisest men wonder. But there is so much more to the kingdom.

Let's back up. Nicodemus approaches Jesus and begins with flattery, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him." Skillful politics here, buttering Jesus up? Or is this an honest admission that he really is impressed with Jesus' works?

Either way, Jesus shrugs off this flattery and gets to the point. He is not really interested in being praised. He is, always, the servant. Nicodemus needs to see the kingdom, and Jesus nudges him toward it. You need to be born again, Nicodemus.

What is Jesus talking about here, “born again”? That's what Nicodemus wants to know. That's what we need to know. For we certainly want to see the kingdom. We want to be a part of God's people.

He tells us more: “Unless a man is born of water and the Spirit”. And this can only mean one thing – Holy Baptism.  Not conversion experiences or Pauline moments of blindness turned to sight. Just simple water and a few Christ-given words. Holy Baptism, this precious gift, forgives sins, works faith, and yes, brings you into the kingdom. Oh, and by it, we are born again. Not of the flesh, but of the Spirit.

And yet, I think many of us Lutherans think of and treat Baptism wrongly. Like most of God's gifts which we take for granted, Baptism is often far from our mind. Why is it, that we turn the gift into a requirement, a hoop to jump through, in order to have all our Christian ducks in a row. Why do we think of baptism as something long ago that happened to me, a nice historical event but nothing relevant to my life today? Why is it, then, that only on their death-beds, do many finally look toward the comfort of baptism?

Speaking of death-beds, just a few weeks ago, February 18^th, was the day Martin Luther fell asleep in Christ. So in honor of the great reformer, maybe we should hear what he says about baptism:

…What a great, excellent thing Baptism is, which delivers us from the jaws of the devil and makes us God's own, suppresses and takes away sin, and then daily strengthens the new man, and is and remains ever efficacious until we pass from this estate of misery to eternal glory.

For this reason let every one esteem his Baptism as a daily dress in which he is to walk constantly, that he may ever be found in the faith and its fruits, that he suppress the old man and grow up in the new.

For if we would be Christians, we must practice the work whereby we are Christians. But if any one fall away from it, let him again come into it. For just as Christ, the Mercy-seat does not recede from us or forbid us to come to Him again, even though we sin, so all His treasure and gifts also remain. If, therefore we have once in Baptism obtained forgiveness of sin, it will remain every day, as long as we live, that is, as long as we carry the old man about our neck. (from Luther's Large Catechism)

Uncle Rich had a saying that I heard him say countless times. “It’s all about the gifts,” meaning the gifts of God. In this crazy, mixed-up and sin-drenched world, we need the daily gifts of baptism just as much as Nicodemus did. We need the rebirth from sin just as much as that old pharisee with all his questions and conflicts. We need not only the answers from the great teacher Jesus, but we need also the gifts of his kingdom, that he came to bring.

It’s all about the gifts. Sin would have us outside of the kingdom, but God's grace in Christ brings us in. The devil, that wiley serpent, would confuse and confound us with his lies, but Jesus comes full of grace and truth. For Jesus was lifted up, like the serpent in the desert, that we might look to his cross, and to him, and believe.

Amen.

 

"Where are you?" - Genesis 3: 1-21

When I was 5 or 6, I had a baby tooth that was not getting loose while, at the same time, a new adult tooth was fighting against it for ownership of that place in my mouth. Mom took me to our dentist. I remember the office – the dark paneling and the teal curtains. I remember sitting in the chair and staring at the door that was approximately six football fields away. I don’t remember what he said, but I remember him taking an instrument that strongly resembled Dad’s Channellock pliers and turn toward me. Knowing what Dad did with that tool, and envisioning what was to come, I clamped my mouth shut with the force of an alligator. He tried to pry my mouth open. Growing increasingly frustrated that he was being stymied by a kid, he came in for one, last try.

I am 49 years old and over the course of 50 years, I have punched exactly one person – this dentist. I twisted as best I could in his dentist chair and popped him on the cheek, just like I had seen Bo and Luke do on TV at the Boar’s Nest. I doubt it hurt much, but it got the right results: we left the office with all of my teeth. But as we started home, I began to worry because Mom was silent. Then she spoke those terrifying 6 words that every kid dreads: “Wait ‘til your father gets home.” Worry became panic, and when we got home, I ran up the stairs to hide. At the top of the stairs, around the opening of the stairway, was a railing, and between the railing and the wall were some old bench cushions. I had kind of stacked them to make a tunnel, or as I called it, my secret fort. That’s where I was hiding, in my secret fort, when I heard Dad get home.

Dad was taller than me but not as heavy, yet his size 13 4-E shoes made quite the sound climbing the stairs. I remember he stood there, on the landing, for approximately six weeks before I heard him turn and take a couple of slow steps towards my fort. I could see his black shoes. And he just stood there. It was just a tooth and he had pliers…but I punched a man, an adult, a doctor, and I knew I was in for it. If I was scared in the dentist’s office, this was off the charts. I began to question all 5 or 6 years of my life choices.  I expected the fury of the Greeks against the city of Troy, the Mexican army against the Alamo, Rocket Racoon fighting Thanos, the very wrath of God all coming down on me. To use the lingo of kids today, I was fixin to get lit up. I think I held my breath. Then, Dad called my name, hunkered down at the opening of my fort and lifted the cushion so he could see me. He took a breath and then firmly but gently said, “Come out. Let’s go downstairs. Tell me what happened. We need to talk.”

That’s the image I want you to have when you consider Genesis 3. Adam and Eve had sinned against God and His command to not eat from the tree. They had an entire Garden to chose from, filled with beautiful, delicious, perfect food. Only one exception was given. Everyone thinks it was an apple tree but, in fact, the Bible doesn’t say. It could have been a fig, or a date, or a pomegranate or something else. Regardless, God gave a very clear, simple instruction: “Don’t eat of that tree, for in the day you eat of it you will die.” You eat, you die. Very simple.

We know from elsewhere in the Bible that the devil was created an angel. Angel means messenger, remember, a truth-deliverer of Him who is the Way, the Truth and the Life.  But after he fell from grace, trying to overthrow God, this truth-telling messenger became a lie-spewing devil. In fact, the name “satan” means exactly that – deceiver, slanderer, liar. He takes something that is true and good and beautiful and he twists it into something else that sort-of sounds true, and kind-of looks good, and seems to be beautiful...except it is deadly and deceitfully false.

You notice how the temptation began – just a simple question. “Did God really say?” Satan is not God; He does not have semi-hypnotic power to make you do anything. He just dangles his alternate reality within eyesight, within earshot, within the realm of our thoughts. People think he’s terrifying and ugly. I don’t think so; at least, not when he’s trying to tempt. He inhabits the serpent – remember, pre-fall, the serpent was beautiful, too, as perfect a piece of God’s creation as Adam and Eve at this point. And, being in perfect harmony within that scope of God’s creation, it would not have scared Eve that the serpent began to speak. There wasn’t anything frightening. It was just a question. “Did God really say?”

Being tempted is not a sin. We know this because, as you heard in the Gospel lesson, Jesus was tempted. For the record, those were real temptations according to His human nature. Yet, the Scriptures also say although He was tempted, He remained without sin. Therefore, it is not being tempted that makes us sinners. The devil wants you to think that, liar that he is, that since you’ve been tempted, you’re already guilty so you may as well go ahead and go all-in. But don’t fall for the idea that there’s a line in the sand, that you can dance with temptation up to that line and be just fine. Just don’t cross that line. That’s a temptation in and of itself. I guess in a perfect world, we could always clearly see where temptation stops and sin starts, but we aren’t in a perfect world, and we are imperfect people, and in the heat of the moment we don’t think clearly and faithfully enough to see that mark. Besides, the problem with lines in the sand is that the sand shifts – just when you think you’re safe, the sand shifts underneath and you find yourself across the line. 

Eve and Adam had not yet succumbed to the temptation. But the question gains momentum. The sand starts to slip. Eve tries to add a little bit to God’s instruction, that they can’t even touch it. A little more sand slips from underneath. Satan lies again, “You will not surely die, for God knows that when you eat of it , your eyes will be opened and you will be like God knowing good and evil.”

I wonder what that bite sounded like. Did it crunch like only a piece of perfectly ripe pomegranite can crunch, or did it smoosh like a peach warmed and ripened in the summer sunshine? Did it sound like a thunderclap, echoing through the Garden? Did the birds fly away in terror? Was there a collective roar from all of the beasts? Was the taste sweet? Did it turn bitter in their mouths as they realized what they had done? The text says their eyes were opened. Don’t merely think of this like rising eyelids. Think of this as in a physical response to the full realization of what they had done. Part of what the devil said was true: they suddenly knew exactly what evil was and it was terrifying. But, still, he lied. They were nothing like God…not anymore. They had to do something. They bundled some fig leaves together and they ran for their lives, praying for the first time ever that God would not find them, lest they find out exactly what “die” meant. They had no idea, not yet, but it could not be a good thing. And they ran and hid.

Then, God enters the Garden. It’s the end of the day as the cool breeze begins to blow, rustling through the leaves. Adam isn’t busy playing with animals; Eve isn’t rushing out to meet God. God calls out, three words in English, one word in Hebrew, אַיֶּֽכָּה׃ “Ay’-ye-cah.” Don’t think Jack Nicholson driving an axe through a door, demanding to know; don’t think a preschool teacher calling out to kids playing hide and seek in a playful sing-song voice. I want you to think of my Dad, standing at the foot of my hiding place and calling me by name, knowing full where I was, but wanting me to come to him, confess what I had done, and seek a father’s restoration and love. “Ay’-ye-cah…Where are you?”

Of course, God knows – He knows where Adam and Eve were and He knows where you and I are when we are trapped. This is the Father’s word for sinners, seeking, searching, calling out to the straying, the hiding, because of the unholiness of our sin. God is inviting the sinner to turn and confess, to stop hiding, and as His child instead call out from faith and trust in the Father’s love, “Here I am in all of my horrific nakedness.” When we offer our lame excuses, pretending it wasn’t our fault – everyone elses, including the devil, but mine! – God strips them away too, leaving us with nothing between us and His love. God desires restoration and wholeness. So, God works redemption.

The devil lied that day, but there was a kernel of truth in what he said. He said to Adam and Eve, “You will not surely die.” They did not die that day, but there would be death and God’s once-perfect pinnacles of creation saw it with their own eyes. God took animals, the same animals Adam had named, the animals with which he lived in harmony, the animals he loved and cared for, God took these animals and killed them in front of Adam and Eve, skinning them to make clothes to protect them from the elements and from creation which would also now suffer as a result of the fall. They suddenly knew what death looked like. When those animal skins rubbed against their skin, Adam and Eve would remember and recall that it was their sins that caused their death. “The wages of sin is death.”

The animals were a foreshadowing of another sacrifice that would be for the world’s redemption. Jesus lived in perfect active and passive obedience to the will and law of God, so He could be the perfect Lamb. He fully resisted the temptations that we surrender to from satan, from the world, and even from our own sinful flesh. He the Father’s providing hand. He trusted the Father’s protection without having to do a foolish test. He trusted that all things were given to the Father and needed no other god to worship besides His heavenly Father. He ate no forbidden fruit, but He would drink the bitter cup of suffering. His clothes were stripped from Him and He was left naked, clothed only by the sins of the world. And, on the cross, Jesus knew the full wrath of God against the evil of satan and his lies against God’s people. When He called out to His Father, “Ay’-ye-cah – where are you?” The Father did not answer. He was left alone, suffering hell on earth for the sins of the world. The word of God, spoken in the Garden in the beginning, “And, on that day, you will surely die,” that Word came to its fulfillment with Jesus on the cross: “It is finished.”

Satan is a defeated enemy – make no mistake about it. But, he is not surrendering quietly or easily. HE is still very active and particularly attentive to the faithful child of God. He loves to ask questions as you look at the pantry, the bank account, or the struggling family relationship: “Will God really give you the daily bread you need?” When the news isn’t good from the doctor, or when weather threatens, or when the news preaches impending doom, “Will God protect you from harm and danger?” When it seems that God is impotent, or not listening, or not caring, he whispers, “You know, there are lots of other things that can help at times like this…” 

But, make no mistake: Satan’s greatest temptation is in this question: “Are you really a child of God?” Are you sure that Jesus’ death is enough; have you made yourself worthy of the love of God in Christ, are you presentable enough for Jesus? What about that secret sin you carry  - do you think He forgives that? If you really were a son of God, a daughter of God, a child of the Lord, you wouldn’t continue doing such things. In the 6^th Petition of the Lord’s Prayer, we pray “Lead us not into temptation.” I used to think this was praying God would protect us from being tempted from sinning. While that’s true, if that’s all we think when we pray this, we’re missing the greater meaning behind it. Immediately before this, in the Fifth Petition, we prayed “Forgive us our trespasses.” The longer I serve as a pastor, and the more I care for hurting souls, the more I believe that these two petitions go together like this: “Don’t let us be tempted that our sins aren’t forgiven.” 

Instead, flee to your Baptism. Remember, there you are made a child of God through Christ Jesus. You are united with Christ into His death and His resurrection. His death is your death. He strips your sins from you, washing them away. When God sees you through the cross of Jesus, He sees you as His beloved whom His Only-begotten Son died to save. You are redeemed – you are bought with a price. You are sinless and blameless in His eyes. You are wrapped, not in an animal skin, but in the righteousness of the Lamb.

So, when you are tempted, resist as you are able, by the power and strength of the Holy Spirit. But you will fall. This side of heaven, that is a guarantee. And, when you sin again hear the voice of the Father calling you from your hiding place: “Ay’-ye-cah. Wo bist du? Dónde estás?  - Where are you?” Turn to Him in repentance and faith, trusting the forgiveness of Jesus for you. And then return here, to His house and say, “Here I am” and . Hear His Word of forgiveness for you. Take and eat; take and drink. Then, depart in peace.

Listen to Him: Matthew 17: 1-9

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

When you go home today, read Matthew 16, the chapter right before this morning’s Gospel lesson. There’s a wonderful discussion about who the crowds are saying Jesus is. Some say He is John the Baptist, some say Elijah, or Jeremiah, or another Old Testament prophet. Then, Jesus turns the question slightly and asks what the disciples are saying. In the great and bold statement of faith, Peter confesses Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God (16:16) and Jesus praises this confession as being heaven-sent.

Then Matthew says, “From that time, Jesus began to show His disciples that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things…and be killed.” Jesus had spoken of it before, of course, but now, when Jesus speaks clearly and plainly that He must go to Jerusalem and suffer and die at the hands of the Jewish leaders, Peter stands, and with the same mouth that confessed Jesus as the Son of God, rebukes Jesus. “This shall never happen to you, Lord!” he said. Peter doesn’t want Jesus to die. I can understand and sympathize with that emotion, but he has forgotten that this is what Jesus has come to do: be the once for all sacrifice for the world’s sins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Look to Jesus. It’s not as if He’s in a glass case labeled “Break Glass In Case of Emergency.” Listen to Jesus. He is Christ is the Son of the Living God who has come into the world to rescue and redeem sinners like you, and like me, and Peter. Look to Jesus who stood on the Mount of Transfiguration and prepared to go to the cross for you. Listen to Jesus: "Rise and have no fear." 

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

 

Be Perfect? Yes - in Christ! - Matthew 5: 21-37 (38-48)

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

The San Antonio Zoo is making headlines. For a small donation, and a few clicks of your keyboard, you can purchase a cockroach and name it after someone – presumably whom you dislike – and they will feed it to a meerkat. It’s a new twist on the old adage of revenge is best served cold, I guess, a double insult of taking a bug most people don’t like, name it after someone we don’t like, all while feeding it to another animal to turn into fertilizer. 

We chuckle at this story. The idea of naming a bug to be chomped is ridiculous, even if it’s someone we despise...but then we think about him…or her…and, why not? It sounds like so much fun, especially for just a few bucks! Then we hear the words of Jesus. “I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgement; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; whoever says, ‘You fool,’ will be liable to the hell of fire.” The world says, “It’s OK to be angry,” but Jesus exposes just how sinful our angry desires are. It’s not so funny anymore.

There’s a new, magical movie out. While the lead male and female characters dance seductively in the rain, he loses his shirt and her dress clings to her for dear life. Our sinful nature wants to go to see this movie…and it ain’t because of the over-priced snacks. The sensual scenes make hearts beat faster as viewers ogle and stare at the curves of the beautiful bodies on the screen. Then, we hear the words of Jesus, “I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery in his heart.” And, just to be clear, this applies equally for women looking at men with lustful intent. The world says ogle and stare, it’s natural. Jesus says there is nothing natural about lust so pluck out those ogling eyes and chop off the groping hands.  The movie isn’t as entertaining anymore.

A coworker describes how great things have been since getting a divorce. There is so much freedom and opportunity, and if only it had been done years ago, life would have been so much better. Our sinful nature ponders this while laying awake listening to your spouse snore, the spark long gone from your own marriage, and you wonder. The world says spouses should be traded up every few years for a newer model. Jesus describe that one who divorces, except in the case of sexual immorality, is doubly guilty of adultery of both self and spouse as well.   

Someone demands, “Did you know anything about what was going on?” Caught off guard and defensive, almost automatically, the sinful tongue snaps, “I had no idea…I swear!” hoping that you are believed because you can’t prove otherwise. Jesus says, “Let what you say be simply “Yes” or “No”; anything more than this comes from evil.” The Law cuts deep as we realize how sinful our words are.

Hmm…How do we fix this? We need a plan. We need to work harder at this stuff. Yes…maybe we can shield our eyes from these temptations. We’ll stop going to movies…or watching most television…and reading those books. Oh, and looking at the ads in the mail and on-line. And those billboards on the side of the road. Hmm…this might be harder than we thought. I guess that’s why Jesus says what he says about plucking out eyes, or even deafening ears, or cutting out tongues – it’s all around us. And, then there’s the heart. All these temptations, Jesus says elsewhere, they stem from the heart of the Old Adam and the Old Eve that still beats within us.

And, if that’s not enough, the rest of this chapter goes on to say, “If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other. And if anyone would sue you and take your tunic, let him have your cloak as well. And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.” Then, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” And after all of this, so there is no doubt, Jesus caps it off with the perfect icing on the perfect, proverbial cake, “Therefore, you must be perfect as your father in heaven is perfect.”  Perfect? Everything leading up to that was hard enough, but perfect? The Old Adam and the Old Eve cringes deeply at these words. There is no room for wiggling or squirming, here. Not pretty close, not almost there, not “but I really tried,” not even Ivory soap 99.44%, but perfect. It cuts to the heart for Jesus’ disciples, both then and today. It’s Paul’s “the good I want to do, I don’t do, but the evil I don’t want to do, I do,” put into real life.  One writer describes these twenty verses as the deepest, and darkest, verses of the entire New Testament because they leave us with nothing, spiritually naked before God. Perfect, indeed.

Be perfect? With the plumb line of God’s holiness held up against our crooked sinfulness, we stand no chance. No self-justifying, self-righteousing, self-correcting program could ever sanctify us in the eyes of the Lord. But, even if we could, what are we going to say – Jesus, you fulfilled the Law, now it’s my turn and I’m going to do the same? Do you really think you can do that?  Of course not.

So, what then is His purpose?  Jesus means the words seriously – the part about amputation is not prescriptive but descriptive of the seriousness. It’s not to shock us into being good. If that were possible, His death would have been a waste of time. Surely, He knows perfection is impossible for us. Adam and Eve couldn’t do it then and we are as incapable as they. What is His purpose? Six times, He takes the Commandment and widens and deepens the meaning – “But I say to you”. What is His purpose?  So there is nothing to hide behind, no self-justification that we can offer, no self-righteousness that we can fool ourselves with to think we can dare to stand before God on our own merit, no arrogance that we can dare to compare our righteousness to that of our brothers and sisters and pretend, “well, at least I’m not as bad as him or her.”  

That’s how the world works. He is speaking to disciples. He is speaking to us. Discipleship is not worldly. Remember, we are salt and light, we are to be different, radically different from what we see around us. But discipleship never begins with us. Discipleship begins with Jesus. Discipleship ends with Jesus. Discipleship places us at the foot of the cross, the very cross where Jesus bore our sins, stripping them from our unrighteous hands and hearts and eyes and mouths, and carrying them to His death and their death in Him.

So, let’s go back to the beginning for a moment. Has the Spirit of God worked through the Law to convict you?

Was it lust or adultry? Jesus knows them both. More than that, He died for every time we have lusted after someone other than the love of God and a holy relationship with Him, replacing other people and other things as our god in which we place our fear, love and trust. Repentance clings to Jesus.

Divorce? Jesus knows divorce. He’s seen every trick that the devil uses to try to separate His bride, the Church, from Him, the Church’s bridegroom. He’s seen what satan does to the body of Christ, too, and husbands and wives. More than that, Jesus died for those for whom marriage came to a terrible halt because of satan’s work. Repentance grasps Jesus’ great love for sinners.

Oaths? Jesus knows this, too. For every time we have have thrown God’s name around like verbal confetti, trying to bedazzle our words by frivolously asking God to be our witness, Jesus calls out to the Father, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” His yes was yes, His no was no for you. Repentance trusts Jesus’ sacrifice.

Anger? Jesus knows anger. His death satiated the Father’s anger over our sins, our rebellion against Him, our pretending to be as God knowing better than Him what we need, what we want, and what makes us happy. Jesus died, paying the very last penny of the wages of sin for you. Repentance holds fast to Jesus substitution for you.

And, in Christ’s death for your sins, God declares you holy. Those words of Jesus, "be perfect?" It's no longer an impossibility. It's a present-tense reality in the eyes of God.  Your sins have been stripped from you, remember, by Jesus. He paid them in full. Your sins are no longer yours. But Christ’s holiness is yours. You are declared righteous, that is, right with God. You are forgiven of your sins and, by God’s grace, so also are the sins of your brothers and sisters in Christ. Let me say that again: remember that declaration, “You must be perfect”? That’s not yours to attain, to somehow reach perfection. But it is God’s to give and, in Christ, you are declared as such. Baptized into Christ’s death and resurrection, God sees you as perfect, so perfect in fact, that He calls you Christian – little Christ – washed white in the blood of the Lamb.

Standing as disciples under the cross of Jesus, we repent of our angry hearts, and lustful eyes, and adulterous thoughts, and tongues that misuse God’s name, we repent of the ways of the world, we repent of seeking revenge with our enemies. Instead, we surrender.

That’s what Christian sanctification is: it’s surrendering our will and our plans and our goals to the will of the Father through Christ Jesus by the power of the Holy Spirit. The sanctified life is the Baptized life and through your Baptism, the Holy Spirit is quite busy at work, stripping those temptations from you to get even, or to look, or to wonder, or to touch. But, He does not work in a vacuum. He works where He promises to work: in the Word, in the Lord’s Supper, and in returning to your Baptism in confession and absolution. Find yourself being angry? Open the Scriptures. Confess it. Be absolved. And pray to resist as you are enabled by the Spirit of God. Find yourself tempted by the allure of someone who is not your spouse? Open the Scriptures. Confess it. Be absolved. And pray to resist as you are enabled by the Spirit of God, including flee the temptation – including leave the movie theater, turn off the internet, stop talking to him or her outside appropriate boundaries.

It's not to take Jesus’ job away. It’s living freely as Baptized children of God because Jesus died for you. It’s being salt and light in a world that desperately needs the flavor and the light of the Good News.

You do it because you are freely and fully forgiven in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Salting and Lighting the Earth - Matthew 5: 13-20

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

Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world.”

I made mashed potatoes for dinner the other evening. I salted the water when they were boiling. When they were tender, I dumped the water off, let them steam a bit to dry, then added butter and milk and smashed them. When I tasted them, I realized what I had forgotten: to salt the smashed potatoes. It didn’t take a whole lot - for a couple pounds of potatoes I probably used less than a teaspoon of salt. Had I dumped in a whole handful, the potatoes would have been ruined, but the right amount was the difference between “meh” and “delicious.”

When I was a boy, the darkness bothered me. Well, to be honest, it scared me. I had a little night light that sat on the dresser, a Raggedy Ann and Andy lamp. I looked on Ebay the other day; both my wallet and I wish I still had that, albeit for different reasons. In a dark room on a dark night, the soft glow of that small bulb provided comfort and assurance that all was right. Had Mom left the room light on, it would have been too much; the small glow was all I needed. I could go to sleep in peace, the light aiding mom and dad’s comforting words “See you in the morning” into being believable.

Jesus isn’t giving cooking instructions. He’s not giving home decoration tips. He’s speaking about what it is to be His disciples, His followers, to the world. A little bit of light makes a big difference in the darkness. A little bit of salt makes a big difference in food. When disciples practice faithfully living in service to others in the name and in the joy of the Lord makes all the difference in the world in which we, as God’s people, find ourselves in a day-to-day place and time.

The word for that is “vocation.” The Latin root word is vocatio, which means “calling.” Vocation is the place where God calls us to serve one another in the name of Jesus. In the time of Luther, the only vocation that was taught to be truly pleasing to God was church vocations – priests and nuns. If you were a farmer or a mother or stable-boy, your work was outside of God’s favor; it wasn’t a holy task; it was just work. Luther changed that, teaching that all of a Christian’s work is declared holy by God’s grace through faith. Let me say that again: the doctrine of vocation teaches that even your work, whatever it is, is covered in the righteousness of the cross of Jesus so God sees your work as holy and good. Further, Luther taught that in your vocation, God was at work through your service. The Christian was the means, the vehicle, through which God worked. Vocation was no longer an inverted me-to-God vertical relationship under Law where you served God; vocation was a vertical-to-horizontal God-to-me-to-neighbor relationship where the Gospel is delivered.

Suddenly, every vocation was a holy one and every vocational task, no matter how unpleasant or difficult or unpopular, was God pleasing because in and through that vocation, God is serving those around you. A Christian mother who changes her baby’s loaded diaper is doing a holy and good work as she serves her child. A Christian septic tank pumper is doing a holy and good work as he serves the client. A Christian surgeon who removed a cancerous growth is doing a holy and good work for her patient. A Christian engineer who designs bridges for safe travel is doing a holy and good work for those who travel over it. A Christian student who struggles and fights to correctly solve math equations, or grasp subject-verb agreement, or who remember the seven rivers in Texas, he is doing a holy and good work for her teacher, even if the grade book doesn’t show it.

For most of us, we have multiple and varying vocations. We have vocations in which God has placed us to provide for ourselves and our families. Nurses, pastoral ministry, teachers, office administrators, technicians, ranchers, farmers, sales, grandparent – all are vocations where the Lord calls us to serve our neighbors and, by extension, ourselves and our families. But don’t just think “job” or “career.” That’s how the world thinks. Your minds are set on something higher. Vocation is calling into service for others in the name of Jesus, remember, and we hold many such vocations of service: spouses, parents, children (yes, that means adults, too), sibling. Think outside of the family, too: you are a neighbor to those in this community, a citizen within the government of the county, state and country. Each of those are special vocations, special callings of the Lord for the baptized child of God.

You notice, I added these are Christian in their vocations and that a Christian’s works, life, and efforts are all made holy through faith in Christ. The same cannot be said for a non-Christian, someone who lacks faith or who denies Jesus. Their works and their vocation stand alone under the holy and divine judgement of God.The funny thing is that even non-Christians serve in these vocations, oftentimes very well. The funny part is, of course, that while the Lord places non-Christians in those same vocations (well, except being a pastor of course), they serve others neither recognizing the Lord’s hand nor serving others in His name.

But there is one vocation that is unique, a vocation that only someone who is part of the body of Christ can fulfill. That is the vocation of discipleship. We are called by Christ into the vocation of discipleship, following Him so that as we act and interact with others, God is at work in and through us to those around us, in particular with those in whom He places us in contact.

The earth needs to be salted with the Gospel; people need to be brightened by the Word of the Lord that both calls to repentance and proclaims forgiveness in the name of Jesus.

This is no secret: we live in a world that is evil, corrupt and deficient. It was true when Jesus walked the earth 2000 years ago and it is true still to this day. We see it every night on the news. We read it on the internet. We hear the stories of things that happen like in Nashville, where the wrong man is beat to death. Violence is excused under the pretense of protesting the violation of civil rights. We see people joyfully speaking lies and destroying the reputations of others, all in search of power. Civilians are blown to pieces because a man wants to change national boundaries. The stories the fallenness of man are enough to break anybody's heart. It'd be very easy to stick our heads in the sand, wring our hands, and moan, “Oh goodness somebody had better do something. The world is going to hell in a handbasket just as fast as it can.”

But if we do that, or rather, if that’s all we do, we're missing out on one of the gifts and the opportunities that the Lord has given to us, his church, his disciples. He's called us to discipleship. He's called us to act and to interact in a world that is dying and broken and in discord and disharmony with the will and word of God. Jesus is calling us to be salt and light to the world in both our acting out the Gospel and our speaking the Gospel. Don't overthink the metaphors. This isn't about whether salt purifies or cleanses or burns or helps or flavors. This isn't about whether light is an LED, or solar, or has too much UV light, or is a soft glow. It's about how salt changes things, and how light brightens in the darkness. In short salt and light do exactly what they do because they are salt and light. If salt isn’t salty, it’s worthless; if a light is hidden, it’s not able to shine. The same is true of disciples. Disciples disciple by daily living out the faith into which we have been baptized, so that in our good works (which have been made righteous by faith in Christ, remember) others see Christ in us and through us. By nature of being Jesus’ disciples, we are salt, we are light to the world around us and the world we live in.

Your good works, done in faithfulness to Jesus, have one overall, singular purpose: in serving your neighbor, you glorify God. It’s not about you. Your good works aren’t for attaboys and attagirls, for attention, for gold stars and blue ribbons. It’s so that others who see your good deeds give glory to God through their own repentance and faith and then thank God for you and your faithfulness.

In our vocations, there will be times for action and there will be times for words. Every moment does not have to come with a three-part witnessing statement, a handful of Gospel tracts, and an invitation for baptism. But we are called to be prepared to speak, so that when asked, or when the Lord provides opportunity for conversation, we are bold to speak of the Father’s work in creating, the Son’s work of saving, the the Spirit’s work of creating the very faith that saves. We share the same Word that was shared with us and as the Holy Spirit worked in us, so also He works through us. It's who we are, it's what we are, because we are called by Christ to be that very thing.

So, be salt and light in your vocation. On the one hand, be your ordinary self. You do not have to be Mom of the Year contender to be faithful in your vocation of motherhood. You don’t have to be Employee of the Month with your mug shot above the water cooler at work. You don’t have to convert dozens of heathens to saving faith in Christ. Be who you are as a baptized child of God. But, on the other hand, you are not ordinary. You are extra-ordinary because you are in whom and through whom Christ does great and wonderful things. So do not live as an ordinary person, that is, as someone who is not a Baptized child of God. You are called to be extra ordinary: extra-ordinary husbands and wives, extra-ordinary sons and daughters, extra-ordinary citizens and church members, extra-ordinary neighbors and employees, extra-ordinary in all that you are as children of God.  You do so with the unique gifts and talents that the Lord has given you.

There are over a dozen different salts at the grocery store, each with a slightly different taste or texture. Regardless, salt does only one thing: it salts. At the Big Orange Hardware Store, there are two full rows with lights and light fixtures. Regardless the light you get, light does one thing: it enlightens. That’s the point of comparison with discipleship. Just as salt salts and light lights, disciples disciple. Our identity is in Christ – we are His. With Christ in us and Christ working through us, we disciple. As St. Paul says, “In Him, we live, move and have our being.” As Jesus’ disciples, we “salt” those around us with the Good News of Jesus. Having received His blessings, enlighten those around us with the Word of He who is the Light of the World.