Jesus Trumps Tradition - Mark 7:1-13

The story is told of a woman and her young daughter who were getting ready to put a whole ham in the oven. When she put the ham in the roasting pan, she got out a meat saw and carefully cut off exactly one hand’s distance of the shank of the ham. The daughter asked why her mother did that. “Just because,” she answered. She thought for a minute and said, “I don’t know. It’s what I always saw my mother do. Let’s call her and find out!” So they called Grandma and asked why she always cut the ham shank off. She thought for a minute and said she didn’t know, it’s what she always saw her mother do. So she called Greatgrandma, explained why she was calling, and expecting some great culinary secret to be revealed, asked, “Why did you cut the shank of the ham off?” Greatgrandma thought for a minute and laughed. “Because Daddy always brought home the biggest ham he could find and if I left the whole shank on, it wouldn’t fit in our oven!” Three generations of ham bakers were following an unnecessary tradition “just because.”

The word “tradition” means something handed on from one person or generation to the next. Traditions connect us to the past, bringing the past into the present. The Christian apologist G.K. Chesterton called tradition the “democracy of the dead.” If all we do is focus on the present moment and have no regard for the past, we are ignoring our fathers and mothers, our grandfathers and grandmothers, and all those who came before us. A people’s culture is preserved by its traditions, and in keeping the traditions, your past becomes your present.

Religion uses tradition. All religions have their traditions – their rites, ceremonies, practices, holy days, feasts, fasts, etc. – and Christianity is no exception. Even the simply act of reading lessons from the Scriptures and preaching on them is a tradition that reaches back to the synagogues.  

But when tradition takes over and becomes the sum and substance of religion, things get mixed up. That’s what happened with the Pharisees of Jesus’ day. They were steeped in tradition – 613 rules that were created, called the Mitzwov, to do and not do in order to do the righteousness of God. Washing hands and feet and dishes and cushions, not just for personal hygiene but for ceremonial purity. And like all religious types, they took note who followed the traditions and who didn’t. And they didn’t hesitate to point it out to you too, when you weren’t keeping the traditions. They pointed it out to Jesus when His disciples dared to eat with ceremonially unclean hands. And they expected Jesus’ approval. He’s a rabbi. He needs to get his disciples in line.  

But Jesus turns the tables on them and quotes a bit of Isaiah in their direction: This people honor me with their lips, but their heart is far from. In vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrine the commandments of men.”

When tradition takes over, when it becomes the thing itself, the main thing gets lost. Or as Jesus said, “You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men.”

Here’s a tradition for you. The commandment of God says, “Honor your father and mother,” which also includes taking care of them when they’re old and providing for them. But the tradition of the pharisees said that if you declared a portion of your wealth to be “Korban,” which was like sacrificing it in advance, then you didn’t have to use it to help your parents. And God was supposed to be tickled about this, because the sacrifices were for Him in the end, so how could He possibly not like that?

What’s the problem here? It's to think that God needs our sacrifices. That’s pagan. The pagans thought that the gods needed to be fed and liquored and kept happy. It doesn’t work that way with God. He doesn’t need or want anything from us but faith. You've heard this over and over in our readings from Mark and John the past few months. That’s all He wants. Faith. Trust in His Word and promises. “I desire mercy not sacrifice.” He says it over and over again in the OT. Jesus repeated it to these same pharisees. I desire mercy not sacrifice. Mercy directed to the neighbor in need. Mercy to mother and father. Mercy to the broken stranger in the ditch. Mercy to the least and lost and lowly. Mercy to sinners, forgiveness to those who have wronged you, mercy even to those who hate you and revile you and persecute you.

See, it’s not so easy now, is it? Lip service to God. That part’s easy. Just say the right words in God’s direction or do the right things so he sees. We made 38 out of 52 Sundays plus a couple of the midweek services – that ought to be worth something. At the end of the year, if you’ve used all of your offering envelopes, do you feel like you’ve done your part? Or if we had our sons and daughters baptized, then we take our kids to Sunday school and confirmation class, then we’ve done our Christian duty and we can drop off the church radar screen after that. Or maybe it’s providing sandwiches for five church activities, serving on four nominating committees, being three times on council, attending two Bible study groups, and having one personalized Bible cover. 

Before you think, “now, he’s just being ridiculous,” that’s exactly the point I am making: when tradition takes over, we become preoccupied with what we are doing for God rather than what God has done and is doing for us. But mercy to those God whom has put around you, not so easy. “This people honors me with their lips but their hearts are far from me.” Faith toward God, fervent love for one another. That’s what He desires. Faith-full hearts from which flow mercy and love toward others.

The pharisees missed it. With all their religious rules and regulations, with all their ritual washings, with all their traditions, they missed the one needful thing. They missed Jesus. They missed the mercy of God that was theirs in Jesus. They missed the cleansing that all their washings could not work. They missed the most wonderful thing God has ever done, and will ever do, for the world – the sending of His beloved Son in the flesh to be our savior. They were like noisy patrons at a movie theater, so busy talking to each other, they missed the best part of the movie. The pharisees were so busy with their traditions, with their religious dos and don’ts, they missed the great good news that Christ came to save sinners not saints. That He came to redeem sinners not the redeemable. That He came to raise the dead not the living.

They missed it. And lest we look down our long, Lutheran noses at them, realize that we would have missed it too. We are ever in the same danger. We focus on our hands rather than the hands of God. We focus on our doing rather than God’s doing. We focus on what we think God wants from us rather than what God says He wants from us – mercy not sacrifice. The only sacrifice that matter to Him is the One that Jesus offered in obedience to His Father. The only offering that can be held before God is the offering of Jesus’ life for your life. Prayer, praise, thanksgiving, worship? Sure, God delights to hear from us as any loving Father delights to hear from His children. But we don’t do these things to be pleasing to God; we do them because in Christ we are pleasing to Him.

Luther once said famously, “Sin boldly and trust Christ even more boldly,” and you can see how that can be used in all sorts of wrong ways. But Luther said it to someone who was constantly and obsessively worried over his sin, like someone whose hands could not be clean enough and kept scrubbing them until the skin started to crack.

Heard rightly, it’s a statement of freedom and life and salvation. It’s Jesus saying to each of you today, never mind how soiled and messed up your life may be. You know how bad it is, and I know it even better than you do. And there’s no amount of tradition keeping, much less commandment keeping, that is going to make you pure enough to sit at my table. There is nothing you can offer God that is going to make it right again. But come anyway and trust me when I say you are welcome. Never mind all the ways religion tries to lay some sacrificial burden on you, come to me all who are weary and burdened, and I will welcome you, and feed you, cleanse you, forgive you and save you. The pharisees will cluck their tongues and wag their accusing fingers at you, but you come to me. And I will give you rest.”

In the name of Jesus,
Amen

To Parents of College Freshmen: Breathe

Sharing this for parents who are dying inside at the thought of their kid leaving home in a few weeks. I was there myself. I survived...you will, too. 

To Parents of College Freshmen: Breathe

To all of you parents whose heart is breaking at the idea of your son or daughter to college: breathe.

This is what you have been preparing them for with countless amounts of energy spent, prayers, tears, hand claps and high fives, papers proofed and edited, formulas memorized, swats on the rump, groundings, scoldings, attaboys and attagirls, hugs, and words of encouragement.

Breathe.

You have taught them and, ready or not, it's time for them to take the next step towards adulthood. Do you remember how hard the first day of her kindergarten was, how difficult the first of high school was for him, and how they have managed each step between? You were there, all along the way. You did it together.

Now he'll go forward on his own, she'll take another step, going down that path you helped lay.

Breathe.

Your heart will be breaking and filled with pride of what your son or daughter has accomplished at the same time. You will be filled with wonder and fear of what his or future holds. These are real feelings - honor and respect them.

Breathe.

You will survive, no matter what your heart says right now. Your son or daughter - whom you still see holding your hand, toddling next to you, asking for a juice box - is now a young adult. She will have successes; he will make mistakes; she will call home giggling; he will call home, ashamed to admit he misses you. Listen to them, tell them you love them, and encourage them to make a new friend, or try something new, or that you remember how hard it was for you.

Breathe.

Tell an embarrassing story of how you cried yourself to sleep the first night in the dorm, or how you dropped your tray in the cafeteria, or when you ran into the Dean of Students when you weren't paying attention to where you were going. Tell them it was hard, but you survived, and learned, and grew... and they will do these things, also.

Breathe.

Tell them what you told them when they were little and tucked them in at night, "Remember...you mom loves you, your dad loves you, and Jesus loves you most of all." Tell them you'll talk tomorrow, you need to go, and goodbye. Hang up the phone.

Breathe.

Then cry.  Go check his room and make sure he didnt forget something. Look in the bathroom, make sure she didn't leave her favorite bath robe behind the door. Talk to your husband, talk with your wife, talk to a friend; tell them what you feel and listen to what is said. Know you're not alone.

Breathe...

And breathe...

And keep breathing...

The Scandal of the Cross - John 6:60-69

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the Gospel lesson from John 6.

It seems that everyone is offended these days. We are offended by the music people listen to. We are offended by the television programs and movies that are produced and the actors who star in them. We are offended by football players who kneel and people who refuse to stand for what they believe in. We are offended by art and the artists who make it. We are offended by battery powered cars, or pickups that belch clouds of black smoke; by red states and blue politicians; by sloppy joes being called barbeque and barbeque served without sauce; by long hair and short skirts --- or is it short hair and long skirts? We are offended by the company’s human resource rules and regulations, and we report our being offended to the HR department so they can offend someone else. If defense is the best offense, as every football fan knows, then being offended must be the best defense.

As a result, we now live in a world where we no longer give each other the benefit of the doubt. The 8^th Commandment encourages us, in love, to bear all things, hope all things, believe all things and endure all things, but we are being taught – or perhaps we’re simply being out-shouted – that we need to hurry up and be offended so we can get what we want when we want it. So people look for things to be offended about and in our world, the list is as long as you want it to be. Social offenses, political offenses – we have them a-plenty. But perhaps the thing that causes the most offense is religion, and of all of the religions in the world, the one that seems to continually cause the most offense is Christianity and the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Over the past several weeks, we have been reading through John 6. It began with Jesus feeding the 5000 with five loaves and two fish and the people wanting to make Jesus their king. Who wouldn’t? Could you imagine: an unlimited supply of food without having to either work for it or pay for it? Oh, wait…the Israelites had that in the wilderness, didn’t they, for 40 years and they grumbled constantly about having the same thing day in and day out. And when Jesus brings this up to the people who have gathered around – both Jewish leaders and his disciples (the larger grouping of people who followed him, not just The Twelve), and then teaches that He is the Bread of Life and those who eat – that is, believe – will live forever, unlike their fathers in the desert, they were taken aback. “This is a hard saying; who can listen to it?” they asked. Jesus, in turn, asks them, “Do you take offense at this?” In fact, the Greek word used for our English word, “offended,” is “skandalon” – you can hear our word “scandal,” right? They weren’t just offended…they were scandalized by what Jesus had to say.

Scandal helps us understand how severe this was. I can take offense at something, but generally we get over that mess. But a scandal is something that is literally a stumbling block – a scandal causes me to lose faith in someone. It makes me rethink my whole idea about something. It might change my opinion, force me to rethink my ideology, even doubt what I have believed in the past. We move past an offense; but a scandal is a major hurdle to overcome.

Jesus asked them, “Are you offended…are you scandalized by this?” The question is rhetorical – He knew the answer: “You are scandalized, aren’t you?” He knew they were murmuring and grumbling the same way their forefathers had in the wilderness against Moses. They are being scandalized by who Jesus is. He’s not just a bread maker; He is the very Bread of Life itself. He’s not just the son of Mary; He is Bread which has come down from Heaven, meaning, from the very hand of God Himself. They are being scandalized that Jesus instructs them to believe in Him as God in flesh, and that by eating His flesh and drinking His blood – and here, he means in a spiritual sense, not a sacramental sense – one will live forever. A Jew would never dare succumb to cannibalism or touching blood. Such things made one unclean, and that Jesus seemed to be expecting this was simply too much. But the icing on the cake, the idea that made the tabloids of Jerusalem, was the idea that this Messiah would have to die to attain His throne. Body and blood talk is death talk, and – to paraphrase General George Patton – every Israelite knew that no Messiah becomes a Messiah by dying at the hands of the enemy. The cross was the final stumbling stone. A crucified Messiah was no Messiah at all because everyone knew that someone who died at the hands of the Romans was not only a criminal but a man cursed by God.

The scandal was just too much for many of those who had been following Jesus. They had their bellies filled on the hillside, they chased Jesus around the shoreline, they listened to what He said, but all of this bread, body and blood talk…it was too much. It gave them spiritual indigestion. When something bothers the tummy, you don’t eat it. This bothered them so much, it was such a great stumbling stone to their faith, it was such a scandal that they simply could not tolerate it any further. They changed their opinions of Jesus; they turned and walked away.

The Gospel of Jesus still causes offense today. People outside the Church – Capitol C, the Christian church - still walk away from Jesus and His gifts. To those who seek offense, Jesus’ teaching has plenty to be offended by. They are scandalized by His teaching that He is the only way that leads to eternal life. They are shocked that He tells us to receive His body and drink His blood, not only spiritually, but also sacramentally in bread and wine for the forgiveness of sins, and that He is truly present in this meal. They are outraged that there is salvation in no other name under heaven given among men by which we may be saved. And, sadly, there are some who refuse to believe Jesus’ death is truly all-sufficient, and that by faith in Him one may have eternal life in His name.

The irony is there is nothing to be scandalized by. He came to seek and to save the lost; he came to rescue and redeem sinners; He came to give himself for those who had nothing left to give; He came to feed with food that has no expiration date and never spoils or fades. He is the great physician of body and soul Who comes to heal those who could not heal themselves from eternal damnation. He didn't come to establish an earthly Kingdom. His Kingdom, on earth and in heaven, endures into eternity without beginning or end. He doesn't demand foolish allegiance but he does call us to faith in him, trusting that His life , death, and resurrection are the all sufficient payment for all of your sins and mine. He doesn’t come to be served, but to serve and to give His life for many. Simply, this is why Jesus came:  “that everyone who looks on the Son and believes in Him should have eternal life and I will raise Him up on the last day” (v. 40).

And some are scandalized by the church, too. Now, here, by church I am talking of a local congregation or even a church body, church with a lower case c. I’ve served three congregations, and all three – including Zion – have had a scandalous moment. Those are sad times in a church’s history because it does cause some to stumble in faith and some, sadly, not only stumble but fall – fall away from the congregation and even fall away from faith in Jesus as a result. If you haven’t heard, the Roman Catholic Church is being traumatized by a terrible scandal in Pennsylvania. Last week, a grand jury finding shows that six of eight Roman Catholic Dioceses in the state knew that at least three hundred priests were sexual predators in parishes. In their report, they found 1000 named victims and estimate there were countless more. If this is even partly true, this is truly a scandal of epic proportions.

The idea that a man of God, called by God to the Holy Ministry, could be tempted and submit to such vile and reprehensible acts, just the thought of it makes Christians – and especially our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters in Christ – stumble. And it makes us pause, realizing that we are all sinful. We join them in repentance for our own sexual sins of thought, word and deed. We pray for those who were abused and forced to remain silent. And, we pray for the men who are accused of committing these sins against God and their parishioners, that these who guilty repent of their sins and trust that God, in His grace for the sake of Christ, forgives even these sins.

That forces us to return to the question Jesus asks His disciples: what about you? Are you scandalized by this amazing, life-giving gift for sinners like these? It’s easy to say Jesus forgives the little sins – our potty mouth, the lustful, sideways glances, stealing a few hours of company time while playing on social media – those, sure Jesus forgives those. But these sins, these crimes? Is this too much for you to believe – that a Christian pastor who sexually assaulted and violated a man, woman, or child entrusted to his spiritual care, that this man can also be forgiven by Jesus? Is that too much to believe so that it’s a scandal for you?

The cross knows no limits. There are no oversized loads at the cross. Jesus doesn’t weigh or measure sins and determine that the cross can’t stand the weight and has to be left on the sinner’s back. Jesus takes them all, regardless of what we perceive the size to be. He even takes yours. Remember: all sins, including yours, deserve condemnation. All sins, including the sin of arrogance that says, “Well, at least my sins aren’t as bad as his…or hers…or theirs.” Jesus died for them all. In faith, repentance dumps your sin, my sin, their sins at the foot of the cross and says, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You died for this damnable burden, so I am leaving it where You paid it’s price. Because You rose, I know that my sins will no longer be held against me into eternity. These are the words of eternal life. I know them, believe them, trust them and rely on these promises and on these promises alone.”

When the Lord Takes Your Life - 1 Kings 19:1-8

Grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. The text is the OT lesson read a few moments ago.

“It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.”

Burn-out is a terrible feeling. Burnout happens when you work and work and work at something and you start to feel like a hamster on the wheel…you’re tired but you can’t stop…so you go some more. You start to question whether you are accomplishing anything, or just wasting your time. You start to feel like your work is in vain, that your efforts are being wasted, that you aren’t making any difference or gaining any headway.

It’s a feeling people can know all too well.  In a recent FORBES magazine article, 95% of human resource leaders say that burnout is a major problem in their company.[1] What the survey showed is that it doesn’t matter what the job is, or the task being undertaken, or the individual’s position, anyone can reach that burn out stage at some point.  Burn-out has a way of sneaking up on us.  Psychologytoday.com describes what can happen under burnout.[2] Burn-out can be dangerous. It makes us feel alone, and like no one understands.  It makes us feel like we’re the only ones doing anything.  It makes us feel like all our tireless efforts have earned us the right to lash out.  Burn-out wears us down and overwhelms.  It really brings out the worst in us.  Sometimes, a change of pace – changing jobs, changing projects, moving to a new city – can recharge and invigorate us again and give us a new sense of purpose and direction. But, in a serious, severe burnout completely consumes to the point that it feels like there’s nothing left to give.

If you have experienced burnout before, you have a sense of Elijah’s life. He has just done battle with Baal and it’s prophets. The altars were built, the cattle slaughtered, the priests and prophets worked themselves into tizzy while praying up a storm all to no avail. Not a peep was heard from Baal. Elijah got into the game as well, heckling the prophets and mocking Baal – “He’s in the bathroom, or taking a hike, or asleep at the switch. Better work harder!” So the prophets of Baal went from a tizzy to a frenzy throughout the afternoon, culminating in a conniption fit, even cutting themselves to get Baal’s attention. Still nothing.

Then it was Elijah’s turn. His instructions were followed: twelve stones, stacked; trench, dug; wood, arranged; bull, slaughtered, cut and placed; water, poured. And when he prayed, God sent fire from heaven and consumed it all – stones, dust, wood, bull and water – and at the command of Elijah, the prophets were seized, and they were slaughtered at that very site. He may not have been on top of the world, but he was certainly on the top of Mt. Caramel. 

Then comes word that he was now public enemy number one. Jezebel hung his photo on the wall of every post office in ancient Israel and, like an old western, he had to get out of Dodge by this time tomorrow.  What good was he? He had done what the Lord asked; he had done battle against Baal in the Word of the Lord; he had stood against Jezebel and Ahab with the name of the Lord. Now, he was to be hunted down and executed. What was the use? If this was all there was to life… He parked himself under a bush and prayed, “It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers.”

And our Lord, Elijah’s Lord, He heard the cries of this faithful man of God, this prophet of God who was burned up and burned out, who had nothing left to give. The Lord heard his prayer and the Lord answered. And the Lord took Elijah’s life, but not as Elijah had hoped.

Elijah’s life had gotten turned in on itself. All he could see was his himself. Thinking he was done, a waste of air, water and food, he prayed to die. “Take my life…” The Lord takes Elijah’s life and turns it back in the right direction – towards the Lord. An angel of the Lord appears to strengthen Elijah in his body with food from heaven. Once, twice, the angel wakes Elijah to eat and drink; once, twice Elijah rises and eats at the angel’s urging. And, with that simple food, the Lord takes Elijah’s life and restores it.

You know how the rest of the narrative plays out: the Lord leads Elijah to the cave and after the wind blows past, and the earthquake makes the ground shake, and the firestorm sweeps through the canyon, but the Lord was in none of those forces of creation. They are all under God’s control, but He didn’t use any of them to project His authority. Then the still, small voice of the Lord appears. With that still, small voice the Lord Almighty takes Elijah’s life for His service, re-instituting Elijah as prophet. The Lord gives Elijah a prophetic word of how He will rescue and save Israel. And with his life taken, and with life given, Elijah continues to speak “Thus saith the Lord,” both to Israel and to her enemies.

“It is enough, O Lord; take my life.” I think we have all had those moments in the life – again, not suicidal, but take this life of hurt, and pain, and concern, and being consumed. It happens to Christians in all vocations: teachers, lawyers, truck drivers, construction workers, engineers, farmers, ranchers, machinists, seamstresses, cooks, bakers, plumbers, students, coaches and parents. It happens to pastors, too. Ask people why they feel burned out and you get a myriad of reasons: low pay, poor job satisfaction, high stress, insurmountable expectations, feeling inadequately prepared, a boss that turned against an employee add fuel to the fire. Depression, loneliness, and anger rare their ugly heads. And as mental and physical health suffers, families and marriages suffer as well.

Here’s why this is important for Christians. Burn out is bad enough, but then the devil takes all of those feelings and emotions and whatever else he can to lead a child of God to fear, despair and other great shame or vice. He makes you doubt the promises of God for you, that if you were a good enough Christian, this wouldn’t be happening to you. He makes you doubt your faithfulness in your vocation, in your home, and even in your relationship to Jesus. Satan means “father of lies,” remember, and he’ll lie however he can to make you take your eyes off of Jesus. Maybe this was you, or this may even be you right now, where you sit and pray, “It’s enough, O Lord…take my life.”

So, the Lord does. He takes your life from you. Your Lord takes your life from you and drowns it in the font, burying your life with Christ and raising it to life in Christ as well. Your Lord Jesus, who loves you more than He loved Himself, took all of your life’s frustrations and anger and shame and guilt and peeled them all away from your life and attached them to Himself. He doesn’t shake you with an earthquake, He doesn’t knock you down with a windstorm, He doesn’t burn you up in fire. Instead, He takes each and every one of your doubts and disbeliefs and moments of despair and He turns to you and lovingly says, with a still small voice, “Let me take that from you.” He takes your life away and gives you His: His life, His perfection, His holiness, His sinlessness is imparted to you.

And, in that moment, you can join Paul in saying, “it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me,” (Gal 2:20).

Again, today, your life was taken from you; again, today, His life is given for you. He strengthens you to leave this place and return to your own place of life and service to your neighbor in the name of Christ.

And, to you, the one from whom the Lord has taken life and to whom the Lord has given life, so you don’t leave here wanting, still hungering and thirsting for righteousness, to you He speaks again, through the still small voice, speaking to you His love and mercy, reminding you that indeed all of your sins have been washed away in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

---

[1] https://www.forbes.com/sites/groupthink/2017/02/01/the-biggest-workplace-challenge-employee-burnout/#15f3ee8c3549

[2] https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/basics/burnout

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When God Hides - Mark 6: 45-52

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But He is found where you might not be seeking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christ's Compassion - Mark 6:30-44

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

I think for many people, compassion is a synonym of kindness. Not really. It’s much, much more than kindness. Compassion is mercy put into flesh-and-blood action. Compassion is a visceral reaction, meaning it’s what makes your guts hurt when you see something and just have to respond. Compassion hits you in the gut. In fact, the word evolved from describing the waste after butchering. Compassion is a gut-testing thing and it usually means getting dirty, getting down on someone’s level where they are. Compassion moves you from inaction and into action and it leads you in the dirt – figuratively or literally – down in the ditch in the dust or the muck. Compassion inserts you into their pain, in their misery, whether it’s with a friend in the unemployment office, working in Christ’s kitchen, sitting at the death-bed, or standing in the funeral home as someone stares down the valley of the shadow – getting down eyeball to eyeball with them and be with them in that hard, difficult place and time. Compassion puts you on their level. Compassion says “I’m not better than you…I’m with you, and I won’t let you be alone.” Compassion is visceral.  

The reason I tell you all of this is that it is hugely significant that St. Mark says that Jesus has compassion when he sees the shepherd-less people. Do you get it? This isn’t some distant, far-off and aloof Divinity. This Jesus is God-in-flesh, perfect God who comes to dwell among His own dear people. This same Jesus, who was with God from the beginning, now stands as a man among people and what He sees hurts.  His pain is so deep that His guts hurt. And when Jesus hurts, He must act.

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

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

What makes Jesus feel compassion is this: the people were like sheep without a shepherd. They were a congregation without a pastor – not because the pastors weren’t there. Oh, no – they were there, alright. All of the people whose responsibilities include caring for the eternal souls and welfare of the people, feeding them God’s Word, blessing them with His name, imparting and delivering the gifts of God day in and day out, praying and interceding for them – all of these shepherds stood by and abandoned their flocks to be consumed by the wolves and bears and lions of the devil, the world, and their own sinful flesh. And, meanwhile, as the sheep were devoured one by one by being led to take their eyes off of the promise of the coming Messiah, now fulfilled in Jesus, the shepherds got fat and sassy. They debated the fine intricacies of the Law and argued ways people were guilty of breaking the Law…all the while holding themselves up as high, and great, and holy men. They proffered themselves as near divine with practically sinless lives all the while looking down their pharaisaical noses at sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. Instead of having compassion of their own for these people of God, these sheep, who were wandering and in danger of being forever lost and damned, they passed by, lest they dirty themselves in the process. They were compassionless for those who needed compassion.

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

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

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

His compassion is found, chiefly, not in miracles, or exorcisms, the raising from the dead or even in feeding 5000 with a boy’s lunch. His compassion is found in the cross. The Kingdom is at hand, Jesus said – the time for His Cross is drawing closer. Because of His great compassion, He will suffer and die and rise for the entire world. His guts will hurt – so much so that he sweats great drops of blood. But it’s not just his guts…it’ll be his back from the whips, and his face from the slaps, and his head from the crown of thorns, and his spirit…his spirit as He realizes that even His Father in heaven has abandoned him in the face of hell on earth as the entire sin-filled burden of the world is emptied out upon Him. He takes it all, out of His great compassion for you.

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

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

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