"Reflecting God's Mercy"
Luke 6:36-42
Listen here.
Martin Chemnitz, “the second Martin,” once said: “Good works are like the sun: It’s nature is to give light; you don’t have to command it to do so.” It’s what Jesus does for you, and it’s how He calls you live and practice mercy with one another. It’s why Jesus says, “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.” It’s like the relationship of the sun and the moon. The sun is the source of light and abundantly radiates that light. The moon also gives light, but that light is not its own. The moon simply reflects the light it receives from the sun. God is the source of mercy and gives abundant mercy through His Son Jesus. His Christians also show mercy as they reflect the mercy that they receive from God Himself. “Jesus’ disciples are to be characterized by mercy and forgiveness and thus portray God’s character to the world.” (Just, 295)
The first thing Jesus says to you today is: “Imitate your heavenly Father.” Children love to imitate their parents. They dress up in Mom and Dad’s clothes. They carry around a purse like Mom’s or a tool like Dad’s. Remember this when you hear Jesus say, “Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful.” First, comes the Father’s mercy, then comes the Christian’s mercy as he/she imitates Papa in heaven. And in the Bible “mercy” is more than attitude or emotion. “Mercy” shows itself in concrete actions.
The Father shows His mercy in the concrete act of sending His own Son Jesus into this broken, fallen, messy, sick, chaotic world to rescue and redeem sinners such as us. Christians then, enlivened by the Holy Spirit through Gospel preaching, Baptism, Absolution, and Lord’s Supper, show mercy in many and various concrete actions of daily life.
But you and I like to pretend that we are something we’re not. We like to think that we are above other people. We choose to treat them in whatever way we want. That’s not being merciful! When you “have issues” with other people—in your family, at work, or in the Church—it’s usually because they are not saying or doing things that you prescribe or demand. This leads to the judging and condemning that Jesus warns against. When you judge or condemn, you’re not imitating God’s mercy; you’re trying to play God.
Yet God still shows mercy to people like us. He shows His mercy in the very concrete act of sending His Son Jesus to take on our human flesh and blood, live our life, die in our place on a bloody cross, rest in the tomb, and rise again on the third day. Because of Jesus’ sacrifice, God forgives you and gives you new life.
So you get to imitate your heavenly Father. You get to interact with people—especially fellow Christians—in their chaotic, messed up lives and in their viral infection of self-serving. You get to show mercy and forgiveness. St. Paul said, “Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God” (Eph. 5:1-2). St. John said, “Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another” (1 Jn. 4:11).
The second thing Jesus says to you today is: “What you dish out, you get back.” Jesus gives some practical examples: “Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you.”
Now this is probably one of the most misquoted and misunderstood verses in the Bible. We live in a time when tolerance is king; we are to judge absolutely nothing, no matter how raunchy, perverted, or misleading it gets. We are told to tolerate everything from killing babies in the womb to so-called “marriages” that cannot possibly bear children without outside help. To 21st century American ears and mouths “tolerate” has come to mean “approve of,” “bless,” even “kneel down and grovel.” We Christians are told that whenever we talk of Jesus as the only Savior from sin and the only way to life with God, we are being “intolerant” and “judgmental.” When we Christians stand for God’s ways of protecting life and marriage in the public square, we are told to hush up and “be tolerant.” When we reopen our churches to gather for hearing God’s Word, singing His praises, and receiving our Lord’s Body and Blood as we have for centuries, we are told that we are “killing grandma.”
But even Jesus warned against false teachers and their infectious teachings. And St. Paul warned against those who would give you another “gospel” that’s not focused on Christ alone for forgiveness and life. And St. John gave this judgment: “every spirit that does not confess Jesus Christ is not from God” (1 Jn. 4:3).
What’s Jesus talking about? Well, He’s not talking about legitimate, moral decisions in a court of law. After all, He gives the governing and judicial authorities. Instead, Jesus is talking about those frequent, petty criticisms that happen any time sinners get together. She really made me mad with her negative comments. His attitude really offended me. And so on.
Jesus is not talking about judging doctrine and life. Jesus does want us to judge doctrine and confront sin. He wants us to make sure that His Church teaches His pure Word in all that it says. But He does not want us to make judgments or condemnations about doctrine and life without substantial evidence. Jesus says don’t judge or condemn based on your own personal standards, or based on the world’s standards, or based on a misunderstanding of God’s Word. Instead, let God’s judgments be yours. When God says something is wrong and sinful—say, murder, abortion, racism, adultery, homosexuality, theft, cheating, lying, gossip, slander, coveting, and discontent—then you may also say it’s wrong. When God says something is true, good, and beautiful—say, loving Him, serving your neighbor in need, defending the defenseless, treating all people as human regardless of skin color, protecting marriage, remaining pure before marriage, feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, protecting reputations—then you may also make the same good judgment.
Instead of being characterized by judging and condemning, Jesus wants you, His forgiven children, to be known by forgiveness and giving. After all, Jesus let Himself be judged and condemned in your place, in order that you may be forgiven and be given His life.
So Jesus says, “Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you.” As you dish it out, it will come back to you. If you judge, condemn and criticize, then you can expect to be judged, condemned and criticized…perhaps by other people, but especially by God. When you forgive and give, though—when you love your neighbor—then God will continue to forgive and give. St. Paul said it well: “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all…. Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”
And the final thing Jesus says to you today: “Clear out your vision to help your neighbor.” Jesus tells a little parable. A friend of yours gets a speck of sawdust in his eye. But you have a 6 foot long 4x4 beam sticking out of yours. How can you say, “Here let me help you,” when you can’t even see your own problem? Jesus exaggerates to make a point: “First take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.”
Translation: Yes, your neighbor has sins. But before you deal with your neighbor’s sins, confess your own. Once you rest in Jesus’ forgiveness for your humongous sins, then you can help your neighbor with his itty-bitty sins that may vex you. In order to show mercy, you need to receive Jesus’ mercy. And that’s what you get to do every Sunday in the Divine Service. You confess your sins—not your neighbor’s sins—and you receive Jesus’ forgiveness. You hear His Word and His works of mercy read and proclaimed. Jesus heals you by His words and works, and He removes the 4x4 beams from your eyes.
After you receive God’s mercy in Christ, you get to sing and pray for God’s mercy for each other, for the Church, and for the world. “Lord, have mercy.” “Lamb of God, You take away the sin of the world; have mercy on us.” And today we hear the story of Joseph to illustrate what Jesus says. Joseph suffered greatly because of his brothers’ evil deeds. But he did not hold those sins against them. He chose not to play God. Instead, he imitated God—he reflected God’s mercy—by forgiving and showing mercy to his brothers. As Joseph said, “God meant it for good…that many people should be kept alive.”
Yes, there are times when you need to point out the sins of other people. Don’t do it to judge or condemn. Instead, do it to bring your relative or friend or fellow Christian into Christ’s mercy. After all, we don’t want our friends or family—especially our brothers and sisters in Christ—to live and die in their sin. We want them to rest and relax in Jesus’ cross-won, Gospel-given mercy. You can be merciful, because in Jesus your Father is merciful to you. Amen.
Random pickings from a Lutheran pastor devoted to the life of Christ in the Body of Christ for the life of the world.
Showing posts with label Mercy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mercy. Show all posts
05 July 2020
30 March 2018
Homily for Good Friday - 2018
"The Wounds that Heal"
Isaiah 53:1-6
Listen here.
We adore You, O Christ, and we bless You, for by Your holy cross, You have redeemed the world. Amen.
Crucifixes make us uncomfortable—and well they should. We squirm before them, and it has nothing to do with any anti-Catholic bias. It is simply painful to gaze upon our Lord’s extreme suffering. And we know the reason for His suffering. We shudder before it. We sing:
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain. (LSB 450:3)
In the darkness of that Good Friday, the totality of human sin—from the first sin of our first parents to the last sin of the last human being alive—all of it was gathered up, pressed together, and then off-loaded onto this one Man. He bore the whole weight of it. He owned it all as His very own. Thus He also bore its penalty—both temporal death and eternal death.
Look upon the cross of Christ. See His wounds, the nails pinning His hands and feet to the beams. See the blood running down His face from the thorns. Behold the quivering mass of His mutilated back as He is forced to rub it against the tree, pulling up on the nails through His wrists and pushing up against the nails through His feet to gasp for just a small breath of air. Look, seek, realize: this wounded Man, dying in utter agony, is not suffering for a single wrong that He has done. As we have seen, His whole life was only love. He was the only human being who ever completely loved the Father with His all and His neighbor as Himself. Yet it is because Jesus is love that He now takes His place upon the tree. Love will not leave the sinner in his sin. Love takes that sin upon Himself. Love is wounded to grant us healing. He is offering atonement for all the wrongs that we have done.
Yes, it is hard to look a crucifix in the face. It’s hard because it is so hard to accept the truth we sing:
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
’Tis I deserve Thy place. (LSB 450:3)
Still, it is most salutary to look—most salutary to fall on our knees before His bleeding image and ponder it. It is good even to beg Him to imprint this image on our hearts and minds, so that we may carry it with us wherever we go, so that it will also be before our eyes in the moment of our death.
You see, when the moment of your death comes to you, Satan will press hard. In that moment most of all, he will seize his last chance to snatch you away from God forever, and he has a powerful weapon to use. The cunning serpent minimizes sin when he tries to lure you into it with temptations, but then he maximizes your sins in your memory in the hours of despair. When death is coming for you, he will happily set up the DVD player in your mind and replay for you the many sins you have forgotten all about. He will taunt you, then, that you are no Christian. He will declare you unfit for the kingdom of God. He will tell you that you are his and that you actually wanted to be his with every sin you committed along the way. And all the while all those sins will be playing in vivid, high-definition detail and color before your eyes as you are struggling in death.
That is why it is vital to train yourself throughout your life to look upon the crucifix, to behold your Savior’s wounds, and to hold them close to your heart, counting them as your most precious treasure. In the hour of your death, they will be your only weapon against the despair of the enemy. When the accuser brings all those sins before your eyes, you will be able to look at all of them, and you will be able to acknowledge their ugly, hideous nature as an irrefutable testimony to your countless failures. But over against all those sins you will set another image—the image Isaiah puts before us today; the image of the Crucified One. It is this image that will shatter the devil’s attempts to draw you into despair before your death. And so we sing:
Remind me of Thy passion
When my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfold Thee.
Who dieth thus dies well. (LSB 450:7)
The image you want before your eyes as they are closing in death is the image of the Son of God in His last agonies, the image of the Son of God fully owning and answering for your every sin, the image of the Son of God pouring out His blood to blot out the accusations of the Law that Satan hurls against you. You see, as awful as your sins are, each one has been accounted for, each one has been covered over in innocent blood, the blood of your Lamb, your Jesus. “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony” (Revelation 12:11). In that hour, you will be able to say with boldness: “Lord Jesus, you are my righteousness, just as I am your sin. You have taken upon yourself what is mine and have given to me what is yours. You have taken upon yourself what you were not and have given to me what I was not” (AE 48:12).
In this way you will most certainly be prepared for death—when the image of the Crucified One hangs before your eyes and you know that His life is now your righteousness; His death is your forgiveness; His wounds are your healing; His sufferings are your crown and glory. Dear people of God, you have been loved by God. God in the flesh, Jesus Christ, has certainly proved to be your dearest Friend. He makes you His forever. Gaze upon Him on His cross boldly, confidently, continually, and you will see.
We adore You, O Christ, and we bless You, for by Your holy cross You have redeemed the world. Amen.
Isaiah 53:1-6
Listen here.
We adore You, O Christ, and we bless You, for by Your holy cross, You have redeemed the world. Amen.
Crucifixes make us uncomfortable—and well they should. We squirm before them, and it has nothing to do with any anti-Catholic bias. It is simply painful to gaze upon our Lord’s extreme suffering. And we know the reason for His suffering. We shudder before it. We sing:
Mine, mine was the transgression,
But Thine the deadly pain. (LSB 450:3)
In the darkness of that Good Friday, the totality of human sin—from the first sin of our first parents to the last sin of the last human being alive—all of it was gathered up, pressed together, and then off-loaded onto this one Man. He bore the whole weight of it. He owned it all as His very own. Thus He also bore its penalty—both temporal death and eternal death.
Look upon the cross of Christ. See His wounds, the nails pinning His hands and feet to the beams. See the blood running down His face from the thorns. Behold the quivering mass of His mutilated back as He is forced to rub it against the tree, pulling up on the nails through His wrists and pushing up against the nails through His feet to gasp for just a small breath of air. Look, seek, realize: this wounded Man, dying in utter agony, is not suffering for a single wrong that He has done. As we have seen, His whole life was only love. He was the only human being who ever completely loved the Father with His all and His neighbor as Himself. Yet it is because Jesus is love that He now takes His place upon the tree. Love will not leave the sinner in his sin. Love takes that sin upon Himself. Love is wounded to grant us healing. He is offering atonement for all the wrongs that we have done.
Yes, it is hard to look a crucifix in the face. It’s hard because it is so hard to accept the truth we sing:
Lo, here I fall, my Savior!
’Tis I deserve Thy place. (LSB 450:3)
Still, it is most salutary to look—most salutary to fall on our knees before His bleeding image and ponder it. It is good even to beg Him to imprint this image on our hearts and minds, so that we may carry it with us wherever we go, so that it will also be before our eyes in the moment of our death.
You see, when the moment of your death comes to you, Satan will press hard. In that moment most of all, he will seize his last chance to snatch you away from God forever, and he has a powerful weapon to use. The cunning serpent minimizes sin when he tries to lure you into it with temptations, but then he maximizes your sins in your memory in the hours of despair. When death is coming for you, he will happily set up the DVD player in your mind and replay for you the many sins you have forgotten all about. He will taunt you, then, that you are no Christian. He will declare you unfit for the kingdom of God. He will tell you that you are his and that you actually wanted to be his with every sin you committed along the way. And all the while all those sins will be playing in vivid, high-definition detail and color before your eyes as you are struggling in death.
That is why it is vital to train yourself throughout your life to look upon the crucifix, to behold your Savior’s wounds, and to hold them close to your heart, counting them as your most precious treasure. In the hour of your death, they will be your only weapon against the despair of the enemy. When the accuser brings all those sins before your eyes, you will be able to look at all of them, and you will be able to acknowledge their ugly, hideous nature as an irrefutable testimony to your countless failures. But over against all those sins you will set another image—the image Isaiah puts before us today; the image of the Crucified One. It is this image that will shatter the devil’s attempts to draw you into despair before your death. And so we sing:
Remind me of Thy passion
When my last hour draws nigh.
Mine eyes shall then behold Thee,
Upon Thy cross shall dwell,
My heart by faith enfold Thee.
Who dieth thus dies well. (LSB 450:7)
The image you want before your eyes as they are closing in death is the image of the Son of God in His last agonies, the image of the Son of God fully owning and answering for your every sin, the image of the Son of God pouring out His blood to blot out the accusations of the Law that Satan hurls against you. You see, as awful as your sins are, each one has been accounted for, each one has been covered over in innocent blood, the blood of your Lamb, your Jesus. “And they have conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony” (Revelation 12:11). In that hour, you will be able to say with boldness: “Lord Jesus, you are my righteousness, just as I am your sin. You have taken upon yourself what is mine and have given to me what is yours. You have taken upon yourself what you were not and have given to me what I was not” (AE 48:12).
In this way you will most certainly be prepared for death—when the image of the Crucified One hangs before your eyes and you know that His life is now your righteousness; His death is your forgiveness; His wounds are your healing; His sufferings are your crown and glory. Dear people of God, you have been loved by God. God in the flesh, Jesus Christ, has certainly proved to be your dearest Friend. He makes you His forever. Gaze upon Him on His cross boldly, confidently, continually, and you will see.
We adore You, O Christ, and we bless You, for by Your holy cross You have redeemed the world. Amen.
01 October 2017
Homily for Trinity 16 - 2017
"Innards of Mercy"
Luke 7:11-17
Listen here.
We get a little Easter at the beginning of October. It really shouldn’t surprise us. After all, every Sunday is a little Easter. In this story of Jesus raising the widow’s son, we have a miracle that shows just who Jesus is. He is the great prophet whom God had promised for centuries. He is the fulfillment of their centuries-long hope for rescue from death. When Jesus comes, the age of Messiah—the new creation—has dawned. “The Creator Himself has come in the flesh to re-create His fallen creatures” (Just, 307).
Jesus, His disciples, and a great crowd—probably filled with joy that they were with Jesus—approach the little town of Nain. As they draw near to the town’s gate, they are met by a somber, tear-filled procession of death. A man had died. And not just any man. “The only son of his mother, and she was a widow.” What torture for her! Not only had she buried her husband however long before this, but now she was burying her son, her only-begotten son. Talk about ripping her heart asunder! Now she had absolutely no security in Israelite society. She would have no means of support. Everyone would ignore her. Everyone except Jesus, that is—that other only-begotten Son in our Gospel.
When Jesus sees her completely heartbroken, uncontrollably weeping, utterly despairing, He has compassion on her. This is key. It’s much more than feeling sorry or uttering, “Poor thing.” No, Jesus pours out His inward parts in mercy for her. It’s the same “tender mercy of our God” that Zechariah sang about at the birth of his son, John the Baptizer (Lk. 1:78). It’s the same outpouring of inward parts of mercy shown by the Good Samaritan to the beaten, bloodied man in the ditch (Lk. 10:33). It’s the same outpouring of the bowels of compassion that the prodigal father showed to his prodigal son when that son returned home in repentance (Lk. 15:20). So Jesus pours out His guts of mercy for this poor woman. God’s reign of grace and life is breaking into our world of misery and death.
Then Jesus tells her, “Do not weep.” Can you imagine? If I’m in this woman’s shoes, I’d be bristling at such an outlandish command at such a time as this. “Do not weep?! Sir, how can you even? I’ve lost my only-begotten son, my pride, my joy, my only means of support. Surely you can’t expect me to do a happy dance? Surely you can’t expect me to feel nothing, to be stoic? Of course I’m gonna weep! Of course I’m gonna cry out with the agony that overflows inside!” Now if any of us would say such a thing at a funeral, it would be quite insensitive. But Jesus can say it, and only Jesus can say it. You see, only Jesus can say it because only Jesus can do something about it.
Then Jesus does something verboten—forbidden: He actually touches the coffin-cot. Gasps all around! According to Jewish law, that would make one ritually unclean. But not Jesus! He is the very source of ritual cleanness, the true fount of genuine healing. He may very well take this young man’s death and uncleanness into Himself—soaking it up as a sponge, so to speak. But He also transmits His cleanness and His healing—and His life—into the lifeless man on the coffin-cot.
And Jesus’ words to the young man—“I say to you, arise”—say what they do and actually do what they say. By the way, the original Greek is different from the English. The English makes it sound as though the young man could muster up the energy and willpower to “arise” of his own accord. Not so in the Greek. It’s a passive verb. Jesus actually says, “Young man, I say to you, BE RAISED.” Not “raise yourself,” but “be raised”…that is, by Someone else. And who is that Someone else? Jesus, of course. And how does He raise this dead young man? By His Word, of course. His Word says what it does and does what it says, making alive, forgiving sins, and delivering salvation. As Jesus said elsewhere: “Whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life” (Jn. 5:24).
So when Jesus comes on the scene—whether in the flesh at Bethlehem or at Nain or on the cross, or even in our midst in His Word—He comes to pour out His guts to give His mercy. He comes to fulfill and complete all those other resurrections in the Bible. The prophet Elijah raised the widow’s son, to be sure (1 Kgs. 17). Then the prophet Elisha raised the Shunammite woman’s son (2 Kgs. 4). Actually, God raised those two boys through His prophets. Jesus Himself would raise Jairus’ daughter (Lk. 8) and His friend Lazarus (Jn. 11). However, all those resurrections were only the “teaser trailers” or “promo videos.” Jesus comes to show that He is “the resurrection and the life” (Jn. 11:25). He alone has the power, the only power, over death.
According to Martin Luther, the first and main thing to take away from this account of Jesus raising the widow’s son is FAITH—that we recognize our Lord Jesus from His works and believe in Him. Luther makes this application: “This and similar works of Christ should remind us that we must be very courageous and unafraid in times of sickness, pestilence, and life-threatening danger. At moments when the world says, All is lost, the Christian always responds, Not so, God still lives, and Christ rules at the right hand of God” (HP 3:25). The widow at Nain learned that she had a helper and Savior in Jesus. Her son who was resurrected learned that he had a Savior who overcomes death itself.
You and I get to learn and believe the same things, whatever our distress, whatever our lament or grief, whatever comes our way in our lifelong battle against the grave. And we have the benefit of having the rest of the story of Jesus. He showed how much He is our helper and Savior, how completely He has overcome death and the grave by going to a cross, by suffering death itself, and by rising on the third day. Even now in the Gospel and Sacraments—in words, and water, and bread and wine—our Lord spills out His mercy to comfort us, tells us not to weep, and raises us from our sin and death. What a great prophet and Savior we have! God has visited and still visits His people!
Then, according to Luther, there’s a second thing we can take away from this marvelous miracle. That is HOW TO BE MERCIFUL. Just as Jesus poured out His innards of mercy for the widow, and just as He touched the coffin-cot of the dead young man, we also learn to identify with those who suffer and spill out our innards of mercy for them. St. Paul put it this way: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15). Luther drives the point home this way: “When my poor neighbor is sick it doesn’t only mean that I should gladly help him, but his suffering must become mine in such a way that I feel it as my own, as we see here with our Lord” (HP 3:26).
Now this being merciful actually goes in two directions. One is the physical, to be sure. The other is the spiritual. Showing mercy when physical tragedy and suffering strike is easy enough to see. Our neighbor may need clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home, and so on. So we spill out the innards of mercy to help them.
But mercy is also needed in spiritual matters. What are we to do when young people are not being nurtured and raised to believe in Christ? What are we to do when grown people disregard Jesus coming in His Word and Sacraments? What are we to do with our multitude of neighbors who know nothing of Jesus and His pouring out of His innards of mercy on the cross and through the empty tomb? We weep with those who weep. We identify with them by getting to know them. We speak of Jesus and His works for them. Now and then that may involve confronting our neighbor with his/her sins. And, yes, that is merciful. After all, we don’t want our neighbor to end up separated from God for all eternity. Most of all, we want to carry them on their own coffin-cot of spiritual death to the one Man who can help, the one Man who can say, “Be raised.”
So the greatest lesson from today’s Gospel is this: not to despair when things go badly, especially when we face the grave. We have the greatest Prophet—the Savior Himself—who comes to help us and raise us. And the second is like it: that we, like Jesus, identify ourselves with our neighbor in his grief, whether physical or spiritual. May God lead us in pouring out our innards of mercy, just has He has done for us. Amen.
Luke 7:11-17
Listen here.
We get a little Easter at the beginning of October. It really shouldn’t surprise us. After all, every Sunday is a little Easter. In this story of Jesus raising the widow’s son, we have a miracle that shows just who Jesus is. He is the great prophet whom God had promised for centuries. He is the fulfillment of their centuries-long hope for rescue from death. When Jesus comes, the age of Messiah—the new creation—has dawned. “The Creator Himself has come in the flesh to re-create His fallen creatures” (Just, 307).
Jesus, His disciples, and a great crowd—probably filled with joy that they were with Jesus—approach the little town of Nain. As they draw near to the town’s gate, they are met by a somber, tear-filled procession of death. A man had died. And not just any man. “The only son of his mother, and she was a widow.” What torture for her! Not only had she buried her husband however long before this, but now she was burying her son, her only-begotten son. Talk about ripping her heart asunder! Now she had absolutely no security in Israelite society. She would have no means of support. Everyone would ignore her. Everyone except Jesus, that is—that other only-begotten Son in our Gospel.
When Jesus sees her completely heartbroken, uncontrollably weeping, utterly despairing, He has compassion on her. This is key. It’s much more than feeling sorry or uttering, “Poor thing.” No, Jesus pours out His inward parts in mercy for her. It’s the same “tender mercy of our God” that Zechariah sang about at the birth of his son, John the Baptizer (Lk. 1:78). It’s the same outpouring of inward parts of mercy shown by the Good Samaritan to the beaten, bloodied man in the ditch (Lk. 10:33). It’s the same outpouring of the bowels of compassion that the prodigal father showed to his prodigal son when that son returned home in repentance (Lk. 15:20). So Jesus pours out His guts of mercy for this poor woman. God’s reign of grace and life is breaking into our world of misery and death.
Then Jesus tells her, “Do not weep.” Can you imagine? If I’m in this woman’s shoes, I’d be bristling at such an outlandish command at such a time as this. “Do not weep?! Sir, how can you even? I’ve lost my only-begotten son, my pride, my joy, my only means of support. Surely you can’t expect me to do a happy dance? Surely you can’t expect me to feel nothing, to be stoic? Of course I’m gonna weep! Of course I’m gonna cry out with the agony that overflows inside!” Now if any of us would say such a thing at a funeral, it would be quite insensitive. But Jesus can say it, and only Jesus can say it. You see, only Jesus can say it because only Jesus can do something about it.
Then Jesus does something verboten—forbidden: He actually touches the coffin-cot. Gasps all around! According to Jewish law, that would make one ritually unclean. But not Jesus! He is the very source of ritual cleanness, the true fount of genuine healing. He may very well take this young man’s death and uncleanness into Himself—soaking it up as a sponge, so to speak. But He also transmits His cleanness and His healing—and His life—into the lifeless man on the coffin-cot.
And Jesus’ words to the young man—“I say to you, arise”—say what they do and actually do what they say. By the way, the original Greek is different from the English. The English makes it sound as though the young man could muster up the energy and willpower to “arise” of his own accord. Not so in the Greek. It’s a passive verb. Jesus actually says, “Young man, I say to you, BE RAISED.” Not “raise yourself,” but “be raised”…that is, by Someone else. And who is that Someone else? Jesus, of course. And how does He raise this dead young man? By His Word, of course. His Word says what it does and does what it says, making alive, forgiving sins, and delivering salvation. As Jesus said elsewhere: “Whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life” (Jn. 5:24).
So when Jesus comes on the scene—whether in the flesh at Bethlehem or at Nain or on the cross, or even in our midst in His Word—He comes to pour out His guts to give His mercy. He comes to fulfill and complete all those other resurrections in the Bible. The prophet Elijah raised the widow’s son, to be sure (1 Kgs. 17). Then the prophet Elisha raised the Shunammite woman’s son (2 Kgs. 4). Actually, God raised those two boys through His prophets. Jesus Himself would raise Jairus’ daughter (Lk. 8) and His friend Lazarus (Jn. 11). However, all those resurrections were only the “teaser trailers” or “promo videos.” Jesus comes to show that He is “the resurrection and the life” (Jn. 11:25). He alone has the power, the only power, over death.
According to Martin Luther, the first and main thing to take away from this account of Jesus raising the widow’s son is FAITH—that we recognize our Lord Jesus from His works and believe in Him. Luther makes this application: “This and similar works of Christ should remind us that we must be very courageous and unafraid in times of sickness, pestilence, and life-threatening danger. At moments when the world says, All is lost, the Christian always responds, Not so, God still lives, and Christ rules at the right hand of God” (HP 3:25). The widow at Nain learned that she had a helper and Savior in Jesus. Her son who was resurrected learned that he had a Savior who overcomes death itself.
You and I get to learn and believe the same things, whatever our distress, whatever our lament or grief, whatever comes our way in our lifelong battle against the grave. And we have the benefit of having the rest of the story of Jesus. He showed how much He is our helper and Savior, how completely He has overcome death and the grave by going to a cross, by suffering death itself, and by rising on the third day. Even now in the Gospel and Sacraments—in words, and water, and bread and wine—our Lord spills out His mercy to comfort us, tells us not to weep, and raises us from our sin and death. What a great prophet and Savior we have! God has visited and still visits His people!
Then, according to Luther, there’s a second thing we can take away from this marvelous miracle. That is HOW TO BE MERCIFUL. Just as Jesus poured out His innards of mercy for the widow, and just as He touched the coffin-cot of the dead young man, we also learn to identify with those who suffer and spill out our innards of mercy for them. St. Paul put it this way: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Rom. 12:15). Luther drives the point home this way: “When my poor neighbor is sick it doesn’t only mean that I should gladly help him, but his suffering must become mine in such a way that I feel it as my own, as we see here with our Lord” (HP 3:26).
Now this being merciful actually goes in two directions. One is the physical, to be sure. The other is the spiritual. Showing mercy when physical tragedy and suffering strike is easy enough to see. Our neighbor may need clothing and shoes, food and drink, house and home, and so on. So we spill out the innards of mercy to help them.
But mercy is also needed in spiritual matters. What are we to do when young people are not being nurtured and raised to believe in Christ? What are we to do when grown people disregard Jesus coming in His Word and Sacraments? What are we to do with our multitude of neighbors who know nothing of Jesus and His pouring out of His innards of mercy on the cross and through the empty tomb? We weep with those who weep. We identify with them by getting to know them. We speak of Jesus and His works for them. Now and then that may involve confronting our neighbor with his/her sins. And, yes, that is merciful. After all, we don’t want our neighbor to end up separated from God for all eternity. Most of all, we want to carry them on their own coffin-cot of spiritual death to the one Man who can help, the one Man who can say, “Be raised.”
So the greatest lesson from today’s Gospel is this: not to despair when things go badly, especially when we face the grave. We have the greatest Prophet—the Savior Himself—who comes to help us and raise us. And the second is like it: that we, like Jesus, identify ourselves with our neighbor in his grief, whether physical or spiritual. May God lead us in pouring out our innards of mercy, just has He has done for us. Amen.
27 August 2017
Homily for Trinity 11 - 2017
"Lifetime Lesson for Living by Grace"
Luke 18:9-14
Listen here.
Two men walk into the temple to pray. No, it’s not the set up line for a joke. It’s Jesus’ way of teaching just how we live all of life as His justified and forgiven people.
First, let me give a rather literal rendition of today’s Gospel, and let’s see what pops out for us to behold:
“He [Jesus] spoke this parable to some who have convinced themselves that they are righteous and [thus] look down on the rest of people: ‘Two men went up into the temple to pray, the one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. Upon standing up the Pharisee prayed these things with reference to himself: “God, I thank You that I am not just like the rest of the human race—those who are greedy, those who do wrong, those who commit adultery, or even like this tax collector [here]. I fast the two required days of the week, I give the exact tithe of everything that I acquire.” But the tax collector, standing far off, was not even willing to lift up his eyes to heaven, but he kept beating his chest saying, “God, let Yourself bring about forgiveness for me, the sinner.” I tell you, this one went down to his house having been declared righteous [by God] and in an ongoing righteous state, rather than that one—because everyone who raises himself up will be humbled [by God], but the one who humbles himself will be raised up [by God].”
In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus has been sparring with the Pharisees quite a bit. First, they criticized Him for healing a man on the Sabbath Day. Then they grumbled about Him receiving sinners, and that led to the parables of the lost sheep, lost coin, and lost sons. Then Jesus had to confront them with their love of money, and He rebuffed their request for signs of the coming kingdom. After all, Jesus Himself is the kingdom and they should have recognized Him when He came. Now, in our Gospel, Jesus confronts the Pharisees with the very disease that infects us all: convincing ourselves that we—in our own efforts, in our own endeavors, in our own egos—are righteous and thus elevating ourselves above the rest of the hoi polloi around us.
It’s really a simple lesson to discern mentally from this parable, but it takes all of our lifetimes to learn it and live it in everyday experience. “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Easy to read; easy to say the words; but very difficult to live.
Notice how the Pharisee exalted himself above the rest of the human race—all other people. Notice how he proudly prayed to God, trying to offer his religious resumé. Notice how he looked down his nose at anyone and everyone who did not measure up to his high standards.
That same urge dwells within our breasts. We can see it on the small scale of the individual. We may not be as bold or brazen as that Pharisee; usually we try to be more subtle about it. We may simply be thankful that we do not suffer as much or as badly as others around us. We may try to comfort ourselves with how long we’ve been blessed to be in Jesus’ Church more than with Jesus’ cross-won grace and mercy in and of itself. We may cling to our own virtue, more than to Jesus, in the face of a world careening off the road of respect and morality. We may even hope that God smiles on us just a bit more for our faithful attendance at church or our faithful giving in the offering. Yes, the same urge of self-exaltation dwells within our individual breasts.
We can also see this on the larger scale of groups or even mobs. One group thinks it is superior to the other, and so the other must assert its own superiority in counter protest. One group with one color of skin views itself as supreme; the other group with a different skin color wants to assert its rights instead. Is not our ongoing problem of racism in our land a sore and sensitive symptom of what infected the Pharisee’s heart…and what infects our hearts? “God, I thank You that I am not like those other people.” That urge dwells within the breast of every human being descended from Adam.
But notice what the tax collector does and prays instead. Let him—yes, the conniving, despised tax collector—be your role model for Christian faith and life. He knows he does not deserve to come into God’s presence. So he stands far off. He knows the urges that dwell within his breast. So he can’t even dare look up to heaven, and he keeps beating his breast repeatedly. With these two actions of humility he recognizes his ego and his sin.
Even more striking is his prayer. He doesn’t just pray the “Kyrie eleison”—Lord, have mercy—as we do in the Divine Service. No, his prayer is much stronger, much more vivid. First of all, he does not merely call himself “a sinner”—as in one among many, in a misery-loves-company sort of way. No, he calls himself “the sinner.” When he compares himself to others, he realizes that he himself is “chief of sinners”; he is the guilty one; he is the worst of them all. And he is the one Jesus commends for telling the truth! May it be so for each of us as well.
The second more vivid thing of the tax collector’s prayer is this: he does not merely pray for a generic sort of mercy; he pleads for God Himself to make and to be the atoning sacrifice for him. “God, let Yourself bring about forgiveness for me, the sinner.” He prays for the very thing that Jesus came to be and to do on the cross. As Hebrews 2:17 says, “Therefore he [Jesus] had to be made like His brothers in every respect, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation—to be the sacrifice and means of forgiveness—for the sins of the people.” This Jesus “is the propitiation—the sacrifice and means of forgiveness—for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world” (1 Jn. 2:2). This is how Jesus Himself declares sinners righteous and keeps them in an ongoing state of being right and righteous before God. May it be so for each of us as well.
The two men in our Gospel teach us the lifetime lesson of living by God’s grace. One prays and lives in prideful non-repentance. That's not the way to live in Jesus’ kingdom. The other man prays and lives by telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…and by throwing himself on the mercy of the heavenly court. These two men also show us the two people who live within each one of us—the “old Adam” and the “new man” of faith. One wants to exert his superiority; the other strives to confess the truth and receive the atoning sacrifice of Jesus.
And the Catechism reminds us how we get to spend our whole lifetimes learning to live on the receiving end of God’s grace in Jesus. Remember what your baptism with water indicates: “It indicates that the Old Adam in us should by daily contrition and repentance be drowned and die with all sins and evil desires, and that a new man should daily emerge and arise to live before God in righteousness and purity forever” (SC IV).
Because of Jesus, because of His atoning sacrifice, and in your Baptism, you get to go down to your house and live all of your life “having been declared righteous [by God] and in an ongoing righteous state.” Amen.
Luke 18:9-14
Listen here.
Two men walk into the temple to pray. No, it’s not the set up line for a joke. It’s Jesus’ way of teaching just how we live all of life as His justified and forgiven people.
First, let me give a rather literal rendition of today’s Gospel, and let’s see what pops out for us to behold:
“He [Jesus] spoke this parable to some who have convinced themselves that they are righteous and [thus] look down on the rest of people: ‘Two men went up into the temple to pray, the one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. Upon standing up the Pharisee prayed these things with reference to himself: “God, I thank You that I am not just like the rest of the human race—those who are greedy, those who do wrong, those who commit adultery, or even like this tax collector [here]. I fast the two required days of the week, I give the exact tithe of everything that I acquire.” But the tax collector, standing far off, was not even willing to lift up his eyes to heaven, but he kept beating his chest saying, “God, let Yourself bring about forgiveness for me, the sinner.” I tell you, this one went down to his house having been declared righteous [by God] and in an ongoing righteous state, rather than that one—because everyone who raises himself up will be humbled [by God], but the one who humbles himself will be raised up [by God].”
In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus has been sparring with the Pharisees quite a bit. First, they criticized Him for healing a man on the Sabbath Day. Then they grumbled about Him receiving sinners, and that led to the parables of the lost sheep, lost coin, and lost sons. Then Jesus had to confront them with their love of money, and He rebuffed their request for signs of the coming kingdom. After all, Jesus Himself is the kingdom and they should have recognized Him when He came. Now, in our Gospel, Jesus confronts the Pharisees with the very disease that infects us all: convincing ourselves that we—in our own efforts, in our own endeavors, in our own egos—are righteous and thus elevating ourselves above the rest of the hoi polloi around us.
It’s really a simple lesson to discern mentally from this parable, but it takes all of our lifetimes to learn it and live it in everyday experience. “Everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.” Easy to read; easy to say the words; but very difficult to live.
Notice how the Pharisee exalted himself above the rest of the human race—all other people. Notice how he proudly prayed to God, trying to offer his religious resumé. Notice how he looked down his nose at anyone and everyone who did not measure up to his high standards.
That same urge dwells within our breasts. We can see it on the small scale of the individual. We may not be as bold or brazen as that Pharisee; usually we try to be more subtle about it. We may simply be thankful that we do not suffer as much or as badly as others around us. We may try to comfort ourselves with how long we’ve been blessed to be in Jesus’ Church more than with Jesus’ cross-won grace and mercy in and of itself. We may cling to our own virtue, more than to Jesus, in the face of a world careening off the road of respect and morality. We may even hope that God smiles on us just a bit more for our faithful attendance at church or our faithful giving in the offering. Yes, the same urge of self-exaltation dwells within our individual breasts.
We can also see this on the larger scale of groups or even mobs. One group thinks it is superior to the other, and so the other must assert its own superiority in counter protest. One group with one color of skin views itself as supreme; the other group with a different skin color wants to assert its rights instead. Is not our ongoing problem of racism in our land a sore and sensitive symptom of what infected the Pharisee’s heart…and what infects our hearts? “God, I thank You that I am not like those other people.” That urge dwells within the breast of every human being descended from Adam.
But notice what the tax collector does and prays instead. Let him—yes, the conniving, despised tax collector—be your role model for Christian faith and life. He knows he does not deserve to come into God’s presence. So he stands far off. He knows the urges that dwell within his breast. So he can’t even dare look up to heaven, and he keeps beating his breast repeatedly. With these two actions of humility he recognizes his ego and his sin.
Even more striking is his prayer. He doesn’t just pray the “Kyrie eleison”—Lord, have mercy—as we do in the Divine Service. No, his prayer is much stronger, much more vivid. First of all, he does not merely call himself “a sinner”—as in one among many, in a misery-loves-company sort of way. No, he calls himself “the sinner.” When he compares himself to others, he realizes that he himself is “chief of sinners”; he is the guilty one; he is the worst of them all. And he is the one Jesus commends for telling the truth! May it be so for each of us as well.
The second more vivid thing of the tax collector’s prayer is this: he does not merely pray for a generic sort of mercy; he pleads for God Himself to make and to be the atoning sacrifice for him. “God, let Yourself bring about forgiveness for me, the sinner.” He prays for the very thing that Jesus came to be and to do on the cross. As Hebrews 2:17 says, “Therefore he [Jesus] had to be made like His brothers in every respect, so that He might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make propitiation—to be the sacrifice and means of forgiveness—for the sins of the people.” This Jesus “is the propitiation—the sacrifice and means of forgiveness—for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world” (1 Jn. 2:2). This is how Jesus Himself declares sinners righteous and keeps them in an ongoing state of being right and righteous before God. May it be so for each of us as well.
The two men in our Gospel teach us the lifetime lesson of living by God’s grace. One prays and lives in prideful non-repentance. That's not the way to live in Jesus’ kingdom. The other man prays and lives by telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth…and by throwing himself on the mercy of the heavenly court. These two men also show us the two people who live within each one of us—the “old Adam” and the “new man” of faith. One wants to exert his superiority; the other strives to confess the truth and receive the atoning sacrifice of Jesus.
And the Catechism reminds us how we get to spend our whole lifetimes learning to live on the receiving end of God’s grace in Jesus. Remember what your baptism with water indicates: “It indicates that the Old Adam in us should by daily contrition and repentance be drowned and die with all sins and evil desires, and that a new man should daily emerge and arise to live before God in righteousness and purity forever” (SC IV).
Because of Jesus, because of His atoning sacrifice, and in your Baptism, you get to go down to your house and live all of your life “having been declared righteous [by God] and in an ongoing righteous state.” Amen.
20 August 2017
Homily for Trinity 10 - 2017
"Why Jesus Weeps"
Luke 19:41-48
Listen here.
Jesus weeps. Almighty God in the flesh cries and sheds tears. A strange combination! “Almighty power” sounds so strong and assertive, even forceful. But “showing mercy and pity” sounds, well, weak and pathetic. Yet Jesus weeps. He weeps with great strength. In fact, His weeping shows the great, almighty power of His loving mercy and pity.
We can almost see the tears flowing down God’s face in our first reading. As God speaks through the prophet Jeremiah, He truly laments the “perpetual backsliding” of His holy people. “They hold fast to deceit; they refuse to return,” God says. He has paid attention to them, but they returned the favor by ignoring Him. As God says, with tears streaming down His loving face, “Everyone turns to his own course, like a horse plunging headlong into battle. Even the stork in the heavens knows her times, and the turtledove, swallow, and crane keep the time of their coming, but my people know not the just decrees of the LORD.” And His “just decrees” are not just His holy Commandments, His divine design for all of life. His “just decrees” also include His message of victory over sin, death, and the devil. They include His message of justice in forgiving our sins. But His tears flow because His own people don’t pay attention. They don’t live in repentance and faith!
And our Lord weeps not just for His people in the pew who may pay little attention to His words of justice in forgiveness; He also weeps for those He calls to proclaim His words. “From the least to the greatest everyone is greedy for unjust gain; from prophet to priest, everyone deals falsely.” Yes, our Lord weeps when His pastors and preachers heal “the wound of [His] people lightly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.” You see, there is no peace—no true and genuine peace—when sins go unconfessed, when tears of repentance refuse to flow. There is no peace when God’s people, both in the pew and in the pulpit, do not cling to His gracious promises in faith.
In our Gospel reading we most certainly see our almighty, powerful God-in-the-flesh weeping with freely flowing tears. “When [Jesus] drew near and saw the city—that is, Jerusalem, His holy city, His beloved city—he wept over it, saying, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!’” Oh, how He wants His people to have Him for their peace! Oh, how He longs to shower them with His mercy and pity! But their rejection of Him, their lack of repentance, and their unbelief—they all forecast certain doom. For Jerusalem that meant an invading Roman army surrounding the city and tearing it down to the ground. Our September 11th was child’s play compared to that. The historian Josephus tells us all about it. He saw the city leveled to the ground. He saw the people who survived the slaughter carried off in chains. Yes, God would orchestrate the destruction of His own “holy city.” Why? “Because [they] did not know the time of [their] visitation.” They did not know that the peace of God—peace almighty and powerful, peace in divine mercy and pity—had come to them all wrapped up in the Person of Jesus of Nazareth.
The people in Jeremiah’s day refused to return to the God who loved them and wept for them. The people in Jesus’ day refused to receive Him, the Son of God, as their peace with God. What about us, the people of God today? Do we turn away from God in a perpetual backsliding? Yep. At least every day, when we think we matter most and God, as well as other people, matter least. Do we not know the time of our gracious visitation? Nope, not all of the time. Think of the times we neglect to thank God for the food on our table, the money in our bank account, the car we drive, the house where we live. Even more, we forget our gracious visitation when our mind wanders during the sermon, or when we come to the Lord’s Table more out of habit than from hungering for our Lord to come and give His peace into our mouths. And what of God’s “just decrees” in teaching us to be content with the spouse, the family, and the goods that we already have? What of God’s “just decrees” that tell us to protect the reputation of others, or to protect their money and possessions? What of His decrees to keep the marriage bed pure, to protect all human life from womb to tomb, and to honor every authority that He has graciously given us? And most importantly, what of His “just decrees” to gladly hear and learn His Word of forgiveness and life, to call upon Him in every trouble, pray, praise, and give thanks, and to fear, love, and trust in Him above all things?
Yes, our Lord weeps. He weeps because He gives Himself so completely to us in mercy and pity, even as He shows us how life works best according to His design. He weeps and says, “Oh, how I long to enjoy life with you now and into eternity! Oh, how I long to shower you with My peace, My promises and My heavenly treasures!” And you know what? That’s exactly what He does to bring you back to Himself—each and every day, especially each and every Lord’s Day.
Thank God that your Lord weeps over a Jerusalem that had gone astray! His weeping shows His almighty, powerful love and mercy. It’s the same love and mercy that led Him to weep over the grave of Lazarus. “Jesus wept” (Jn. 11:35) because of death’s cruel, suffocating tyranny—not just for Lazarus, but also for us and all people. Oh, how He longed to free Lazarus and all people—including us—from the clutches of sin and death! And Jesus would do just that as He hung nailed to the cross, and as He burst forth from the grave. Perhaps we can picture Jesus on the cross with tears flowing freely as He says, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk. 23:34).
Yet our Lord of almighty power would transform that cross of bitter rejection into His greatest tool for showing mercy and pity! And what happened when Jesus burst forth victorious from the grave? His tears did not cease. No, they changed. In His almighty, powerful mercy and pity His tears changed from tears of lament to tears of joy, eternal joy, that is. They are the joyful tears of Him who says to you, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5), both now and on the Last Day. In His death and resurrection, our Lord Jesus makes us new, because “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Cor. 5:17).
So, let the tears of Jesus weeping be your source of comfort, strength, renewal, and hope. He wants you to know the day of your visitation even here today, at His Table. Yes, He comes yet again in His almighty power to visit you and show you His mercy and pity. Just as He entered the Temple to cleanse it of the buyers and sellers, He enters you with His Body and Blood to cleanse you from sin and death. Just as “all the people were hanging on his words,” you can also hang on His words: “Given and shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins.” It’s how He brings you back from your backsliding. It’s how He shows you the things that make for peace—true peace, peace with Him, the peace of His mercy and pity.
Jesus weeps…for you…showing mercy and pity. As we will soon pray at the Table:
Lord, by love and mercy driven,
You once left Your throne in heaven
On the cross for me to languish
And to die in bitter anguish,
To forego all joy and gladness
And to shed Your blood in sadness.
By this blood redeemed and living,
Lord, I praise You with thanksgiving. (LSB 636:7)
Amen.
Luke 19:41-48
Listen here.
Jesus weeps. Almighty God in the flesh cries and sheds tears. A strange combination! “Almighty power” sounds so strong and assertive, even forceful. But “showing mercy and pity” sounds, well, weak and pathetic. Yet Jesus weeps. He weeps with great strength. In fact, His weeping shows the great, almighty power of His loving mercy and pity.
We can almost see the tears flowing down God’s face in our first reading. As God speaks through the prophet Jeremiah, He truly laments the “perpetual backsliding” of His holy people. “They hold fast to deceit; they refuse to return,” God says. He has paid attention to them, but they returned the favor by ignoring Him. As God says, with tears streaming down His loving face, “Everyone turns to his own course, like a horse plunging headlong into battle. Even the stork in the heavens knows her times, and the turtledove, swallow, and crane keep the time of their coming, but my people know not the just decrees of the LORD.” And His “just decrees” are not just His holy Commandments, His divine design for all of life. His “just decrees” also include His message of victory over sin, death, and the devil. They include His message of justice in forgiving our sins. But His tears flow because His own people don’t pay attention. They don’t live in repentance and faith!
And our Lord weeps not just for His people in the pew who may pay little attention to His words of justice in forgiveness; He also weeps for those He calls to proclaim His words. “From the least to the greatest everyone is greedy for unjust gain; from prophet to priest, everyone deals falsely.” Yes, our Lord weeps when His pastors and preachers heal “the wound of [His] people lightly, saying, ‘Peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.” You see, there is no peace—no true and genuine peace—when sins go unconfessed, when tears of repentance refuse to flow. There is no peace when God’s people, both in the pew and in the pulpit, do not cling to His gracious promises in faith.
In our Gospel reading we most certainly see our almighty, powerful God-in-the-flesh weeping with freely flowing tears. “When [Jesus] drew near and saw the city—that is, Jerusalem, His holy city, His beloved city—he wept over it, saying, ‘Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!’” Oh, how He wants His people to have Him for their peace! Oh, how He longs to shower them with His mercy and pity! But their rejection of Him, their lack of repentance, and their unbelief—they all forecast certain doom. For Jerusalem that meant an invading Roman army surrounding the city and tearing it down to the ground. Our September 11th was child’s play compared to that. The historian Josephus tells us all about it. He saw the city leveled to the ground. He saw the people who survived the slaughter carried off in chains. Yes, God would orchestrate the destruction of His own “holy city.” Why? “Because [they] did not know the time of [their] visitation.” They did not know that the peace of God—peace almighty and powerful, peace in divine mercy and pity—had come to them all wrapped up in the Person of Jesus of Nazareth.
The people in Jeremiah’s day refused to return to the God who loved them and wept for them. The people in Jesus’ day refused to receive Him, the Son of God, as their peace with God. What about us, the people of God today? Do we turn away from God in a perpetual backsliding? Yep. At least every day, when we think we matter most and God, as well as other people, matter least. Do we not know the time of our gracious visitation? Nope, not all of the time. Think of the times we neglect to thank God for the food on our table, the money in our bank account, the car we drive, the house where we live. Even more, we forget our gracious visitation when our mind wanders during the sermon, or when we come to the Lord’s Table more out of habit than from hungering for our Lord to come and give His peace into our mouths. And what of God’s “just decrees” in teaching us to be content with the spouse, the family, and the goods that we already have? What of God’s “just decrees” that tell us to protect the reputation of others, or to protect their money and possessions? What of His decrees to keep the marriage bed pure, to protect all human life from womb to tomb, and to honor every authority that He has graciously given us? And most importantly, what of His “just decrees” to gladly hear and learn His Word of forgiveness and life, to call upon Him in every trouble, pray, praise, and give thanks, and to fear, love, and trust in Him above all things?
Yes, our Lord weeps. He weeps because He gives Himself so completely to us in mercy and pity, even as He shows us how life works best according to His design. He weeps and says, “Oh, how I long to enjoy life with you now and into eternity! Oh, how I long to shower you with My peace, My promises and My heavenly treasures!” And you know what? That’s exactly what He does to bring you back to Himself—each and every day, especially each and every Lord’s Day.
Thank God that your Lord weeps over a Jerusalem that had gone astray! His weeping shows His almighty, powerful love and mercy. It’s the same love and mercy that led Him to weep over the grave of Lazarus. “Jesus wept” (Jn. 11:35) because of death’s cruel, suffocating tyranny—not just for Lazarus, but also for us and all people. Oh, how He longed to free Lazarus and all people—including us—from the clutches of sin and death! And Jesus would do just that as He hung nailed to the cross, and as He burst forth from the grave. Perhaps we can picture Jesus on the cross with tears flowing freely as He says, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do” (Lk. 23:34).
Yet our Lord of almighty power would transform that cross of bitter rejection into His greatest tool for showing mercy and pity! And what happened when Jesus burst forth victorious from the grave? His tears did not cease. No, they changed. In His almighty, powerful mercy and pity His tears changed from tears of lament to tears of joy, eternal joy, that is. They are the joyful tears of Him who says to you, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5), both now and on the Last Day. In His death and resurrection, our Lord Jesus makes us new, because “if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Cor. 5:17).
So, let the tears of Jesus weeping be your source of comfort, strength, renewal, and hope. He wants you to know the day of your visitation even here today, at His Table. Yes, He comes yet again in His almighty power to visit you and show you His mercy and pity. Just as He entered the Temple to cleanse it of the buyers and sellers, He enters you with His Body and Blood to cleanse you from sin and death. Just as “all the people were hanging on his words,” you can also hang on His words: “Given and shed for you, for the forgiveness of sins.” It’s how He brings you back from your backsliding. It’s how He shows you the things that make for peace—true peace, peace with Him, the peace of His mercy and pity.
Jesus weeps…for you…showing mercy and pity. As we will soon pray at the Table:
Lord, by love and mercy driven,
You once left Your throne in heaven
On the cross for me to languish
And to die in bitter anguish,
To forego all joy and gladness
And to shed Your blood in sadness.
By this blood redeemed and living,
Lord, I praise You with thanksgiving. (LSB 636:7)
Amen.
15 February 2017
Homily for Septuagesima - 2017
"Reversal of Grace"
Matthew 20:1-16
Listen here.
Jesus sure loves turning things topsy-turvy. He seems to relish turning things on their head and making us squirm. Just consider this parable. A landowner goes out at 6:00 a.m. to hire workers for the day. He contracts with them, and they sign on the dotted line—a full day’s pay for an honest day’s work. Then, at 9:00 a.m., the landowner hires more workers. After all, it’s not good that men should sit idle all day. He promises to pay them “whatever is right.” The landowner goes back to the employment agency again at 12:00 noon, and then again at 3:00 p.m. The grape harvest is going so well, and the landowner is so elated with such a bountiful harvest. He wants it all finished in one day. He goes out again at 5:00 p.m.—one hour before quitting time—to hire yet more workers. So far so good.
Then comes 6:00 p.m.—paycheck time. The landowner instructs his foreman: “Pay them their wages, beginning with the last up to the first,” he says. First, pay those hired last, go in reverse order, and then, at the last, pay those hired first. Okay, not so bad. Everyone still gets their paycheck, whatever the pecking order. But the landowner does not stop there. Now comes the bombshell. Now comes the slight, the offense, the topsy-turvy. He pays all of them the exact same amount! Equal pay for different amounts of work? Now if you were hired at 5:00 p.m., you really like this generous boss, even if he does seem, well, rather reckless with his profits. But! if you were hired first, at 6:00 a.m., and worked all twelve long hours in the scorching sun, you are not happy at all.
“So the last will be first, and the first last.” Jesus loves turning things topsy-turvy.
Jesus uttered this saying once before. Right before our parable, a rich young man came to Jesus and asked Him, “What good deed must I do to have eternal life?” (Matt. 19:16). “Keep the commandments,” Jesus said. Sounded good to this rich young man. “Which ones?” he asked. Jesus said, “Do all those commandments of loving your neighbor.” The rich man said, “Been there, done that. What do I still lack?” Ah, there’s always a catch. If you think you can please God and get to eternal life with your good, upstanding life, there’s bound to be something you’ve overlooked, something you’ve neglected. So Jesus turned things topsy-turvy for this rich young man: “Go, sell all you have, give it to the poor, and follow Me. You’ll have plenty of treasure heaven.” The man went away sad and dejected. It was not a matter of his possessions. It was, rather, a matter of his heart, and where he was placing his trust.
The disciples were flummoxed too. You mean, that’s not how we please God and get into heaven? “Nope,” Jesus said. You, a human being, a mere mortal, a person infected by sin and enslaved by death, cannot save yourself. “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). Peter jumped in on behalf of the twelve: “Lord, we’ve left everything to follow You. What will we get in eternal life?” Still thinking in terms of work and fair pay, putting something in and getting something out. So Jesus said, “Oh, Peter, you’ll get plenty in eternal life—a hundredfold even—but not because you earned it or deserved it. You see, Peter, ‘Many who are first will be last, and the last first’” (Matt. 19:30). Jesus loves to turn things topsy-turvy.
What about you? How do you like it when Jesus turns things topsy-turvy for you? We’re not talking about the topsy-turviness of family strife, or losing a job, or hearing a cancer diagnosis. Sure, those things make us squirm and turn life on its head enough already. We’re not talking about about downturns in the economy or questionable policies by elected leaders that lead to uncertainty or confusion or an erosion of our liberties. Sure, those things make life plenty topsy-turvy. No, what Jesus is focusing on is your life with Him, your life in His kingdom, now and into eternity.
How would you like to be those first workers, hired at 6:00 a.m., having borne the burden and scorching heat of the day, and "merely" get paid what you were promised, what you had agreed to…while all those other lazy bellies got the exact same pay for putting in much less time? How would you like it if Landowner God called you “friend” with that little growl of disapproval and told you just to take your pay and get out? That term for “friend” is not a positive one. In another parable, a king uses it for the guy who snuck into the wedding feast without the proper wedding garment (Matt. 22:12). In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus uses it of Judas, who is about to betray Him (Matt. 26:50). Talk about topsy-turvy!
You and I, if we’re like those workers hired first—and we are—might just turn to grumbling and complaining. “That’s not fair! That’s not right! Why is their hourly wage more than ours?” We might—and do—become just like the Israelites grumbling and quarreling in the wilderness. “Where’s our water? Where’s our food? Where’s what we have a right to have?” You and I—since by nature we are like those first workers and those Israelites—might and do put God Himself into our handy-dandy Excel spreadsheet of spirituality and find Him coming up short. In our spiritual bean-counting, God Himself just doesn’t seem to offer a balanced budget for His eternal kingdom. After all, doesn’t it mean something that we’ve been Christian for however many years? Doesn’t it count that we’re here, in His house, however many Sundays out of the year, or put X amount of dollars in the weekly offering? See how much I’ve been serving you, Lord? See how dedicated I’ve been? See how much I read Your Word and pray and help other people and…?
This is why Jesus loves to turn things topsy-turvy. We need Him to. We need to have our spiritual bean-counting turned on its head and we need to squirm in our self-centered spiritual bookkeeping. We need Jesus’ reversal of grace. You see, God’s kingdom of heaven reaches into our earthly life and works solely by grace, solely by the generosity of Landowner God and His foreman Jesus. It’s Jesus Himself—the eternal Son of God, the eternal foreman of our salvation—who doles out all the gracious rewards that come to us in God’s vineyard. After all, He is “the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2). Topsy-turvy, yes. It’s the reversal of God’s grace.
But do not let this bountiful grace of Landowner God and Foreman Jesus lull you into a false sense of idleness. Life in God’s vineyard—His Church—does involve work. No, not work in order to “get the job,” so to speak. You’re already in God’s vineyard, completely and solely by His gracious work—sola gratia. And, as we see in the parable, our divine Landowner is very generous with His rewards at the end of the day on the Last Day. But now that you’re in, it’s time to get to work.
What is that work to which you and I are called? Using himself as our example, St. Paul calls us to exercise self-control like an athlete. He exhorts us not to run aimlessly and not to box as someone merely beating the air. In the spirit of St. Paul, we are to discipline our bodies and keep them under control.
The work we are given to do in the vineyard of Landowner God is the work of confessing our sins and learning to live at the receiving end of His bountiful grace and mercy. It’s the work of rooting out the pride that leads us to cry “Unfair!” or to think we deserve more and better than what our Landowner God already gives. It’s the work of taking our eyes off of ourselves and fixing them squarely on Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, and the eternal reward He has labored to win for us and give to us. It’s the work of learning His Word and learning to rely on His promises. It’s the work of taking the time to pray, gathering around His Word with our fellow workers, and faithfully receiving His Body and His Blood for our refreshment and strength. It’s the work of having our whole life, even our whole self, turned topsy-turvy by Jesus’ reversal of grace.
You see, when Jesus turns you and me topsy-turvy by His bountiful grace and and lavish forgiveness, He actually sets everything right-side-up with Landowner God, both now and into eternity. Amen.
Matthew 20:1-16
Listen here.
Jesus sure loves turning things topsy-turvy. He seems to relish turning things on their head and making us squirm. Just consider this parable. A landowner goes out at 6:00 a.m. to hire workers for the day. He contracts with them, and they sign on the dotted line—a full day’s pay for an honest day’s work. Then, at 9:00 a.m., the landowner hires more workers. After all, it’s not good that men should sit idle all day. He promises to pay them “whatever is right.” The landowner goes back to the employment agency again at 12:00 noon, and then again at 3:00 p.m. The grape harvest is going so well, and the landowner is so elated with such a bountiful harvest. He wants it all finished in one day. He goes out again at 5:00 p.m.—one hour before quitting time—to hire yet more workers. So far so good.
Then comes 6:00 p.m.—paycheck time. The landowner instructs his foreman: “Pay them their wages, beginning with the last up to the first,” he says. First, pay those hired last, go in reverse order, and then, at the last, pay those hired first. Okay, not so bad. Everyone still gets their paycheck, whatever the pecking order. But the landowner does not stop there. Now comes the bombshell. Now comes the slight, the offense, the topsy-turvy. He pays all of them the exact same amount! Equal pay for different amounts of work? Now if you were hired at 5:00 p.m., you really like this generous boss, even if he does seem, well, rather reckless with his profits. But! if you were hired first, at 6:00 a.m., and worked all twelve long hours in the scorching sun, you are not happy at all.
“So the last will be first, and the first last.” Jesus loves turning things topsy-turvy.
Jesus uttered this saying once before. Right before our parable, a rich young man came to Jesus and asked Him, “What good deed must I do to have eternal life?” (Matt. 19:16). “Keep the commandments,” Jesus said. Sounded good to this rich young man. “Which ones?” he asked. Jesus said, “Do all those commandments of loving your neighbor.” The rich man said, “Been there, done that. What do I still lack?” Ah, there’s always a catch. If you think you can please God and get to eternal life with your good, upstanding life, there’s bound to be something you’ve overlooked, something you’ve neglected. So Jesus turned things topsy-turvy for this rich young man: “Go, sell all you have, give it to the poor, and follow Me. You’ll have plenty of treasure heaven.” The man went away sad and dejected. It was not a matter of his possessions. It was, rather, a matter of his heart, and where he was placing his trust.
The disciples were flummoxed too. You mean, that’s not how we please God and get into heaven? “Nope,” Jesus said. You, a human being, a mere mortal, a person infected by sin and enslaved by death, cannot save yourself. “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matt. 19:26). Peter jumped in on behalf of the twelve: “Lord, we’ve left everything to follow You. What will we get in eternal life?” Still thinking in terms of work and fair pay, putting something in and getting something out. So Jesus said, “Oh, Peter, you’ll get plenty in eternal life—a hundredfold even—but not because you earned it or deserved it. You see, Peter, ‘Many who are first will be last, and the last first’” (Matt. 19:30). Jesus loves to turn things topsy-turvy.
What about you? How do you like it when Jesus turns things topsy-turvy for you? We’re not talking about the topsy-turviness of family strife, or losing a job, or hearing a cancer diagnosis. Sure, those things make us squirm and turn life on its head enough already. We’re not talking about about downturns in the economy or questionable policies by elected leaders that lead to uncertainty or confusion or an erosion of our liberties. Sure, those things make life plenty topsy-turvy. No, what Jesus is focusing on is your life with Him, your life in His kingdom, now and into eternity.
How would you like to be those first workers, hired at 6:00 a.m., having borne the burden and scorching heat of the day, and "merely" get paid what you were promised, what you had agreed to…while all those other lazy bellies got the exact same pay for putting in much less time? How would you like it if Landowner God called you “friend” with that little growl of disapproval and told you just to take your pay and get out? That term for “friend” is not a positive one. In another parable, a king uses it for the guy who snuck into the wedding feast without the proper wedding garment (Matt. 22:12). In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus uses it of Judas, who is about to betray Him (Matt. 26:50). Talk about topsy-turvy!
You and I, if we’re like those workers hired first—and we are—might just turn to grumbling and complaining. “That’s not fair! That’s not right! Why is their hourly wage more than ours?” We might—and do—become just like the Israelites grumbling and quarreling in the wilderness. “Where’s our water? Where’s our food? Where’s what we have a right to have?” You and I—since by nature we are like those first workers and those Israelites—might and do put God Himself into our handy-dandy Excel spreadsheet of spirituality and find Him coming up short. In our spiritual bean-counting, God Himself just doesn’t seem to offer a balanced budget for His eternal kingdom. After all, doesn’t it mean something that we’ve been Christian for however many years? Doesn’t it count that we’re here, in His house, however many Sundays out of the year, or put X amount of dollars in the weekly offering? See how much I’ve been serving you, Lord? See how dedicated I’ve been? See how much I read Your Word and pray and help other people and…?
This is why Jesus loves to turn things topsy-turvy. We need Him to. We need to have our spiritual bean-counting turned on its head and we need to squirm in our self-centered spiritual bookkeeping. We need Jesus’ reversal of grace. You see, God’s kingdom of heaven reaches into our earthly life and works solely by grace, solely by the generosity of Landowner God and His foreman Jesus. It’s Jesus Himself—the eternal Son of God, the eternal foreman of our salvation—who doles out all the gracious rewards that come to us in God’s vineyard. After all, He is “the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2). Topsy-turvy, yes. It’s the reversal of God’s grace.
But do not let this bountiful grace of Landowner God and Foreman Jesus lull you into a false sense of idleness. Life in God’s vineyard—His Church—does involve work. No, not work in order to “get the job,” so to speak. You’re already in God’s vineyard, completely and solely by His gracious work—sola gratia. And, as we see in the parable, our divine Landowner is very generous with His rewards at the end of the day on the Last Day. But now that you’re in, it’s time to get to work.
What is that work to which you and I are called? Using himself as our example, St. Paul calls us to exercise self-control like an athlete. He exhorts us not to run aimlessly and not to box as someone merely beating the air. In the spirit of St. Paul, we are to discipline our bodies and keep them under control.
The work we are given to do in the vineyard of Landowner God is the work of confessing our sins and learning to live at the receiving end of His bountiful grace and mercy. It’s the work of rooting out the pride that leads us to cry “Unfair!” or to think we deserve more and better than what our Landowner God already gives. It’s the work of taking our eyes off of ourselves and fixing them squarely on Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, and the eternal reward He has labored to win for us and give to us. It’s the work of learning His Word and learning to rely on His promises. It’s the work of taking the time to pray, gathering around His Word with our fellow workers, and faithfully receiving His Body and His Blood for our refreshment and strength. It’s the work of having our whole life, even our whole self, turned topsy-turvy by Jesus’ reversal of grace.
You see, when Jesus turns you and me topsy-turvy by His bountiful grace and and lavish forgiveness, He actually sets everything right-side-up with Landowner God, both now and into eternity. Amen.
01 June 2016
Homily for Trinity 1
"Created for Your Neighbor"
Luke 16:19-31
Listen here.
We have just finished the festival half of the Church year. In Advent we eagerly awaited the coming Christ. At Christmas we celebrated God taking on our human flesh. Epiphany gave us the God-Man Jesus revealing Himself to the world in word and deed. Then came Lent and preparing to go to the cross with our Lord. In the festive season of Easter we celebrated Jesus’ resurrection and His glorious gift of life. Two weeks ago we celebrated Pentecost and the Holy Spirit working the miracle of preaching and hearing the Gospel. Last week, of course, we celebrated the mystery of the Holy Trinity.
Now we shift gears from focusing on the life of Christ to focusing on the life of the Church. The green on the altar reminds us of life, the holy life, the life that Christ lives out through His holy Church. The life of the Church, and of every Christian, goes in two directions. We often pray it after we receive the Lord’s Supper. We pray that the Lord would use His Body and Blood to strengthen us “in faith toward [Him] and in fervent love toward one another.” First, trust in God; second, love toward neighbor. Put them together and we see how we are created for our neighbor.
Jesus tells a story to the Pharisees. They were “lovers of money.” In His story, Jesus says there was a certain rich man. To put him in modern terms, rich man wore $1000 suits with bright, fancy ties. He lived in a luxurious mansion, complete with a big screen TV, Blue-ray DVD player, the newest computers, the latest WiFi-operated appliances, and the best sound system. He ate only the best foods: steak, lobster, caviar, etc. But there was also a beggar named Lazarus. He was homeless, just lived on the streets. He was always looking for a handout. So sad…and so annoying! And his skin! Those rashes! Those sores! He really should see a dermatologist. The rich man knew about Lazarus. He saw him walking past the house everyday. As the rich man sat in the comfort of his leather recliner, he thought, “It really is a shame how some people have such bad luck in life.” And off went Lazarus, walking down the street.
Was it a sin for the rich man to be rich? No. Was it a sin for the rich man to hoard his wealth and ignore the need of Lazarus? Yes. Is it a sin for you to have money and own possessions? No. God is the Giver of those good gifts too. Is it a sin for you to hang on to your money and possessions, guarding them and using them only for yourself? Yes. You see God gives you money and possessions for a purpose: not only to provide for your self, but also to love your neighbor. God gives you money and possessions so that you can turn and use them to help and serve your neighbor.
The real problem is not the money. The real problem is not trusting God. Yes, Jesus must preach this sermon to us—the holy Church, people redeemed by His blood. No, you and I don’t fully trust God to supply our need. No, you and I don’t trust God to take care of us day by day. That’s why we scrimp and hoard. That’s why we rely on ourselves. That’s why we always want more and more and more. We do it in our families; we do it in the church. All the while God is watching and saying, “Hey, I gave you that money and stuff so that you could serve your neighbor, not yourselves!”
Lazarus and the rich man both died, and each of them went to their eternal reward. Beggar Lazarus went to heaven. Nameless rich man, who had the good life, went to hell. And in the midst of his torment, the rich man was still blind to his sin. “Hey, Abraham,” he called, “send Lazarus over here to serve me with a couple drops of cold water.” During earthly life, rich man paid no attention to Lazarus. In everlasting torment, rich man thought Lazarus should serve him as a slave.
Sometimes we talk of needing more giving in the congregation. And it’s true: we all could stand to be more generous in the offering and thus promote the Gospel of our Lord Jesus. But we often think and speak in these terms: “Let’s get those other people giving more.” That’s the same selfish thing the rich man said in his hell. “We seem to have a problem. Let’s get other people to solve it for us.” And do you know what God says to that? “Baloney!” He says, “I always give you what you need--even more than you need. You simply don’t trust Me or look to Me.” Do you want to know how to increase giving? It’s simple: Give! To everyone who says, “We need more giving,” the solution is simple: take out your wallet and give.” Don’t expect other people to do it for you. Set the example. Generosity leads to more generosity. Giving leads to more giving.
That’s the way God works. That’s the way God wants His Church to work. Giving leads to more giving. Generosity leads to more generosity. God gives you money and possessions so that you will turn and use them to help and serve your neighbor. And who is your neighbor? Take a hint from the parable. The rich man’s neighbor was right at his gate—right under his nose. In the same way, your neighbor is right under your nose. Your neighbor eats at the dinner table with you, attends worship with you, and works on the job with you. You don’t have to go searching for a neighbor. God is so good and gracious to you that He has already given you neighbors, the people with whom you live, worship, work, and play. You are created for them, not them for you.
This is how God has worked to save you. Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ came into the world for one purpose: to save you by dying for you—to lay down His life for you, His neighbor. He gave up the privileges of being God and took on human flesh. He gave up His own precious life to serve you. What marvelous generosity! As St. John says: “By this we know love, that He laid down His life for us” (1 Jn. 3:16). St. Paul says the same thing: “You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you by His poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9).
St. Paul is not talking about money or economics when He says that Jesus was rich and became poor. Jesus became poor—became a beggar—by taking our sin into His own body. As Jesus hung on the cross, God looked at Him and said, “You are the poorest, most beggarly sinner. You must die.” So, Jesus died and went through the torment and agony of hell to save us. You see, Jesus had to go there, because that’s where we were. And we deserved to be there, in the same place as the rich man in the story. But Jesus bridged the gulf, the grand canyon, between us and God. When Jesus rose from the dead, He brought us with Him from death into life. Now, we belong in Abraham’s bosom—right along side beggar Lazarus.
So, living the Christian life means learning to look at ourselves as beggars. That’s what we are. We have no claim on God, yet He loves to call us His children and His Church. We don’t deserve anything that God gives us, yet He still takes care of our needs. He lets us keep breathing every night while we sleep. He lets the sun come up in the morning to waken us and give us light. He lets us eat food every day. And we don’t deserve any of this. God is truly rich in mercy. Trusting Christ means learning to see ourselves as beggars who rely only on God. We keep sinning, but Jesus keeps forgiving us. We still fall into trusting ourselves rather than God, but Christ overcomes that sin too. He has already suffered torment for it and killed it.
When we come to the Lord’s Table, we come as beggars. Our mouths and our hands are open and empty. But be comforted. Jesus fills our mouths and hands with His own Body and Blood. In this Supper God teaches us to be beggars. He teaches us to trust Him and love our neighbor. When we receive Jesus’ Supper, we trust the forgiveness that He gives us in His Body and Blood. When we receive the Supper, we are also learning to love our fellow beggars as we eat and drink with them. We are beggars, and we need the Lord to feed us with His Body and Blood for forgiveness, life, and salvation.
When I say that we are beggars, I am not insulting you. Instead, I’m complimenting you. After all, you and I are free beggars. As we rely on God in Christ for every little thing, we are free to serve our neighbor. You see, beggars have nothing to hold onto, nothing to hoard. And what little they do receive, they always use it to help and serve their fellow beggars. Beggars are created for their neighbor. Amen.
Luke 16:19-31
Listen here.
We have just finished the festival half of the Church year. In Advent we eagerly awaited the coming Christ. At Christmas we celebrated God taking on our human flesh. Epiphany gave us the God-Man Jesus revealing Himself to the world in word and deed. Then came Lent and preparing to go to the cross with our Lord. In the festive season of Easter we celebrated Jesus’ resurrection and His glorious gift of life. Two weeks ago we celebrated Pentecost and the Holy Spirit working the miracle of preaching and hearing the Gospel. Last week, of course, we celebrated the mystery of the Holy Trinity.
Now we shift gears from focusing on the life of Christ to focusing on the life of the Church. The green on the altar reminds us of life, the holy life, the life that Christ lives out through His holy Church. The life of the Church, and of every Christian, goes in two directions. We often pray it after we receive the Lord’s Supper. We pray that the Lord would use His Body and Blood to strengthen us “in faith toward [Him] and in fervent love toward one another.” First, trust in God; second, love toward neighbor. Put them together and we see how we are created for our neighbor.
Jesus tells a story to the Pharisees. They were “lovers of money.” In His story, Jesus says there was a certain rich man. To put him in modern terms, rich man wore $1000 suits with bright, fancy ties. He lived in a luxurious mansion, complete with a big screen TV, Blue-ray DVD player, the newest computers, the latest WiFi-operated appliances, and the best sound system. He ate only the best foods: steak, lobster, caviar, etc. But there was also a beggar named Lazarus. He was homeless, just lived on the streets. He was always looking for a handout. So sad…and so annoying! And his skin! Those rashes! Those sores! He really should see a dermatologist. The rich man knew about Lazarus. He saw him walking past the house everyday. As the rich man sat in the comfort of his leather recliner, he thought, “It really is a shame how some people have such bad luck in life.” And off went Lazarus, walking down the street.
Was it a sin for the rich man to be rich? No. Was it a sin for the rich man to hoard his wealth and ignore the need of Lazarus? Yes. Is it a sin for you to have money and own possessions? No. God is the Giver of those good gifts too. Is it a sin for you to hang on to your money and possessions, guarding them and using them only for yourself? Yes. You see God gives you money and possessions for a purpose: not only to provide for your self, but also to love your neighbor. God gives you money and possessions so that you can turn and use them to help and serve your neighbor.
The real problem is not the money. The real problem is not trusting God. Yes, Jesus must preach this sermon to us—the holy Church, people redeemed by His blood. No, you and I don’t fully trust God to supply our need. No, you and I don’t trust God to take care of us day by day. That’s why we scrimp and hoard. That’s why we rely on ourselves. That’s why we always want more and more and more. We do it in our families; we do it in the church. All the while God is watching and saying, “Hey, I gave you that money and stuff so that you could serve your neighbor, not yourselves!”
Lazarus and the rich man both died, and each of them went to their eternal reward. Beggar Lazarus went to heaven. Nameless rich man, who had the good life, went to hell. And in the midst of his torment, the rich man was still blind to his sin. “Hey, Abraham,” he called, “send Lazarus over here to serve me with a couple drops of cold water.” During earthly life, rich man paid no attention to Lazarus. In everlasting torment, rich man thought Lazarus should serve him as a slave.
Sometimes we talk of needing more giving in the congregation. And it’s true: we all could stand to be more generous in the offering and thus promote the Gospel of our Lord Jesus. But we often think and speak in these terms: “Let’s get those other people giving more.” That’s the same selfish thing the rich man said in his hell. “We seem to have a problem. Let’s get other people to solve it for us.” And do you know what God says to that? “Baloney!” He says, “I always give you what you need--even more than you need. You simply don’t trust Me or look to Me.” Do you want to know how to increase giving? It’s simple: Give! To everyone who says, “We need more giving,” the solution is simple: take out your wallet and give.” Don’t expect other people to do it for you. Set the example. Generosity leads to more generosity. Giving leads to more giving.
That’s the way God works. That’s the way God wants His Church to work. Giving leads to more giving. Generosity leads to more generosity. God gives you money and possessions so that you will turn and use them to help and serve your neighbor. And who is your neighbor? Take a hint from the parable. The rich man’s neighbor was right at his gate—right under his nose. In the same way, your neighbor is right under your nose. Your neighbor eats at the dinner table with you, attends worship with you, and works on the job with you. You don’t have to go searching for a neighbor. God is so good and gracious to you that He has already given you neighbors, the people with whom you live, worship, work, and play. You are created for them, not them for you.
This is how God has worked to save you. Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ came into the world for one purpose: to save you by dying for you—to lay down His life for you, His neighbor. He gave up the privileges of being God and took on human flesh. He gave up His own precious life to serve you. What marvelous generosity! As St. John says: “By this we know love, that He laid down His life for us” (1 Jn. 3:16). St. Paul says the same thing: “You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though He was rich, yet for your sake He became poor, so that you by His poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9).
St. Paul is not talking about money or economics when He says that Jesus was rich and became poor. Jesus became poor—became a beggar—by taking our sin into His own body. As Jesus hung on the cross, God looked at Him and said, “You are the poorest, most beggarly sinner. You must die.” So, Jesus died and went through the torment and agony of hell to save us. You see, Jesus had to go there, because that’s where we were. And we deserved to be there, in the same place as the rich man in the story. But Jesus bridged the gulf, the grand canyon, between us and God. When Jesus rose from the dead, He brought us with Him from death into life. Now, we belong in Abraham’s bosom—right along side beggar Lazarus.
So, living the Christian life means learning to look at ourselves as beggars. That’s what we are. We have no claim on God, yet He loves to call us His children and His Church. We don’t deserve anything that God gives us, yet He still takes care of our needs. He lets us keep breathing every night while we sleep. He lets the sun come up in the morning to waken us and give us light. He lets us eat food every day. And we don’t deserve any of this. God is truly rich in mercy. Trusting Christ means learning to see ourselves as beggars who rely only on God. We keep sinning, but Jesus keeps forgiving us. We still fall into trusting ourselves rather than God, but Christ overcomes that sin too. He has already suffered torment for it and killed it.
When we come to the Lord’s Table, we come as beggars. Our mouths and our hands are open and empty. But be comforted. Jesus fills our mouths and hands with His own Body and Blood. In this Supper God teaches us to be beggars. He teaches us to trust Him and love our neighbor. When we receive Jesus’ Supper, we trust the forgiveness that He gives us in His Body and Blood. When we receive the Supper, we are also learning to love our fellow beggars as we eat and drink with them. We are beggars, and we need the Lord to feed us with His Body and Blood for forgiveness, life, and salvation.
When I say that we are beggars, I am not insulting you. Instead, I’m complimenting you. After all, you and I are free beggars. As we rely on God in Christ for every little thing, we are free to serve our neighbor. You see, beggars have nothing to hold onto, nothing to hoard. And what little they do receive, they always use it to help and serve their fellow beggars. Beggars are created for their neighbor. Amen.
03 April 2015
Homily for Holy Thursday
Washed and Fed to Love
John 13:1-15, 34-35
A new commandment I give to you, Jesus said, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. (Jn. 13:34). That’s were we get one name for today—“Maundy Thursday”—from mandatum, meaning “command.” We also call it “Holy Thursday” because this is Thursday of “Holy Week.” Whatever the name, the theme is the same: Love.
But how was Jesus’ bickering band of disciples supposed to love each other? How are we? This group of men who argued over the seats of honor in Jesus’ kingdom—how were they supposed to love one another? How are we? Didn’t the Law already command us to love our neighbor as ourselves? So what’s new about this “new commandment”?
Jesus ties His mandate to love one another with the Supper He gives us. Jesus’ words to love one another also go hand in hand with His servant act of washing His disciples’ feet. And it all happened in the Upper Room: foot washing, Lord’s Supper, and Jesus’ new command. It all happened on the night when He was betrayed into death. So it goes for our love for one another. As Jesus’ holy people, we can only love one another as we are connected to Jesus—to His Body and Blood, by His Cross and in His Supper.
John’s Gospel doesn’t give us the Institution of the Lord’s Supper. For that we look to Matthew, Mark, Luke and St. Paul. But St. John is still catechizing us. The Lord’s Supper is woven into the background. Since we know and have the Lord’s Supper, St. John is expanding our horizons on what it means to cling to Jesus’ love and actually to love one another.
The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus turns Old Testament washing water into New Testament wine at the wedding of Cana. The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus feeds the five thousand and proclaims Himself the very Bread of life. “For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink,” He said. “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood abides in me, and I in him.” (Jn. 6:55-56) The Lord’s Supper is in the background of the whole sermon Jesus preaches in the Upper Room on this night of His betrayal. “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.” (Jn. 15:5)
Baptism and Lord’s Supper go hand in hand in John. They are just as close as the foot washing and the Supper in the Upper Room the night before He was crucified. They are bound together just as the water and the blood that flowed from Jesus’ pierced side at His crucifixion.
Jesus knew what lay ahead of Him that night. He knew one of His own disciples would betray Him. He knew that all things were given to Him by His Father, that He had come from God, that He was going to God. He knew that the time of His Passover was near—the time when His blood would paint the wood of the cross so that death might pass over.
So, knowing all this, Jesus rose from the table, laid aside His outer garments, tied a towel around His waist and poured a basin full of water. He knelt down. He began to wash His disciples' feet. Then He dried them with the towel He was wearing. Jesus did what no Hebrew slave was ever asked to do—wash feet.
Now foot washing was a crucial part of social etiquette in Jesus’ culture. It was something like our moms saying, “Don’t forget to wash your hands before supper.” They did that, but they also washed their feet. Remember, Jesus and His disciples reclined on pillows at a low table, instead of sitting in chairs as we do. That put your neighbor’s feet very close to your face, and vice versa. Thus, foot washing!
And yet foot washing was one of the lowest and most menial tasks. Only the lowest rank of slave would do it. But here in the Upper Room, the Lord of heaven and earth, the Incarnate Word through whom all things where made, sets aside His own garments and wears the lowly towel of the humblest slave. What extreme humility! The One called Teacher and Lord washes the feet of His disciples!
But Peter objected. “You shall never wash my feet!” Peter is too proud to have Jesus bend down and wash his feet. That same sort of pride keeps us from Baptism, Absolution, Lord’s Supper, and the Gospel preached. It also keeps us from bending down to wash the feet of brothers and sisters in our midst. Surely Jesus is more glorious than a bath, a spoken word of forgiveness, and a bit of bread and wine! Surely washing feet is not a proper use of our great spiritual gifts! Isn’t the real Jesus more glorious, more “spiritual,” than some crucified foot-washer? But that’s not faith; that’s unbelief. “If I do not wash you,” Jesus says, “you have no share with Me.”
So we too must be washed by Jesus, bathed as little children, baptized into His death and resurrection. We cannot wash ourselves. We wouldn’t even if we could. Like little children who play in the mud, we rather enjoy the filth of our sin. We’ve grown accustomed to it. But we cannot come to the table with dirty feet. So Jesus bends down to us in His humbled, crucified humanity to wash us. He reaches down to the dirtiest and most deeply soiled places in our lives, down to the soles of our feet, where we touch the earth from which were made, the dirt to which we return in death. He reaches down to the place where the dirt of our earthly life is ground in and stubborn. And washed by Jesus, baptized into His death, we are cleansed from head to toe.
Jesus’ washing drowns our stubborn pride—the ego of our old Adam. It frees us from the bondage of our pride to serve others in the humility of Christ. “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.” Jesus shows us the posture of the disciple before the world: stooped down as a servant with towel and basin, washing filthy feet. To be a disciple of the Lord Jesus means having your feet washed by Jesus so that you may, in turn, wash the feet of others. It means being loved by a humbled and crucified Christ so that you may be humbled and crucified to love one another, in Him.
And washed by Jesus, you are clean, ready for Supper. You can recline and relax at His table. You can let your defenses down. At His Table, Jesus is host and servant and main course, all at the same time. He gives His precious Body to eat and His Passover Blood to drink. And as fruitful branches are to the vine, so you are to Jesus at His Table. He is the true Vine; you are the branches. You are grafted into Jesus through faith; you receive His life into you. Apart from Him you can do nothing. “Take eat. Drink of it all of you.” His life flows from the cross to the chalice and into your mouths. And His life in you bears fruit. His love for you overflows to your neighbor.
It’s in this context that Jesus gives His “new mandate.” He says, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” What’s “new” with this commandment? It’s not the love. “Love your neighbor as yourself” is the old commandment from Moses. What’s new is Jesus’ washing and feeding—His Baptism and His Supper of Body and Blood. These are Jesus’ “mandates” for you. This is how you learn to love one another.
Jesus’ new mandate to His disciples is to receive His love in all the ways He wants to give it. Jesus’ new mandate means being loved by Him so that His love flows through you to one another. His love is poured out for you in His death and poured into you in His Baptism and His Supper. His love bears fruit as it has its way with you. It leads you to bend down, wash each other’s feet, serve each other, and live for each other’s benefit.
As we learn to be filled with Jesus’ self-giving love, His love flows through us to each other. As we sang earlier:
“Jesus gave to His disciples
A commandment that was new:
‘Show My love to one another,
Do as I have done for you;
All the world will know you love Me
As you love each other too.” (LSB, 446:5)
Amen.
John 13:1-15, 34-35
A new commandment I give to you, Jesus said, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. (Jn. 13:34). That’s were we get one name for today—“Maundy Thursday”—from mandatum, meaning “command.” We also call it “Holy Thursday” because this is Thursday of “Holy Week.” Whatever the name, the theme is the same: Love.But how was Jesus’ bickering band of disciples supposed to love each other? How are we? This group of men who argued over the seats of honor in Jesus’ kingdom—how were they supposed to love one another? How are we? Didn’t the Law already command us to love our neighbor as ourselves? So what’s new about this “new commandment”?
Jesus ties His mandate to love one another with the Supper He gives us. Jesus’ words to love one another also go hand in hand with His servant act of washing His disciples’ feet. And it all happened in the Upper Room: foot washing, Lord’s Supper, and Jesus’ new command. It all happened on the night when He was betrayed into death. So it goes for our love for one another. As Jesus’ holy people, we can only love one another as we are connected to Jesus—to His Body and Blood, by His Cross and in His Supper.
John’s Gospel doesn’t give us the Institution of the Lord’s Supper. For that we look to Matthew, Mark, Luke and St. Paul. But St. John is still catechizing us. The Lord’s Supper is woven into the background. Since we know and have the Lord’s Supper, St. John is expanding our horizons on what it means to cling to Jesus’ love and actually to love one another.
The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus turns Old Testament washing water into New Testament wine at the wedding of Cana. The Lord’s Supper is in the background when Jesus feeds the five thousand and proclaims Himself the very Bread of life. “For My flesh is true food, and My blood is true drink,” He said. “Whoever feeds on My flesh and drinks My blood abides in me, and I in him.” (Jn. 6:55-56) The Lord’s Supper is in the background of the whole sermon Jesus preaches in the Upper Room on this night of His betrayal. “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in Me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.” (Jn. 15:5)
Baptism and Lord’s Supper go hand in hand in John. They are just as close as the foot washing and the Supper in the Upper Room the night before He was crucified. They are bound together just as the water and the blood that flowed from Jesus’ pierced side at His crucifixion.
Jesus knew what lay ahead of Him that night. He knew one of His own disciples would betray Him. He knew that all things were given to Him by His Father, that He had come from God, that He was going to God. He knew that the time of His Passover was near—the time when His blood would paint the wood of the cross so that death might pass over.
So, knowing all this, Jesus rose from the table, laid aside His outer garments, tied a towel around His waist and poured a basin full of water. He knelt down. He began to wash His disciples' feet. Then He dried them with the towel He was wearing. Jesus did what no Hebrew slave was ever asked to do—wash feet.
Now foot washing was a crucial part of social etiquette in Jesus’ culture. It was something like our moms saying, “Don’t forget to wash your hands before supper.” They did that, but they also washed their feet. Remember, Jesus and His disciples reclined on pillows at a low table, instead of sitting in chairs as we do. That put your neighbor’s feet very close to your face, and vice versa. Thus, foot washing!
And yet foot washing was one of the lowest and most menial tasks. Only the lowest rank of slave would do it. But here in the Upper Room, the Lord of heaven and earth, the Incarnate Word through whom all things where made, sets aside His own garments and wears the lowly towel of the humblest slave. What extreme humility! The One called Teacher and Lord washes the feet of His disciples!
But Peter objected. “You shall never wash my feet!” Peter is too proud to have Jesus bend down and wash his feet. That same sort of pride keeps us from Baptism, Absolution, Lord’s Supper, and the Gospel preached. It also keeps us from bending down to wash the feet of brothers and sisters in our midst. Surely Jesus is more glorious than a bath, a spoken word of forgiveness, and a bit of bread and wine! Surely washing feet is not a proper use of our great spiritual gifts! Isn’t the real Jesus more glorious, more “spiritual,” than some crucified foot-washer? But that’s not faith; that’s unbelief. “If I do not wash you,” Jesus says, “you have no share with Me.”
So we too must be washed by Jesus, bathed as little children, baptized into His death and resurrection. We cannot wash ourselves. We wouldn’t even if we could. Like little children who play in the mud, we rather enjoy the filth of our sin. We’ve grown accustomed to it. But we cannot come to the table with dirty feet. So Jesus bends down to us in His humbled, crucified humanity to wash us. He reaches down to the dirtiest and most deeply soiled places in our lives, down to the soles of our feet, where we touch the earth from which were made, the dirt to which we return in death. He reaches down to the place where the dirt of our earthly life is ground in and stubborn. And washed by Jesus, baptized into His death, we are cleansed from head to toe.
Jesus’ washing drowns our stubborn pride—the ego of our old Adam. It frees us from the bondage of our pride to serve others in the humility of Christ. “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.” Jesus shows us the posture of the disciple before the world: stooped down as a servant with towel and basin, washing filthy feet. To be a disciple of the Lord Jesus means having your feet washed by Jesus so that you may, in turn, wash the feet of others. It means being loved by a humbled and crucified Christ so that you may be humbled and crucified to love one another, in Him.
And washed by Jesus, you are clean, ready for Supper. You can recline and relax at His table. You can let your defenses down. At His Table, Jesus is host and servant and main course, all at the same time. He gives His precious Body to eat and His Passover Blood to drink. And as fruitful branches are to the vine, so you are to Jesus at His Table. He is the true Vine; you are the branches. You are grafted into Jesus through faith; you receive His life into you. Apart from Him you can do nothing. “Take eat. Drink of it all of you.” His life flows from the cross to the chalice and into your mouths. And His life in you bears fruit. His love for you overflows to your neighbor.It’s in this context that Jesus gives His “new mandate.” He says, “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” What’s “new” with this commandment? It’s not the love. “Love your neighbor as yourself” is the old commandment from Moses. What’s new is Jesus’ washing and feeding—His Baptism and His Supper of Body and Blood. These are Jesus’ “mandates” for you. This is how you learn to love one another.
Jesus’ new mandate to His disciples is to receive His love in all the ways He wants to give it. Jesus’ new mandate means being loved by Him so that His love flows through you to one another. His love is poured out for you in His death and poured into you in His Baptism and His Supper. His love bears fruit as it has its way with you. It leads you to bend down, wash each other’s feet, serve each other, and live for each other’s benefit.
As we learn to be filled with Jesus’ self-giving love, His love flows through us to each other. As we sang earlier:
“Jesus gave to His disciples
A commandment that was new:
‘Show My love to one another,
Do as I have done for you;
All the world will know you love Me
As you love each other too.” (LSB, 446:5)
Amen.
20 November 2013
A Plan for Congregational Tithing
Here is my debut post, posted yesterday, over at Brothers of John the Steadfast.
For the second year in a row my congregation, Hope Lutheran Church, St. Louis, MO, has followed this plan, and it has been a tremendous blessing to be a blessing for and serve others in the church at large. While some might say that such a practice should be a given for a Christian congregation--and, yes, it should--that may not always be the case. Hence the need to teach and lead by example.
Autumn months bring stewardship drives, and pastors encourage their flocks to “step up” their giving in the offering. Pastors may even ask their people to consider “tithing”--giving 10% of their income--off the top. After all, the Church does need money to carry out its work of proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
What if the congregation itself were to practice tithing in its own budget? What would happen if the congregation as a whole were to lead by example and plan to give away 10% of its regular income (Yes, the offerings!), in its annual budget, to missions, charities, and other organizations outside of its own walls?
Blessings would abound. Christian individuals and families would see that, yes, tithing can be practiced. (After all, it’s more than an archaic, Biblical, ‘twould-be-nice-if-only-we-could wish-dream.) The congregation “as a person” would grow in the fruits of serving others. And the work of the Church at large would grow in witness, mercy, and life together.
A Brief Primer on Tithing
For some tithing may be a new concept; for others it may be a point of debate. For our purpose, let’s take the Biblical witness on tithing as a simple, salutary example that we may adopt in sanctified Christian freedom.
Talk of tithing, as well as money in general, must begin with Psalm 24:1: “The earth is the LORD’s and the fullness thereof, the world and all who dwell therein.” God doesn’t need “our” money; it already belongs to Him. We don’t own squat! God simply calls us, as individuals and as congregations, to be wise managers of His belongings.
Tithing first appears in Scripture by way of example in Genesis 14:17-20. Melchizedek blesses Abram, and Abram responds by giving him “a tenth of everything,” likely referring to the spoils (“income”) from his recent victory over several kings. The book of Leviticus is also replete with references to tithing resources such as land and animals (e.g. Leviticus 27:30-32).
According to Malachi 3:8-10, ancient Israel robbed God “in tithes and offerings,” that is, by not giving their tithes and offerings. However, God also made this promise: “‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.’” God attaches some kind of blessing, not necessarily more money, when His people tithe.
Dr. John H. C. Fritz explained the proper view of tithing:
Tithing as the Congregation’s Practice
When the Christian congregation adopts tithing as its regular practice, it will want to focus on Jesus’ words: “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). The practice of tithing seeks to give money away in order to bless and serve neighbors in the Church at large. The primary blessing may simply come in the form of satisfaction that the congregation, as a corporate person, has served its neighbors in the Church at large.
The pastor will want to guide the process, taking time to teach his members on the Scriptural witness of giving and tithing, as well as the needs of the Church at large. The pastor will also want to ensure that the tithing commitment is carried out because, after all, the Old Adam in each of his members will resist just giving money away.
If giving away ten percent of the congregation’s regular income (offerings)--off the top, before any other budget items are planned--seems “unworkable,” the congregation may choose to grow into that percentage. One way to grow into tithing is to give 10 percent from extraordinary, unplanned gifts. If the congregation receives a $10,000 unplanned and undesignated gift (e.g. a bequest), it can decide to give away the first $1,000 (the tithe) before it decides how to use the remaining $9,000 for its own purposes.
Another way to grow into tithing is to begin with a lower percentage. As the pastor and congregational leaders work through next year’s budget, they can calculate the expected income from regular offerings for the coming year, and then resolve to give away five percent (5%) or whatever is manageable. In successive budget years, the congregation can increase that percentage as it becomes more comfortable with giving away money in order to help missions, charities, and other organizations. Ultimately, the goal is to reach that ten percent mark, but there’s nothing to limit the congregation to that figure either.
As the congregation’s budget is drafted, literally make “Tithing” the first item in the “Expenses” section. Print it out thus, so that members can see it and conclude, “Hey, we’re actually giving to serve our neighbor before we plan our own expenses.” This sets a wonderful example for congregational members to do the same in their own budgets.
After the congregation has decided to give away a percentage of its income, then it must actually set that money aside. Each and every week that approved percentage should be taken from the offering monies and placed in a separate savings account dedicated solely to tithing and giving away. This step is crucial and meant to be executed before paying salaries, utilities and other expenses.
The congregation may adopt one of several timeframes for actually disbursing the dedicated funds--monthly, quarterly, or annually. Keeping accurate records of the money that accrues and when it is given away is paramount.
With the leadership of the pastor and elected leaders, the congregation will also want to plan the recipients of its giving. The congregation should ask itself, “What missions, missionaries, charities, and outside organizations do we want to support?” That is, what missions, missionaries, charities, and outside organizations have purposes and goals that are consistent with those of the congregation? A congregation that prizes such things as clear Scriptural teaching, rightly dividing the Word of truth (i.e. distinguishing Law and Gospel), administering the Sacraments of Christ according to His institution, using the liturgy of the Church, and teaching Christians to live in their vocations will seek to support groups and organizations that prize those things as well.
The pastor and leaders may want to devise some method of seeking input from congregational members, such as a suggestion form, for what missions, charities, and outside organizations they would like to support. Then they will want to vet those organizations, draft a plan, and have the congregation as a whole approve the plan.
Such giving can be organized according to the three emphases of the Church: Witness, Mercy, and Life Together. A Witness category would support the proclamation of Jesus Christ around the globe, including missionaries, training of pastors, and faithful radio programs. A Mercy category would support charitable mercy-work for bodily needs, such as food pantries, housing projects, and pro-life ministries, as well as a pastoral discretion fund for local charity needs that may arise. A Life Together category would support our common life gathered around Christ’s gifts in the Divine Service, including the youth organizations, Lutheran school associations, and even one’s church body.
As the money is given away, anticipate the “blessings.” Members will see that, yes, giving is and can be a way of life, especially since the congregation sets the example. Vacuous will be the claims that “I give my money and all they do with it is pay the light bill.” Congregation members may just “step up” their giving because they see the congregation “as a person” being charitable. In addition, as missionaries, charities, and other organizations send their “Thank you” letters, congregation members will take great satisfaction from knowing that, yes, they did help their neighbor and, yes, they are helping to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ into all the world.
For the second year in a row my congregation, Hope Lutheran Church, St. Louis, MO, has followed this plan, and it has been a tremendous blessing to be a blessing for and serve others in the church at large. While some might say that such a practice should be a given for a Christian congregation--and, yes, it should--that may not always be the case. Hence the need to teach and lead by example.
Autumn months bring stewardship drives, and pastors encourage their flocks to “step up” their giving in the offering. Pastors may even ask their people to consider “tithing”--giving 10% of their income--off the top. After all, the Church does need money to carry out its work of proclaiming the Gospel of Jesus Christ.
What if the congregation itself were to practice tithing in its own budget? What would happen if the congregation as a whole were to lead by example and plan to give away 10% of its regular income (Yes, the offerings!), in its annual budget, to missions, charities, and other organizations outside of its own walls?
Blessings would abound. Christian individuals and families would see that, yes, tithing can be practiced. (After all, it’s more than an archaic, Biblical, ‘twould-be-nice-if-only-we-could wish-dream.) The congregation “as a person” would grow in the fruits of serving others. And the work of the Church at large would grow in witness, mercy, and life together.
A Brief Primer on Tithing
For some tithing may be a new concept; for others it may be a point of debate. For our purpose, let’s take the Biblical witness on tithing as a simple, salutary example that we may adopt in sanctified Christian freedom.
Talk of tithing, as well as money in general, must begin with Psalm 24:1: “The earth is the LORD’s and the fullness thereof, the world and all who dwell therein.” God doesn’t need “our” money; it already belongs to Him. We don’t own squat! God simply calls us, as individuals and as congregations, to be wise managers of His belongings.
Tithing first appears in Scripture by way of example in Genesis 14:17-20. Melchizedek blesses Abram, and Abram responds by giving him “a tenth of everything,” likely referring to the spoils (“income”) from his recent victory over several kings. The book of Leviticus is also replete with references to tithing resources such as land and animals (e.g. Leviticus 27:30-32).
According to Malachi 3:8-10, ancient Israel robbed God “in tithes and offerings,” that is, by not giving their tithes and offerings. However, God also made this promise: “‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,’ says the LORD Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.’” God attaches some kind of blessing, not necessarily more money, when His people tithe.
Dr. John H. C. Fritz explained the proper view of tithing:
It is self-evident that the Church needs money, this convenient means of exchange, to carry on its work. The financial needs of the Church do not exceed the financial possibilities of its members; the Lord does not expect that Christians give more than they are able to give. If the Christians of our day would give ten per cent. [sic] of their income, as the Jews did in the Old Testament (in the New Testament this is not obligatory), or if the Christians of our day would support the Church to the extent of their power and even beyond their power, as did the poor Macedonian Christians, 2 Cor. 8, 3, the treasuries of the churches would always be filled to overflowing, and there would no longer be the proverbial church deficit (John H. C. Fritz, Pastoral Theology, 259-260).
Tithing as the Congregation’s Practice
When the Christian congregation adopts tithing as its regular practice, it will want to focus on Jesus’ words: “It is more blessed to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). The practice of tithing seeks to give money away in order to bless and serve neighbors in the Church at large. The primary blessing may simply come in the form of satisfaction that the congregation, as a corporate person, has served its neighbors in the Church at large.
The pastor will want to guide the process, taking time to teach his members on the Scriptural witness of giving and tithing, as well as the needs of the Church at large. The pastor will also want to ensure that the tithing commitment is carried out because, after all, the Old Adam in each of his members will resist just giving money away.
If giving away ten percent of the congregation’s regular income (offerings)--off the top, before any other budget items are planned--seems “unworkable,” the congregation may choose to grow into that percentage. One way to grow into tithing is to give 10 percent from extraordinary, unplanned gifts. If the congregation receives a $10,000 unplanned and undesignated gift (e.g. a bequest), it can decide to give away the first $1,000 (the tithe) before it decides how to use the remaining $9,000 for its own purposes.
Another way to grow into tithing is to begin with a lower percentage. As the pastor and congregational leaders work through next year’s budget, they can calculate the expected income from regular offerings for the coming year, and then resolve to give away five percent (5%) or whatever is manageable. In successive budget years, the congregation can increase that percentage as it becomes more comfortable with giving away money in order to help missions, charities, and other organizations. Ultimately, the goal is to reach that ten percent mark, but there’s nothing to limit the congregation to that figure either.
As the congregation’s budget is drafted, literally make “Tithing” the first item in the “Expenses” section. Print it out thus, so that members can see it and conclude, “Hey, we’re actually giving to serve our neighbor before we plan our own expenses.” This sets a wonderful example for congregational members to do the same in their own budgets.
After the congregation has decided to give away a percentage of its income, then it must actually set that money aside. Each and every week that approved percentage should be taken from the offering monies and placed in a separate savings account dedicated solely to tithing and giving away. This step is crucial and meant to be executed before paying salaries, utilities and other expenses.
The congregation may adopt one of several timeframes for actually disbursing the dedicated funds--monthly, quarterly, or annually. Keeping accurate records of the money that accrues and when it is given away is paramount.
With the leadership of the pastor and elected leaders, the congregation will also want to plan the recipients of its giving. The congregation should ask itself, “What missions, missionaries, charities, and outside organizations do we want to support?” That is, what missions, missionaries, charities, and outside organizations have purposes and goals that are consistent with those of the congregation? A congregation that prizes such things as clear Scriptural teaching, rightly dividing the Word of truth (i.e. distinguishing Law and Gospel), administering the Sacraments of Christ according to His institution, using the liturgy of the Church, and teaching Christians to live in their vocations will seek to support groups and organizations that prize those things as well.
The pastor and leaders may want to devise some method of seeking input from congregational members, such as a suggestion form, for what missions, charities, and outside organizations they would like to support. Then they will want to vet those organizations, draft a plan, and have the congregation as a whole approve the plan.
Such giving can be organized according to the three emphases of the Church: Witness, Mercy, and Life Together. A Witness category would support the proclamation of Jesus Christ around the globe, including missionaries, training of pastors, and faithful radio programs. A Mercy category would support charitable mercy-work for bodily needs, such as food pantries, housing projects, and pro-life ministries, as well as a pastoral discretion fund for local charity needs that may arise. A Life Together category would support our common life gathered around Christ’s gifts in the Divine Service, including the youth organizations, Lutheran school associations, and even one’s church body.
As the money is given away, anticipate the “blessings.” Members will see that, yes, giving is and can be a way of life, especially since the congregation sets the example. Vacuous will be the claims that “I give my money and all they do with it is pay the light bill.” Congregation members may just “step up” their giving because they see the congregation “as a person” being charitable. In addition, as missionaries, charities, and other organizations send their “Thank you” letters, congregation members will take great satisfaction from knowing that, yes, they did help their neighbor and, yes, they are helping to spread the Gospel of Jesus Christ into all the world.
“You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God. For the ministry of this service is not only supplying the needs of the saints but is also overflowing in many thanksgivings to God” (2 Corinthians 9:11-12).
12 August 2012
03 May 2012
Delightful Hearing
Thank you, Pr. Weedon, for the kudos on KFUO's "Morning Show," and especially for your insight into today's reading from Luke 10!
I do have to wonder if it wasn't the hearing of this text that largely sparked the insight. After all, when we read the text on a page, we do tend to break things up, by sentence or verse or paragraph or according to editorial headings. But when we actually hear the text read aloud, the mind - with the aid of the Holy Spirit, of course (cf. John 16:13) - seems to make these insightful connections. St. Paul said it well: "Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ" (Rom. 10:17).
And that's what makes it so delightful to put the Church's prayer life out on the airwaves to be heard.
Here's Pr. Weedon's post in full:
I do have to wonder if it wasn't the hearing of this text that largely sparked the insight. After all, when we read the text on a page, we do tend to break things up, by sentence or verse or paragraph or according to editorial headings. But when we actually hear the text read aloud, the mind - with the aid of the Holy Spirit, of course (cf. John 16:13) - seems to make these insightful connections. St. Paul said it well: "Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ" (Rom. 10:17).
And that's what makes it so delightful to put the Church's prayer life out on the airwaves to be heard.
Here's Pr. Weedon's post in full:
One of the delightful things...
...about the morning commute into St. Louis is that at 7 a.m. each morning, KFUO (850 AM) returns to the airwaves, and I get to pray Matins with my dear friend, Pastor Randy Asburry. This morning as he read the NT reading in Treasury (from Luke 10), I heard something I'd always missed before. You see, one of the dangers of using a lectionary is that stories take on a life of their own and you forget that they nestle right next to OTHER stories. So I certainly know very well the pericopes dealing with the Good Samaritan, and Jesus' visit to the home of Martha and Mary. But I plum forgot that thy literally are next-door neighbors!
So, think of it: the Good Samaritan story ends with Jesus wringing from the lawyer the very word that is at the heart of Torah: mercy. And he tells him: "Go and do likewise." Go, show mercy. Go, have compassion. Go, be of service and use to another.
And THEN, we see Martha being all good Samaritanish, serving and working in the kitchen, fixing a meal for our Lord and his followers. And yet when she dares to criticize Mary and urge the Lord to tell her to get busy with the serving, Jesus stops her dead in her tracks. The result of Martha's busyness was that she was fretting and worked up about lots of stuff. Mary, on the other hand, has chosen the better part, the better portion, the chief goodie. Jesus refuses to let anyone take it from her.
The life of action or the contemplative life? Well, our Lord desires for us both. But he's utterly clear which MUST have the priority. His Word and the hearing of His Word and its preaching. That's the best, and we must never allow anyone to deprive us of it with urging to be busy. For we can ONLY "go and do likewise" when we have first sat at the Feet of the Good Samaritan and let Him through His Word spoken and sacramentally enacted bind up our wounds, anoint us, and heal us.
Anywho, kudos to KFUO for allowing us to kick off each day with the joys of hearing the Word together, singing God's praises together, and asking His blessing upon the new day He has seen fit to give us. "O Lord, open my lips and my mouth will declare Your praise!"
11 September 2011
Homily for 9/11/11
On this 10th anniversary of the terrorist attacks of 9/11/01, we at Hope Lutheran Church, St. Louis, MO, observed a "Day of Supplication and Prayer," beginning the Divine Service with the Litany and then using the propers from Lutheran Service Book. With plenty of civil remembrances striking the national pride themes, we thought it best to do what God's people are always called to do: turn to Him in prayer and make supplication for His mercy.
The homily focused on the question that stills vexes us as a nation, and especially those most intimately involved in the aftermath ten years ago: "WHY?" While we may not always be able to answer the "Why?" question, at least not satisfactorily for some, we can certainly look to the Father who does still call us sinners to return to Him because of the suffering, death, and resurrection of His Son Jesus Christ.
To listen to today's homily, "WHY?" on this occasion of a Day of Supplication and Prayer, click on this link and download the audio file.
The homily focused on the question that stills vexes us as a nation, and especially those most intimately involved in the aftermath ten years ago: "WHY?" While we may not always be able to answer the "Why?" question, at least not satisfactorily for some, we can certainly look to the Father who does still call us sinners to return to Him because of the suffering, death, and resurrection of His Son Jesus Christ.
To listen to today's homily, "WHY?" on this occasion of a Day of Supplication and Prayer, click on this link and download the audio file.
20 July 2011
Homily for Trinity 4
The Fourth Sunday after Trinity draws our attention to mercy, specifically Jesus exhorting His followers to "Be merciful" even as their heavenly Father is merciful. Since we have been shown great mercy, we get to live in and show mercy to those around us. How did St. John say it? "We love because He first loved us" (1 John 4:19).
Click here to download and listen to Sunday's homily, simply titled, "Be Merciful."
Click here to download and listen to Sunday's homily, simply titled, "Be Merciful."
26 May 2011
Pres. Harrison on Tornado Damage & Relief Efforts in Joplin, MO
LCMS President Matthew Harrison again responds to a recent disaster, this time in Joplin, MO. He updates us on the excellent mercy work that's already underway and encourages us to give generously to aid our brothers and sisters and others in the Joplin community.
"So then as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith." (Galatians 6:10)
* Read the latest news headlines and updates on how LCMS is responding to needs in Joplin, Mo., and other tornado-damaged areas on our Tornado Relief page at www.lcms.org/disaster/tornado.
* LCMS World Relief and Human Care Disaster Blog
"So then as we have opportunity, let us do good to everyone, and especially to those who are of the household of faith." (Galatians 6:10)
* Read the latest news headlines and updates on how LCMS is responding to needs in Joplin, Mo., and other tornado-damaged areas on our Tornado Relief page at www.lcms.org/disaster/tornado.
* LCMS World Relief and Human Care Disaster Blog
01 May 2011
09 March 2011
The Litany for Lent
Here's a good, right, and salutary greeting from LCMS President Matthew Harrison as we begin the solemn season of Lent. He also urges us to pray the Litany throughout the season.
15 February 2011
What do you get...
...when you cross a bona fide sinner with a pastor who knows his Bible and teaches it with gusto with a president of a church body, namely the LCMS?
Watch and find out! It's only about 30 minutes, but well worth every second. Enjoy and be edified as President Matt Harrison speaks to the LCEF Fall Leadership Conference on the emphasis of "Witness, Mercy, and Life Together."
Watch and find out! It's only about 30 minutes, but well worth every second. Enjoy and be edified as President Matt Harrison speaks to the LCEF Fall Leadership Conference on the emphasis of "Witness, Mercy, and Life Together."
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