Homily for Lent 5 Evening Prayer (2020)

"Covered by Innocent Death"
2 Samuel 11:1-12:14 & Matthew 27:32-66

This homily was prepared before this evening's Lent Evening Prayer had to be cancelled due to the COVID-19 pandemic.

To prepare for the homily, read the Scripture readings above.

My, how we love to cover up our sins! David sets the example, and we gladly follow in his footsteps. He was Israel’s greatest king, after all, a man after God’s own heart, a good role model, to be sure. But notice how he, a man who could sing God’s praises like no one else, could also cover up his sins like no one else.

It began before the cover-up, before the murder, before the adultery, even before the coveting of another man’s beautiful bride. It began as David neglected his vocation, his God-given calling. It was “the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle.” It’s what kings do. It’s in their “job description” under the heading “Defend and protect the citizens of your nation.” But that one time David neglected that duty. He presumed he had better things to do, more important things to accomplish—like play peeping tom and ogle the topless beauty next door. “Who is she? Oh, Bathsheba. Bring her to me. But keep it hush, hush. No one needs to know.”

God knew, though.

Then David, the suave, debonair, romantic lover, easily concealed his sin of neglecting his vocation. And one sin led to another, all too naturally and all too easily. A little sweet talk. A lot of passion. Don’t worry about the guilt or others finding out. After all, he’s the king. Surely he knows how to keep such things under wraps. They don’t call it “Secret Service” for nothing.

Then the big “Uh-oh!” She’s what? Pregnant? Oh, my! Everyone will know soon enough, especially when she starts showing. Hmm. How to fix this? How to clean up this unfortunate mess? Ah-ha! Bring hubby home. Get him to sleep with his wife. Everyone will think it’s Uriah’s child. No one will be the wiser.

Except God.

It turns out that Uriah the Hittite, the foreigner, the little man from an unbelieving people, had more honor and integrity than powerful, respected King David. Enjoy the comforts of home while his army buddies were still out suffering the heat of battle and the fog of war? Perish the thought! And perish David’s cover-up plan too, as it turned out. Even stone-cold drunk, Uriah displayed more honor and integrity than King David, who’s sole intent was covering up his sins. So when Uriah would not participate and cooperate, David would eliminate, in the battle, where it would be sad, to be sure, but only natural. Who would suspect a thing?

God would. And God did.

Notice the pattern. David’s first unnoticeable sin—neglecting his vocation—led to another—coveting—and then another—adultery—and then another—murder—and all under his man-made cloak of secrecy. But God’s X-ray vision sees right through the sheer and flimsy strategies we use to cover up our many transgressions.

God sent Pastor Nathan to confront and rebuke King David. Not only was Nathan risking his very life—because the King could easily say, “Out of my sight and off with his head”—but he was about to do the more dangerous task of exposing sin. So Nathan shrouds his rebuke in an innocent story: a poor man cheated out of his only lamb by a rich man who should have taken from his own God-given wealth. When David heard the innocent-sounding story, his passion for justice burned hot. You see, covering up your own sins often makes you quite self-righteous, hotly indignant, and overly judgmental about the sins of other people. All of that pent up energy from keeping your own sins under wraps explodes and erupts at the least little transgression … of someone else.

Nathan’s rebuke of David comes in the simplest of words: “You are the man!” He might as well point the finger and say those same words to each of us: “You are the man! You are the woman! You are the boy! You are the girl! Yes, you are the one who has sinned. Cover it up all you like; you cannot hide it from God. Conceal it under your every excuse and rationalization; hide it with deeds that appear honorable and even devout; but you still cannot fool God. As He says elsewhere: “Whoever conceals his transgression will not prosper.” Man-devised cover-ups never work. No way, no how!

But here is where David becomes a salutary role model in a better way. He simply confessed his sin and sins—no excuses, no justifications, no more covering up. “I have sinned against the LORD.” They are words for you too—and words to utter with no excuses, no justifications, no more covering up. “[I] have sinned against You in thought, word, and deed, by what [I] have done and by what [I] have left undone.” “Lord, to You I make confession: / I have sinned and gone astray, / I have multiplied transgression, / Chosen for myself my way. / Led by You to see my errors, / Lord, I tremble at Your terrors” (LSB, 608:1).

Then, for David and for you, God’s words delivered through the pastor’s mouth come rushing in to heal, to restore, and to give life. “The LORD also has put away your sin; you shall not die.” Sins exposed, forgiveness uttered, life bestowed! What a sweet and glorious moment! What a life-changing and liberating message! God’s own forgiveness comes through the voice of a man, a fellow sinner. As God says in the Proverb: “but he who confesses and forsakes [his transgressions] will obtain mercy.”

There’s a curious little conclusion to David’s confession and absolution, however. Yes, David confessed, but that’s not why he was forgiven. Merely confessing and forsaking our transgressions does not earn or achieve God’s life-giving forgiveness. Listen to God’s words uttered through Pastor Nathan’s mouth: “Nevertheless, because by this deed you have utterly scorned the LORD, the child who is born to you shall die.”

At first we might hear these words as God unfairly withdrawing His absolution, or suddenly hiding His mercy behind a cloak of retribution. But let’s take these words as glorious and comforting Gospel instead! The LORD put away David’s sins; he would not die. But the Child born to David—the Son of David yet to come, ten centuries down the road—He would die, and He would die carrying David’s specific, concrete, and now-exposed sins. The Absolution was certainly free for David, just as it’s free for you and me. But it is very costly for the Child of David named Jesus. No, you will not die for your sins, God says, but the Son of David will. The Son of David has. As we sing: “For Your Son has suffered for me, / Giv’n Himself to rescue me, / Died to save me and restore me. / Reconciled and set me free. / Jesus’ cross alone can vanquish / These dark fears and soothe this anguish” (LSB 608:3)

And we—like role-model David before us—are now covered by an innocent death. Instead of feebly covering our sins, and multiplying them exponentially in the process, we can take comfort in the innocent death of the sinless Son of God and Son of David. When Jesus died on that cross, the centurion marveled saying, “Truly this was the Son of God!” He could have said just as truly, “This was the Son of David—the innocent Child whose death covers our sin.” And when the greater Child of David covers the sins that we expose in Confession, they remain truly covered—covered by His innocent blood, covered from God, covered from us, covered and never to be exposed again. The Lord who has suffered and died for you has put away your sin; you shall not die. Amen.

Homily for Lent 5 (Judica) - 2020

"Never See Death"
John 8:42-59

Listen here.

Why did they want to kill Jesus? Because He was telling the truth. He was telling them things that did not fit into their self-made notions of religion. Earlier He had told them they were from below, but He was from above. He had told them they were of this world, but He was not of this world (John 8:23). Earlier He had said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly My disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free” (John 8:31).

They replied that they were descendants of Abraham, that they had never not been free, that they had never been enslaved to anyone. I guess they conveniently forgot the stubborn facts of their past and their present—slavery in Egypt, exile in Babylon, and then occupation by Rome. They misunderstood what Jesus was telling them. He meant that they were slaves to sin and death. He meant that He, the Son, had come to set them free. But they would not recognize or admit their slavery. And thus they would not accept Jesus’ Word. So they remained enslaved in their sin.

Now in today’s Gospel, Jesus tells them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” Another word of truth. Another word of Jesus that they have difficulty hearing and accepting. Who does this Jesus think He is? Our Father Abraham died. The prophets died. Everyone dies. So Jesus has to tell them yet another word of truth: “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I AM.”

Who is this Man? This is the Son of God, the eternal Son of the Father, the One who was with the Father before all things were made. This is the One who became incarnate, who came into our world, who took on our flesh and bone and body. He is the One who can sympathize with our weaknesses, our fears, our illnesses because He has lived life in our shoes. He is the timeless One, the One who existed before Abraham, and yet He also became Abraham’s descendant. He is the One—the only One—who can say, ”If anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.”

Scripture gives no record of these exact words being spoken to Abraham, but this is the very Word of promise that Abraham believed, kept, and held onto. Remember how he saddled his donkey and took his only son, whom he loved, to the mountain as the Lord directed him. Remember how he took the wood and laid it on the back of his beloved son. Remember how he built the altar, most likely with the help of his son, and then tied up his beloved son and laid him on top of the altar. Abraham held onto the Word of the Lord as “he considered that God was able even to raise [Isaac] from the dead, from which, figuratively speaking, he did receive him back” (Heb. 11:19). Yes, Abraham believed and kept the Word of the Lord, and that day his son Isaac did not see death.

Genesis says that God did this to test Abraham. It was also more than a test; it was a type, a picture, a preview of another Son of Abraham, our Lord Jesus Himself. Jesus is the promised Son who carries the wood of His cross upon His back. He goes back up Calvary’s mountain to make the great sacrifice to rescue us from the infection of our sin. He is the beloved Son who is bound—willingly bound—and laid upon the altar of the cross to deliver us from death. He is the Lamb whom God provides for Himself for a burnt offering. He is the Lamb who is offered for us, who is willingly caught in the thicket of our sin and wears the crown of thorns upon His head. Yes, on that Mount of the Lord, Jesus provided our deliverance from everything that infects us, especially sin and death.

So, yes, Jesus can say, if anyone keeps His Word, that person will never see death. How can He say that? Because He came to see death for us and give us His life. He came to drink the cup of suffering in order that we may be released from death’s iron-fisted grasp. He came to be our High Priest who entered into the Holy Place of Heaven and with His own blood gained everlasting redemption for His people, that we might receive the promised eternal inheritance. He came to offer Himself without blemish to God and spill His innocent blood to purify our consciences from dead works to serve the living God. As we keep and hold onto His Word, we are rescued from death’s sting and God’s eternal judgment.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You also have His Word. When you keep it and hold onto it, you gain a share in that life which is stronger than death. Martin Luther proclaimed it this way: “Whoever…heeds God’s Word has both its glory and benefit: glory, in that he is of God and is God’s child; benefit, in that the Word which he believes saves him. And though he will still become ill, be assailed somewhat by the devil, and experience physical death, yet at the moment his soul is released he will, as it were, fall asleep and come into Christ’s bosom, with the angels ministering to him and bearing him up, so that his foot is not dashed against a stone, as promised in Psalm 91:12” (House Postils, 1:364).

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You have His Word. Keep it and hold onto it for dear life. Jesus is the One who promises: “I AM the Resurrection and the Life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die” (John 11:25-26). If you believe in Jesus, you already have eternal life. And nothing can take that away from you—not even that nasty bug called coronavirus or its disease called COVID-19.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You have His Word. Keep it and hold onto it for dear life, especially in this time of pandemic and uncertainty. He is the One who promises: “Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him” (John 6:54-55). If you are united to Jesus in His Holy Supper, you already have the victory over death, because His risen and glorified Body and Blood give you His life, now and forever. Remember that now as we must fast from His Body and Blood for a time, at least as His gathered body. And remember that fasting only leads us to hunger and thirst for it even more.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You have His Word. Keep it and hold onto it for dear life. He is the One who also promises that the one who “is born of water and the Spirit” gets to enter and see the kingdom of God (John 3:3, 5). If you are united to Jesus in His holy Washing, you have died with Him, been buried with Him, and are already raised with Him. When you “have been united with Him in a death like His, [you] shall certainly be united with Him in a resurrection like His” (Rom. 6:5). Even now you get to walk in newness of life.

“Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” You have His Word. Keep it and hold onto it for dear life. Jesus is the One who sends His called and ordained servants to “forgive the sins of any,” and those sins “are forgiven them.” (John 20:23). When you hear Jesus’ Word forgiving your sins, you receive His Holy Spirit, your sins are removed from you “as far as the east is from the west” (Psalm 103:12), and you have peace. And this is the peace that sustains and soothes in times of upheaval. This is the peace that leads us to rejoice in the midst of our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope in Jesus does not disappoint. (Rom. 5)

So hold onto Jesus and His Word for dear life. After all, His promise is sure and certain: “If anyone keeps my word, he will never see death.” Amen.

Homily for Lent 4 (Laetare) - 2020

"The Real Game-Changer"
Exodus 16:2-21; Acts 2:41-47; John 6:1-15

Listen here.

Let’s talk COVID-19. Everyone’s talking about it these days. Lately, it’s been just about the only topic of conversation. Okay, some did welcome the news of Tom Brady leaving the New England Patriots as a welcome diversion. But just about everything else centers on COVID-19. Social distancing. Self-quarantines and stay at home orders. The economy in general and the stock market in particular. Sports events cancelled. Certain stores and restaurants closed. You name it, we’re talking about it through the megaphone of Coronavirus. COVID-19 has even changed the way we think, talk and “meme” about toilet paper, of all things!

So let’s just do it. Let’s talk COVID-19. After all, it’s also why we’re here today in such unusual circumstances—a very small crowd allowed here in church, our first ever live-streaming service online, and receiving our Lord’s Body and Blood in shifts today and tomorrow. Everything else on the parish schedule is postponed, up in the air and otherwise uncertain. What does all of it mean? How shall we—how can we—live, survive and respond as the body of Christ? So much fear. So much anxiety. So much uncertainty.

So let’s dive right in. Let’s talk COVID-19, but let’s do so in the light of our Lord’s Word. After all, He is the light of the world. Whoever follows Him will not walk in darkness, gloom, or despair, but will have the light of life (cf. Jn. 8:12). It must be more than happenstance that we celebrate Laetare Sunday when we are suffocating with fears, anxieties, and uncertainties. That historic name for this Fourth Sunday in Lent leads us to lift up our heads and hearts for a bit of fresh air—the fresh air of rejoicing, rejoicing in our Lord Jesus, in His provision, in His refreshment.

Do we have it any worse than the people of Israel in the wilderness? The Lord’s gift of delivering them from Egyptian slavery had cut them off from their supply chains of meat pots and bread to the full. They had socially distanced themselves from their familiar homes in Egypt and were dwelling in tents out in no-man’s land. And the fear, uncertainty and grumbling began. “Would that we had died…,” they cried. No one enjoys being confronted with the unknown wilderness! It can be quite discombobulating, to be sure, but it does happen.

And yet Yahweh was gracious and merciful. It was actually His work of saving them that compelled them to confront the unknown wilderness and face their own fears. So He told Moses that He would “rain bread from heaven” for His people. With this gracious promise intended to overcome their fears, God also said He would “test them, whether they will walk in My [Word] or not.” So quail was on the menu that evening and manna would rain down day by day, and only enough for each day. Would they trust the God who loved them and had saved them? “Whoever gathered much had nothing left over, and whoever gathered little had no lack. Each of them gathered as much as he could eat.” Some, of course, did not listen to Moses or the Lord. They tried to hoard and their hoarding left them with rancid, worm-infested food.

God most certainly cares for you in both body and soul. Not only has He redeemed you from sin and death through His Son, the very Bread of Life, but He also provides for your every bodily need. The test in this unknown, fearful wilderness of our COVID-19 time is this: Will you walk in His Word of promise or not? Will you rely on Him who has loved you with a love that overcomes plagues and pestilences? Will you depend on His light in the midst of any and all darkness? He is gracious and merciful, and, yes, He does provide.

Now put yourselves on that grassy knoll up on the mountain with Jesus and His disciples. You’ve seen “the signs that He was doing on the sick.” It’s evident He cares, and that He can and does heal. And the holy week of Passover is just around the corner. Through the day, you’ve been listening to Jesus teach the light and life of God’s kingdom (cf. Lk. 9:11). Now it’s evening and you’re hungry. And Jesus decides to test His disciples: “Where are we to buy bread, so that these people may eat?” We can relate to such a critical question, with news and experiences of empty store shelves.

Now put yourself in Philip’s sandals. “Lord, the need is overwhelming! Even if we did have enough money, we could only buy enough food for everyone to have just a nibble.” The huge scope of the problem will do that to you. Rising numbers of those infected and dying. Shrinking mobility. Economy tanking and 401(k)s evaporating. It’s enough to lead you to despair.

Or put yourself in Andrew’s sandals. For him it’s not the massive need; it’s the meager resources. Only five barley sandwich rolls and two small fillets of fish? “What are they for so many?” Empty store shelves? No hand sanitizer? No Lysol hand wipes? Not enough protective masks or gloves for our medical heroes? What shall we do? How shall we survive? Such meager resources! It’s enough to lead to panic or hoarding.

Now notice how Jesus does not even answer Philip or Andrew. Oh, He hears their fears—and yours too. He knows the needs of the crowd—and your needs, and the needs of our city and nation, even the needs of the whole world and everyone in it. Since “He Himself knew what He would do,” He calmly tells His twelve assistants to “have the people sit down.” Then, as only Jesus can do, He faithfully gives thanks for the meager resources and distributes them into the mouths of the massive need. Everyone—5,000-plus—has full, happy tummies. All is good once again. And left over fragments even fill twelve baskets.

So fear not! Your Lord Jesus knows your needs, as well as your fears. And He knows how best to meet those needs and squelch those fears, especially when you do not. But it’s also instructive and helpful to notice what Jesus did when the crowd tried to “take Him by force to make Him king.” He “withdrew again to the mountain by Himself.” Jesus is no mere bread king to fill empty stomachs or  remove every physical malady. No, He’s a bigger king; He’s a better king than that. He can give medical authorities and governing authorities to address pandemics and bless their efforts.

But only He can address that most infectious virus we all have from birth, that most infectious virus we will ever know—our sin, our mistrust, our rebellion against God. That’s what He came to heal. And He showed His kingship by taking the throne of a cross. There He shed the healing medicine of His innocent blood. From there He went into a tomb to sanctify the graves of His saints. On the third day He rose again to bring life and immortality to light. And then He ascended to sit at the Father’s right hand, ruling all things—even pandemics—for our eternal good.

That, dear friends, is the real game-changer. Last week, when the so-called “rule of 10” came down, I called it a game-changer for how we can carry on our worship life in this time of pandemic. Another game-changer came yesterday with the City’s “stay-at-home” order. And, who knows, certain medications recently reported on may be game-changers in dealing with COVID-19. But the truest, mightiest, absolutely everlasting game-changer is our Lord’s own sacrifice, death, and resurrection. That helps us put everything else—even Coronavirus—in perspective.

We need not fear or panic or despair. We especially need not fear death itself, however it may come. Instead, we may freely and joyously devote ourselves “to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers.” We may happily and readily show the world the power of being fed on our Lord’s Word and Sacrament, of banding together to care for one another, and of using our possessions and belongings for all, as any has need.

Dear ones, remember these words from St. Paul: “In all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Rom. 8:37-39) Amen.

Homily for Advent 2 Evening Prayer - 2019

"To Set You Free from All Your Sorrow"
Micah 5:2-5a; 1 Peter 1:3-9; Matthew 2:1-12

With complete credit and much appreciation to Rev. Kevin Golden and Concordia Publishing House's "Behold the Child" Advent series, and with slight revisions for my proclamation.

The music in malls and stores drips with sweetness. The scent wafting from Christmas fudge and cookies is even sweeter. And visions of family and friends with beaming faces because of the gift you gave—something still sweeter. Such is the marketing of joy. It can be produced by what you do, as long as you follow the wisdom of the advertisers. And yet for all the joy we are promised, joy can be quite elusive for many. Mourning for loved ones, anxious over strained finances, uncertain whether estranged family will even respond to invitations. Some may be expecting a blue Christmas.

Joy can be hard to come by. Where will you find it? Right here. This Advent season brings joy as you wait for and anticipate Christ’s birth. We are four days from the Third Sunday of Advent, the day called Gaudete. That’s Latin for “rejoice.” Even the Advent wreath will call you to rejoice this Sunday when the rose candle is lit. But it takes time to arrive at His birth. We are tempted to jump the gun, skip over Advent, and get right to Christmas. But that’s not how life works. The things that bring us joy are worth the wait. The things that bring us joy don’t come easily; they require patience. And as we wait, distractions sneak in to rob us of joy. Then sorrow fills the void. When joy should be flooding upon us, it escapes us. If joy can be elusive, sorrow takes hold far too easily. But you are blessed as the Magi come full of joy.

Rejoice with the Magi, because Jesus answers your sorrow.

Rejoice. You do have reason for joy. Consider everything you enjoy. God provides you with daily bread—everything that has to do with the support and needs of your body and even more than you need. You have reason for joy. But it’s too easy to be distracted from joy.

Herod was distracted. The Magi arrive in Jerusalem looking for the One who has been born King of the Jews. Herod calls the scribes so they can tell him where The Christ was to be born. They find the answer in the prophet Micah. God’s promise delivered by the prophets is fulfilled in Christ. Generations of the faithful had been longing to see it. Many had spent their lives desiring it. Now it stands fulfilled. That’s reason for joy. But not for Herod. He is distracted from joy. He is distracted by power and love of the status quo. He plots to kill the Christ Child to safeguard his own power. He is quite content with the way things are. He will not tolerate a rival to his throne.

When joy departs, sorrow finds a home. You know how that works, perhaps in the opposite direction of Herod. You have been distracted from joy by your lack of power, and so you sorrow over things never going your way. “Why can’t things just work the way that I want them, at least this once?” Then notice what happens. You focus on what you don’t have. You lose sight of what you do have, and so joy flees. Rather than rejoicing in all that God provides for you—your daily bread and more—you are distracted by frustration with the status quo. You covet more; you covet what others enjoy. Instead of seeing the Lord’s bounty bestowed upon you, you see what others have and you do not.

When joy departs, sorrow moves into your heart. Sorrow exceeds sadness, both in duration and in intensity. Sadness comes and goes, but sorrow remains for longer periods. The longer it stays, the more piercing it becomes. Sorrow is the opposite of joy. Joy requires patience as you wait to realize what you desire—waiting for graduation, waiting for marriage, waiting for a birth, waiting for Christmas. But sorrow feeds off your impatience. The longer you must go without having what you desire the deeper sorrow becomes. Sorrow tells you that joy does not come from waiting; it says your desire must be satiated right now. How has sorrow robbed you of joy?

However it has happened, Jesus answers your sorrow by who He is. He will not be who Herod wants Him to be. He will not be a rival who can be killed so that power can be preserved and the status quo maintained. He will not be who you want Him to be either. He will not be a servant who bows to your every desire. He will not treat you as if you were the king or queen. He will not be the one who upends the status quo so that you can have your dreams right now. Jesus will only be who you need Him to be. And He will be far more than you want.

When the Magi arrive, you get to see who He is. Matthew says that when they saw the child, the Magi fell down and worshiped Him. A more accurate translation would be they fell down and prostrated themselves to Him. Thirty years later, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary will find Jesus outside an empty tomb. They will do the same thing, fall down and prostrate themselves. Then the Eleven will meet Jesus in Galilee and they will also prostrate themselves to Jesus. You only prostrate yourself before God. The Magi knew it. The women at the tomb knew it. The disciples knew it.

That act of prostrating oneself reveals joy. The women at the tomb were overjoyed to see Jesus resurrected, and so were His disciples. This is the God you have: the God who chooses to humble Himself to be born not in legendary Jerusalem but in lowly Bethlehem, the God who chooses to die and rise so that you may receive what you need—forgiveness and salvation—rather than what you want. The King’s greatness is found in His humility. So Matthew tells us, literally, that the Magi “rejoiced a great joy greatly.” That’s two joys and two greats. Matthew is making the point that there is reason aplenty for joy, and it’s all because Jesus is who He is. He is the God who gives you not what you want but what you need—His coming in the flesh, His dying and rising in the flesh, all that you may have forgiveness, that you may be saved, that you may have joy.

“He whom sages, westward faring,…Humbly worshiped, off’rings sharing.” Why worship this child? Because the Lord has revealed to the Magi who this Child is and why He has come. “Lying helpless in a manger, poor and bare and lowly, To set you free from all your sorrow wholly.” Amen.

Homily for Trinity 21 - 2019

Do You Really Believe God's Word?
John 4:46-54

It’s very hard to believe God’s Word.  I mean really believe it. Just ask the nobleman from Capernaum. He had heard about Jesus turning water into wine at Cana. He had heard about Jesus miraculously healing other people. Now he wanted just such a miracle. His son was feverish, almost to the point of death. But would he really believe God’s Word?

Or would the nobleman believe the miracle over the Word? Jesus had to call him, the crowd, and us to the carpet for trusting in “signs and wonders.” “Unless you see signs and wonders,” He told the nobleman, the crowd, and us, “you will not believe.” You can almost see Jesus shaking His head. You see, “signs and wonders” are for the weak in faith, for those who can only handle milk but not meat. Yet Jesus still wants to help the nobleman, and us, grow in believing Him, the Word of God in the flesh.

It’s amazing how a personal tragedy or hardship in life turns you to the Word who is Jesus. But do you really believe God’s Word in the flesh? Perhaps you are like the nobleman, who needed proof before he could believe.

Perhaps you are like Thomas. He needed to see Jesus and put His fingers into Jesus’ wounds before he would believe. Jesus first appeared to ten of His disciples, but Thomas was absent. And Thomas would not believe the Word that the others later proclaimed to him until he himself saw and touched Jesus in the flesh. The next Sunday, Jesus did appear to Thomas of the weak faith, and He did grant Thomas his request. Then Jesus also said, “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed” (Jn. 20:29).

Or perhaps you are like Elijah. He expected to see and hear God in the loud wind, or in the earthquake, or in the raging fire. But God was not in those things. No, Elijah heard God in the “sound of a low whisper” (1 Kgs. 19:12). God certainly allows and sends natural disasters, such as hurricanes and earthquakes, so that we might turn from our self-centered thoughts and ways, so that we might repent and trust Him for every need. But He speaks to us in the still small voice of His Word, especially the Word made flesh, Jesus the Son of God.

Do you really believe God’s Word? Or would you rather look for things that are much more monumental? Would you rather seek God’s love for you in what looks good and successful? Perhaps the preaching of the holy Gospel and the giving out of the holy Sacraments don’t seem to do the job. Perhaps you’d rather see the capacity crowds, even standing room only, in the church. Perhaps you’d like to add something—anything—to draw the crowds. Perhaps you’d rather see the “faith healer” do his or her work to the applause and cheers of adoring crowds.

But if you want these things, you must be ready for the consequences. When you need the healing and don’t get it, you’ll be told, “Well, you don’t have enough faith. You need to read your Bible more. You must pray harder. Come back when you have enough faith, and then we’ll see what we can do for you.”

Notice that the nobleman’s faith grows beyond wanting mere signs and wonders. He persists. He says, “Sir, come down before my child dies!” He wanted more than a miracle; he wanted the Lord Jesus to help him. He knew and trusted that only the Word of God in human flesh could give life. But would he really believe this Word? It seems that he would not be satisfied until Jesus dropped what He was doing, changed His schedule, and made a personal visit to Capernaum.

Again, you and I are like this nobleman. We may get past the immature need for “signs and wonders,” but we still want to tell God how to do His job of being God. Perhaps we think that God must immediately heal us of the disease or injury we have. Doesn’t He know how it will get in the way of your daily life? Perhaps we try to convince God to remove the family trial we’re going through. Doesn’t He know it’s torture? Perhaps we actually come out and ask God to make those other people see our point of view. Doesn’t He know you are always right?

But Jesus will not be dethroned from His place as God’s eternal Word of love and life for us. The nobleman begs Jesus to come to his home, but Jesus says, “I’ll do something even better. I will not come to your home, but I will heal and give life back to your son.” “Go; your son lives.” That’s it! Just a word. That’s all the nobleman had to go on. As one preacher once said, “The nobleman went home with only a word in his pocket.” Would he really believe that Word?

As the nobleman returned home, his servants met him on the way. They told him that his son had recovered. He asked, “At what time?” They said, “Yesterday at about 1 PM.” The nobleman knew that was the time that Jesus had said, “Your son lives.” So, really, two people were cured—the young lad who was sick and on death’s doorstep, and his father who fought the disease of unbelief. “He himself believed, and all his household.”

Do you really believe God’s Word? Do you really trust this Man who brings life into this world of death? You see, Jesus comes to heal you here today. If you’re honest with yourself, sometimes it’s hard trust that He sends the Holy Spirit to call, gather, enlighten, and sanctify the whole Christian Church on earth and keep her with Jesus Christ in the one true faith. Truth be told, you want to add various “signs and wonders”—whether they’re outward signs of success or inward signs of wonderful feelings. Somehow, we think, that will give the Spirit a nudge.

But Jesus knows how to heal and give life. You see, God does not hate you or His creation. No, He longs to heal and restore. Even though you are feverish in your sin, sick to the point of death, your God still loves you and works to heal you. That’s why He sends His only-begotten Son into the flesh. “In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent his only Son into the world, so that we might live through him.” (1 Jn. 4:9). Jesus took your sickness of sin and death upon Himself. He took the punishment and wrath that you deserved upon Himself. And when He died on the cross, He sent your sins packing and trampled death to death. When He came forth from the grave victorious, He burst a big, gaping hole in death’s belly. Now sickness and death have no more dominion over you. Sure, we’re all bound to catch a virus now and then; maybe even contract a deadly disease. But those things cannot separate you from God’s love in Christ Jesus. Now you get to live!

That’s the Word that you get to hear over and over again. Just as Jesus told the nobleman, “Your son lives,” He also tells you: “You now live.” And notice how Jesus tells you this—through His Word. So, do you really believe His Word? In the face of your daily struggles, you may certainly believe the Word that comes to you here in the Divine Service. You may certainly believe what Jesus says to you through Holy Scripture, through the Word read from the lectern and proclaimed from the pulpit. As Jesus said, “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).

And this same Jesus, this same Word in the flesh, also said: “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day” (Jn. 6:53-54). Let that be the Word in your pocket, the Word that you really believe, the Word that says, “You live, because you eat and drink Me!”

No, you don’t need to look for signs and wonders. You have the divine wonder of Jesus the Word. You have His signs called Sacraments. Let these gifts from God sustain and strengthen you when times get rough, when illness and death strike. After all, Jesus comes to tell you, “You now live.” And, yes, you may really believe it. Amen.

Homily for Reformation Day (Observed) - 2019

"Pressing Forward Forcefully"
Matthew 11:12-19

When God sent His only-begotten Son into the world, it was like a commander-in-chief ordering the Navy Seals to make a first strike. When that first strike comes, you can be sure of two things. First, the battle is engaged. Second, the enemy will fight back.

Perhaps this mental picture can help us grasp Jesus’ perplexing words in our Gospel: “From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force.”

Jesus has just selected His twelve apostles. He has given them “authority over unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal every disease and every affliction” (Mt. 10:1). Then Jesus sent those twelve apostles out to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. Their mission? “Proclaim…, ‘The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, cast out demons’” (Mt. 10:7-8). Their promise from the Lord? “Everyone who acknowledges Me before men, I also will acknowledge before My Father who is in heaven” (Mt. 10:32). Jesus even tied their mission to His divine incursion: “Whoever receives you receives Me, and whoever receives Me receives Him who sent me” (Mt. 10:40). Now, you know the enemy—Satan and his minions—doesn’t much like such incursions into its tyrannical domain.

After instructing His twelve disciples, Jesus Himself went on preaching and teaching. He was continuing His divine first strike of invading enemy-held territory. After all, He came to rescue and restore it. Then comes the question from John the Baptist. It’s the story we hear in Advent. As John sits in prison and awaits his execution, he wonders if Jesus is in fact the Coming One—the Divine Invader—who comes to rescue all humanity, or if we should look for another. Keep your ears, your heart, and your mind focused on Jesus’ answer: “Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me” (Mt. 11:4-6). And you know the enemy doesn’t much like that!

Jesus then asks the crowds about John. What did they go out to see? Someone who swayed with the shifting winds of public opinion? Nope. Some softie dressed in nice clothes walking the halls of power? Nope. Instead, when John came, they saw none other than God’s own messenger sent to prepare the way for the Lord—for the Divine First-Strike Team in the flesh. “Yet the one who is least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than [John]” (Mt. 11:11).

This is what leads us to Jesus’ perplexing words about the kingdom “suffering violence.” What in the world is He talking about?!

When Jesus comes into the world, the world, the devil, and even our sinful flesh don’t like it much. Yet He still comes. And when He comes, the kingdom comes. Jesus, the kingdom of heaven incarnate, presses forward forcefully into this world—a world enslaved by sin, death, and devil. When He does, you know the battle is engaged…and you know the enemy fights back.

John the Baptist experienced violence for preparing the way of the Lord. Arrest. Prison. Even execution by losing his head. Jesus Himself experienced violent opposition. Repeated challenges to His preaching, teaching, and healing. False accusations. Kangaroo courts. Beatings and flogging. Betrayals by friends. Even the worst kind of capital punishment—being nailed to a tree and suffocating to death. And Jesus’ disciples could also expect violent opposition. How many of them later faced prisons and beatings and various forms of execution simply for preaching salvation by Christ alone?

But God’s kingdom—enfleshed in Jesus the Christ—keeps pressing forward forcefully. You see, Jesus Himself not only suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried, but He also descended into hell in victory. Then the third day He rose again from the dead. Then He ascended into heaven and now sits at the right hand of God the Father Almighty. He came to redeem us lost and condemned persons, purchased and won us from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil; not with silver and gold, but with His holy, precious blood and with His innocent suffering and death. To what end? That you and I may be His own and live under Him in His kingdom and serve Him in everlasting righteousness, innocence, and blessedness.

Mission accomplished! First strike successful!

Ever since the New Testament and through all these centuries, the kingdom continues pressing forward forcefully. And the enemy keeps on fighting against it. Now we come to the part about the violent taking it by force. Those violently opposed to Jesus and His saving, forgiving ways do indeed attack the Church. But this line can also be translated, “and forceful people snatch it.” (cf. Lenski)

It’s why the Church must always be reformed. She must always be called back to the saving work of Jesus. You see, the Church is really a heavenly city invading the earthly city. Conflict is inevitable. The earthly city always seeks to re-make the Church in its own image. “Don’t call out sin. Don’t judge. Don’t live by God’s Word. Instead, seek power. Instead, go along to get along.” It’s what Luther faced in his day. A Church that needed to be brought back to the saving work of Jesus. It’s what we face in our day. It’s what the Church faces in every age.

Here’s what we joyfully celebrate this Reformation Day. Jesus rescues us from sin and death by His grace alone. “If the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed” (Jn. 8:36). We receive this forgiveness of sins and new life through faith alone. “We hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law” (Rom. 3:28). The source of this emancipation proclamation is Scripture alone. “If you abide in My word,” Jesus said, “you will know the truth and the truth will set you free” (Jn. 8:31-32).

So how will you embrace—how will you snatch up—this Good News of your liberation from sin, death, and devil? Will it be with apathy and indifference? Or will it be with zest and eagerness? You see, Jesus—kingdom in the flesh—presses forward forcefully for and in you. He confronts you with your sin so that He may liberate you with His forgiveness. When you think you are the one who matters most, He disabuses you of that notion through repentance. When you are dead in your trespasses and sins, He gives you rebirth and new life in your Baptism. When you sin in thought, word, and deed, He powerfully grants you His cross-won Absolution through humble words. When you are weak and faint, He strengthens you with His very Body and Blood actually, truly and really present under bread and wine, actually, truly and really delivering His forgiveness and life to you.

That’s how forcefully your Lord presses forward to claim you and keep you as His own. He overcomes whatever doubts you may have. He liberates you from whatever mental, rational reservations you may have about His washing, His absolving, and His Meal. His kingdom with all its gifts, all its blessings and all its treasures gives you power and courage to snatch it, grab it, and cling to it all—to all the forgiveness, life, and salvation that He has achieved for you. You may zealously hold on for dear life. You may powerfully bear witness to this same Jesus who has freed you from sin, death and devil.

In 1521, Martin Luther was excommunicated for holding onto the powerful Gospel of Jesus Christ, rather than submitting to the violent opposition against it. Later that same year he appeared before the Diet of Worms and refused to recant his position of standing on Scripture alone. Then he was whisked away into hiding at the Wartburg Castle. When troubles arose in Wittenberg in early 1522, Luther came out of hiding to preach a series of sermons at the beginning of Lent. They’re called the “Invocavit Sermons.” In the second of these sermons Luther spoke of the power of God’s Word. What he said illustrates how the kingdom of Jesus powerfully presses forward:

“In short, I will preach it, teach it, write it, but I will constrain no man by force, for faith must come freely without compulsion. Take myself as an example. I opposed indulgences and all the papists, but never with force. I simply taught, preached, and wrote God’s Word; otherwise I did nothing. And while I slept, or drank Wittenberg beer with my friends Philip and Amsdorf, the Word so greatly weakened the papacy that no prince or emperor ever inflicted such losses upon it. I did nothing; the Word did everything. (Second Invocavit Sermon, 1522; AE 51:77)

The kingdom of heaven presses forward forcefully, and those liberated and enlivened by Him eagerly snatch up His treasures. Amen.

Homily for Re-Dedication of Sanctuary and Organ

"Making All Things New"
Revelation 21:1-5

Listen here.

Hope Lutheran Church, St. Louis, Missouri, USA (2019)

Flashback to 1931. The date was January 18. This space, its organ, in fact, the whole building were brand spanking new. What exhilaration, what excitement, everyone must have felt! Some of them remembered the small portable chapel of the early days. Many of them had worshiped in the basement chapel since 1922. But nine years later, they got to move into their new space—this space—and hear their new organ.

Theodore Steinmeyer, the architect of this building, wrote about the features of the building and this space. After explaining the many details, he concluded:

“This sanctuary is truly a shrine, before which one is brought to grace; where one may hear and meditate on God’s Word; pray and praise; [promise] one’s faith and love; and where one may long to be brought, when entering through it, as a gateway to the Heavenly Mansions above.” (Dedication booklet, 1931)

Fast-forward back to 2019. Today, July 28. This space and this organ are new once again. And here you are, feeling the exhilaration, the excitement. We did not worship in a portable chapel, but we have been in the basement—the catacombs!—for nine months. And now we move back into our new space. Now we hear our new organ. In fact, our organ is so new that it now has new-to-us pipes that were made in 1898, long before our original organ was even born. :-)

How fitting, then, what we hear from our gracious giver God in Revelation 21: “And He who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” Our God is a God of things new. His business, His will, His purpose, His mission in life, is making all things new.

We’re not talking “out with the old; in with the new” the way 21st century American culture does. Too many people think world history began the day they were born. Too many people assume that things of the past are, well, boring and tedious. Give us the future! Let us make our own new day! Why bother with all those old people and old notions of centuries past? When I was growing up, the “oldies station” played music from the ‘60s; now it plays the music I rather liked in the ‘80s and ‘90s. Oh, and you’re using that old smart phone? That is so last year! When we Americans think of something new, we think of something that was not there before. We think of something that has just appeared on the scene, whatever is most recent in history’s flowing river.

That’s not what God means when He says, “I am making all things new.” The Greek word indicates a newness in kind and quality. God makes all things “new” and distinctive, new in nature, different from the usual, superior in value.

The apostle John got a glimpse of God’s new things: “a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away.” John got to see beyond this fallen, broken creation. He got a preview of the perfect creation yet to come. You see, we all know this world—this first heaven and first earth—is tainted, imperfect, damaged, painful and broken. Tornados and earthquakes remind us of that, as do the cancer diagnosis, the shooting of an innocent girl, the strained relationship, the mob riot and so much more. But John got to see all of that—all the mess of sin and death—in the rear view mirror, passed away.

Then John adds this: “and the sea was no more.” Does that mean there will be no oceans or large bodies of water in the new heavens and new earth? Not likely. After all, in the first creation God did create the seas and all of the creatures that live and swim in them. He even called them good. After the Fall into sin, though, “the sea” comes to represent our real problem before God. “The sea” comes to stand for the deep chaos caused by sin—our sin. It stands for the fearful gulf that separates us human beings from God—the separation caused by our sin and our rebellion against Him.

That’s “the sea” that will not be in the new heavens and the new earth. When God makes all things new, He removes the deep, dark, chaotic gulf that separates us from Him. When “the sea” is gone, so is the fear, so is the terror, so is the pain that comes from being separated from our gracious giver God.

As John beholds this preview trailer of the new heavens and new earth, he also sees “the holy city, the new Jerusalem coming down out of heaven from God.” But this is not a plat of land with criss-crossing avenues or winding streets, with buildings of different designs, shapes and sizes. No, that’s so old-creation. This city, this new Jerusalem is dressed and adorned as a bride. And she is ready for her man, her husband, her Lord, her Savior. You see, He is the one who loved her and gave Himself up for her. By His death on the cross and His glorious resurrection, He has sanctified her; He has cleansed her by the washing of water with the word. He is the One  who adorns and beautifies her. He presents her to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish (cf. Eph. 5:25-27). This city is you—God’s redeemed, faithful people, the Bride of Christ, the Church. This is how God makes all things new.

Parsons, Opus 49

You see, “the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself will be with them as their God.” That’s really what we celebrate today—not just a new look, some new artwork, some new pipes and a new sound. We celebrate God dwelling with us fallen creatures. We celebrate God Himself—the Son of God—becoming flesh and dwelling among us full of grace and truth. We celebrate Him who sacrificed Himself at the great expense of His life’s blood. We celebrate that He gives the unending treasure and joy of life with Him in His new creation. We celebrate that we may look forward to that new heavens and new earth.

We certainly thank our gracious giver God for the ability to renovate our organ and sanctuary. What a gift! But let’s thank Him even more for His renovation of the universe through His Son. Let’s thank Him even more for His renovation of us through Jesus’ blood. After all, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain anymore.” All the tears, all the disappointments, all the hurts, all the sins—either done by us or done to us—He will wipe away. All the loss, all the sadness, all the death, all the grief—He will erase and delete forever.

“Behold, I am making all things new,” the Father says from His throne. The Son accomplished this newness on His cross. The Spirit breathes this newness into you—when you are baptized, when you hear words of Absolution, when you eat and drink Jesus’ very Body and Blood. All this gives eager anticipation and fervent hope.

This hope is what our space and organ proclaim. Yes, they also preach our Savior making all things new. When we enter, we cannot miss the font. Baptism is our entry into Jesus and His Church, our entry into this new life of hope, this journey of life with Him all the way to eternity. As we go from font to altar, the images point the way to the new Jerusalem, the new creation:

• An empty ark after its occupants entered a post-flood new world;
• God’s rescued people crossing the Jordan River into the Promised land;
• Water turned into the bountiful best wine of our Savior’s new creation;
• Five lit lamps of five wise virgins as they wait for Him and get to be included in His cross-won wedding feast;
• Our Savior’s promised return on the cloud when the trumpet blasts;
• The great multitude gathered around His throne in the new heavens and new earth;
• The new Jerusalem, the tree of life, the river of life, all provided by the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world and gives us His life;
• And, finally, the Lamb and His bride, the Church, consummating their union with the grandest wedding banquet ever.

Wedding Banquet of the Lamb and His Bride, the Church

At this end of the space, we come to the throne of the Holy Trinity, the holy of holies of the Alpha and Omega Himself. We gather to hear Him in His Word and feast on Him in His Supper. Here we get a foretaste of the feast to come. Here we are made new over and over again. Here we enter heaven on earth. Here Jesus is the vine, we are the branches, and He bears His new fruit in and through us. Here He renews us time and again until we get to see what John saw.

And the organ! What a day to dedicate a newly renovated organ—this day when the Church remembers Johann Sebastian Bach. And the prayer for remembering Kantor Bach expresses joy that we on earth may glimpse the beauty and richness of our Lord’s new creation through music.  So in this organ, old pipes refitted to sing better. Other pipes added to increase the chorus. All pipes rearranged and repositioned to blend their voices to greater effect. Did you know pipes have mouths and voices? Those mouths and voices serve and aid your mouths and voices to sing our Lord’s new song. “For He has done marvelous things! His right hand and His holy arm have worked salvation for Him” (Ps. 98:1). Whether we sing or listen as the organ sounds waft around us, we are drawn to our Lord who makes all things new. After all, music in a sacred space is new and distinctive, different from the usual. With it we learn to thank the Lord and sing His praise. With it we have hope all our days. With it our Lord prepares us for His new heavens and new earth.

Brothers and sisters of Hope, welcome home! How exciting to be back in our sacred space and hear our organ! To our other brothers and sisters with us today: thank you for joining in our joy. Thank you for your prayers, your support, and blending your voices with ours. While the new sights and sounds exhilarate us now, let’s all remember this: we haven’t seen or heard anything yet. Just wait until we get to see and hear our Lord’s  renovated heaven and earth! Amen.

Homily for Lent 3 Evening Prayer (2019)

"A God Exposed"
Genesis 3:7-21; John 19:1-5, 23-24

With complete credit and much appreciation to Rev. Jeff Hemmer and Concordia Publishing House's "Behold the Man!" Lenten series, and with slight revisions for my proclamation.

How things have changed. Naked once meant “innocent, selfless, and perfect.” The man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed, Genesis 2 tells us. Shame is different from guilt. Shame includes an unhealthy preoccupation with oneself. It makes sense that Adam and his wife were unashamed even though they were naked. After all, they did not have that level of self-awareness that comes from sinful, selfish navel-gazing. But then, as soon as they sinned, their eyes were opened to a new reality. Sure, they knew good and evil, that knowledge their Creator had withheld purely for their good. But now they see that they are naked. Exposed. Vulnerable. And when their eyes turn toward themselves for the first time, they are ashamed. “Look at me,” Adam thinks. “Look at me,” his wife muses. But each of them is too preoccupied with himself or herself to notice the nakedness of the other. Sin does exactly that; it curves our gaze in on ourselves.

What could they do? Hide themselves, they hoped. Fig leaves hastily stitched together, before they fled from their Creator into the garden, were their garments of choice. But fig leaves cannot hide sin and guilt. So, after God exposes the couple in their ashamed hiding, gets them to acknowledge (though not confess) their sins, and doles out the curses to the two and the serpent, He then upgrades their wardrobes from bloodless fig leaves to garments made from skin. And they quickly learn that God was not wrong when He had threatened death the very moment they ate from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But He mercifully stayed their executions by shedding the blood of some innocent animal, an animal whose skin would cover the sin and shame of the man and woman. Their nakedness would be covered at the cost of an even deeper nakedness. After all, what could be more exposed than an animal stripped of its skin? And so the first death, the first bloodshed, happened at the hands of the Creator Himself. God granted these rebels the luxury of hiding their shame behind the innocence of another creature.

You never want to admit it, but this is the true nature of sin—your sin. Instead, you want to hide it behind pious-seeming fig leaves, but fig leaves cannot do the job. No matter what you do to delete your browsing history, you cannot hide your shame or obscure your guilt from the eyes of an all-knowing God. No matter how you try to couch your gossip in thinly veiled requests to “pray for her,” those words remain reputation-damaging slander against your neighbor, and they render you guilty before a Holy God. Even if you call it “just getting what’s rightfully yours,” it’s still greed. Excuses for why you can’t make it to the week-after-week Sunday morning Divine Service don’t allow you to receive the gifts that God delivers there. And those excuses cannot hide your sin. Claiming “Everyone else is doing it” is a very flimsy fig leaf. Repent of these and all other fig-leaf attempts to hide your sin and trick yourself into thinking that you are blameless.

Sin can only be covered with skin.

No one knows what that animal was in the garden, the one whose innocent skin the Creator peeled away in order to hide the exposed, vulnerable parts of Adam and his wife. But, given how immature offspring of sheep are often selected to be sacrifices on Passover, in the tabernacle, in the temple, it might be a good guess that the first animal to die, flayed to fend off death for mankind, was a lamb.

“Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,” John the Baptist proclaimed about Jesus (John 1:29). Behold, the fulfillment of every lamb with its throat slit and its blood spilt to render it a sacrifice in the temple. Behold, the fulfillment of every Passover lamb roasted and completely consumed the night before God brought His people out of slavery. Behold, the Lamb who is not actually a lamb but a man. Behold God with skin.

Behold the man scourged by the Roman soldiers with their evil flagrum, designed to shred the skin from the back and sides of the person whipped, tearing away flesh so deep that the internal organs are nearly exposed. Behold the man on whose head the soldiers pressed the crown woven of thorns to ridicule Him as a madman for His belief in being King. Behold the man on whom they drape a soldier’s dirty purple robe to intensify the joke. Behold the man whom Pilate brought forth to say, “This is no king!” Here is God, with skin, clothed in the mockery of sinful men.

Behold the man who, when He was nailed to the cross, was stripped naked. Behold the man whose clothes the soldiers divided amongst themselves. Behold the man whose seamless tunic was the prize for which the godless gambled. Behold the man, God with skin, whose skin is shamefully exposed for all passersby to mock. Behold the bare naked God.

Behold the man who will bear your sin and shame. Behold the man who will suffer in your place. Behold the man whose nakedness answers for Adam’s. Behold the man naked and unashamed, with nothing to hide, with no sin of His own to clothe in garments and rationalization. Behold the man stripped bare to bear your own sins. All of them. The ones you try to hide and obscure, the ones you pretend are not there, the ones that cause you the greatest shame. All of them hang there on the cross with this man, this God, Jesus, naked and dying for you.

Behold the man, stripped naked so He might clothe you in new skin. Behold the man who will hide your sin with His own righteousness. Behold the man who gives you Himself to wear. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. Behold the man in whose washing of Holy Baptism you are clothed in the boundless perfection of His own righteousness. Behold the man who covers your sin with His own skin. Wear His garment. Wear Him. Your sin is gone. Your shame is removed. Your guilt is dissipated. Behold the man! Amen.

Homily for Lent 3 - Oculi (2019)

"Victory in Mercy"
Luke 11:14-28

Jesus is no milquetoast, panty waste deity. He most certainly is merciful, but He is far from meek and mild Mr. Nice Guy. He absolutely is compassionate, but not in a wimpy, moisten-your-finger-and-stick-it-in-the-air sort of way. No, Jesus comes to fight. He comes to kick some tail. He comes to win the war and divide the spoils. He comes to be the manly Messiah, the soldier Savior. He comes to take away the armor of strongman Satan and divide his spoil. As Luther wrote in his Large Catechism, “Jesus Christ, the Lord of life, righteousness, and every good and blessing…has snatched us, poor lost creatures, from the jaws of hell, won us, made us free, and restored us to the Father’s favor and grace” (LC II:30).

I suppose that’s what makes Jesus such a polarizing figure. You see, there is no neutral position in relation to Jesus. Whoever is not with Him is against Him. Whoever does not gather with Him scatters. No middle ground. No compromise. No shades of grey. No “Let’s wait and see” or “The jury’s still out.”

Ask the crowd who watched Jesus cast a demon out of the mute man. Some of them thought and even said, “He casts out demons by Beelzebul”—by “prince Baal.” Really? The prince of demons casting out his own demons, his own soldiers? Jesus did not back down. He pushed back. “Every kingdom divided against itself is laid waste, and a divided household falls.” Not only that, Jesus also pushed back in a more personal way, to show them their folly. “If I cast out demons by and with the help of ‘prince Baal,’ then by whom do your own religious leaders cast them out?” Hmm? What do you have to say for yourselves? Your own beloved religious leaders—they cast out demons too, remember—they will be your judges. There’s no neutral position in relation to Jesus. You’re either with Him or against Him.

Now, if you’re with Him, you will realize that it’s by “the finger of God” that He casts out demons. That’s the same finger He used to thwart and flummox the magicians back in Egypt. Through Aaron’s staff God brought pesky gnats out of the Egyptian dust, but the magicians could not replicate this one. They had to admit that this was God’s finger at work—a mighty finger that shows God is no “Mr. Nice Guy” when it comes to combating Satan and overcoming his tyranny over us poor lost creatures.

You see, Satan is the strongman whom Jesus mentions. And if Jesus casts out demons by the finger of God, He is the “one stronger” who “attacks [the strong man] and overcomes him.” Remember, this is the same Jesus who had already taken on and defeated the tempter in the wilderness. This is the very Suffering Servant promised by Isaiah (53:12)—the One who will pour out His soul to death and thus divide the spoils of victory with the strong. So you’re either with Jesus in His victory over strongman Satan, or you’re still under the deceiver’s tyranny and chained up in his dungeon. There’s no neutral position, no in-between neutral zone.

How do you get from Satan’s camp of tyranny into the camp of our victorious Savior? Jesus Himself overcomes the strongman ultimately, finally, and once for all when He goes to the cross. Yes, that whole event appeared to everyone, especially strongman Satan, as the weakest of all weaknesses. What a foolish way to win a cosmic war—by dying! I mean, what “stronger man” would let himself be betrayed, beaten, falsely convicted, tortured, and nailed to a tree? How can a soldier who dies in battle claim victory over the enemy who slew him?

Only by God’s wisdom and mercy, of course! God’s glory is always to have mercy, and He shows it on a cross. This message of victory through a cross is “folly to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God…. It pleased God through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe…. For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men” (1 Cor. 1: 18, 21, 25). That victory was won on a cross, when our Lord disarmed the old evil foe. Then it was put on glorious display when our “stronger man” Savior rose from the grave—when our Savior divided the spoil of life for all.

And how do you claim this victory? How do you get your share of the spoils? Actually, you cannot “name it and claim it.” That’s impossible. Jesus’ victory, and being in Jesus’ camp, is complete, pure gift—undeserved, unearned, sheer mercy. Enter Holy Baptism. That’s when and where God qualifies you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. That’s when and where He applies the spoils of Jesus’ victory to you, delivering you from the domain of darkness and transferring you into the kingdom of His beloved Son. That’s when and where you receive redemption, the forgiveness of sins (cf. Col. 1:12-14).

And we witness another dividing of spoils this morning. Little Elinor Victoria has now been forgiven all her sins—past, present, and future. She has now been rescued from death and the devil. She has now received eternal salvation. What a glorious coup over strongman Satan! The wily serpent thought Elinor belonged to him from the moment she was conceived. And she did. We all did, until Jesus worked His victory in mercy for us through water and Word and thus divided the spoils to give us peace and hope. Even little ones born to Christian parents are conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity (cf. Ps. 51:5). Sure, they may have the benefit of hearing the Word of God from faithful mommies and daddies, both in the womb and after their birth. But they still need Jesus’ victory given to them and the spoils of life applied to them in the drowning and rising at the font. This is God’s own chosen, ordinary way of sweeping clean the house of every human soul.

So little Elinor Victoria becomes our role model—for all of us. “Whoever does not receive the kingdom of God as a little child will by no means enter it” (Mk. 10:16, NKJV). Let all of us little children thus receive Jesus and His victory in mercy. And Elinor’s name even teaches this to us. Mom and Dad embraced the first name from the character Elinor in Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. Godparents got to put in their suggestions for the middle name. (Nice way to be part of the child’s life!) But let’s dig for the meanings. “Victoria”—the middle name—of course speaks of victory. And what of “Elinor”? It actually finds its roots in the Greek word eleos—mercy. So my granddaughter’s name, in translation, is “Mercy Victory,” or “Merciful Victory,” or, to fit with our theme, “Victory in Mercy.” It’s God’s mercy that gave her in the first place. It’s even more God’s mercy that she now gets to share in Jesus’ victory over strongman Satan.

Because of that victory—won on a cross and delivered through water and Word—her soul and your soul are “swept and put in order.” The crucial question now is: will her soul, as well your soul, remain swept and in order, or will it stand vacant, thus allowing the demon and his seven vagrant buddies to move back in and vandalize it again? Take Jesus’ beatitude in our text to heart: “Blessed...are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” That’s the only way to remain swept and put in order in Jesus’ merciful victory over “prince Baal.” It’s not just being in the Word; it’s having the Word being put in you—by means of words, and water, and bread and wine. It’s the only way to be imitators of God, as beloved children. It’s the only way to walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave Himself up for us. It’s the only way—for Elinor and for the rest of us—to be a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.

So “Give thanks to the LORD, for He is good, for His steadfast love endures forever” (Ps. 136:1). In mercy our stronger man Savior has won the victory, snatching us from the jaws of hell, winning us back to Himself, making us free, and restoring us to the Father’s favor and grace. Amen.

Homily for Lent 1 Evening Prayer (2019)

"A God Who Prays"
Hebrews 7:20-28; John 17

With complete credit and much appreciation to Rev. Jeff Hemmer and Concordia Publishing House's "Behold the Man!" Lenten series, and with slight revisions for my proclamation.

It must have been quite a sight—Aaron, the new high priest, in his vestments. I wonder if the Israelites protested at the elaborate details and the exorbitant expense of making vestments for Aaron. Did they have to scuttle the plans until the voters could approve of the design and the expense? Did they put it out for bids to see if someone had a stash of pure gold or blue dye so that they might come in under budget, and then put the rest in an CD with LCEF? “I don’t know why one priest needs to be dressed in something way more elaborate and costly than anything we ourselves wear. Does Aaron think he’s better than we are?” “When my grandkids became priests in Egypt, they had to save up all their own money to purchase vestments; no congregation was buying those for them!” “I don’t see why we have to use all this gold; tin would look almost as nice and for a tenth of the price!”

However, when God commanded the vestments Aaron would wear as he was consecrated high priest, His orders were strangely particular. First the ephod, made of gold, with two gold shoulder pieces, each with an engraved onyx stone with six names of the sons of Israel on it, joined together with blue and scarlet yarns and fine linen. Second the breastpiece, matching the ephod, of gold, with blue and scarlet yarns and fine linens, with twelve different stones set in gold settings, and two gold rings to attach it to the ephod. Then, the robe, all blue, with blue, purple and scarlet pomegranates on the hem, interspersed with golden bells. Next, the engraved gold plate attached with a blue cord to the front of Aaron’s turban. Finally, a cloak, the turban, and a sash of fine needlework. All these Aaron is to wear so that when he presides as high priest, he does not die. (see Exodus 28:6–39). Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be Israelite high priests!

It’s hard to discern the spiritual meaning of such apparel. Clothing is unavoidably physical. And yet, despite the beauty of those vestments, no matter how real the priesthood of Aaron, his sons, and the Levites, they were merely shadows of something more real, of a more permanent priesthood, of a High Priest who serves eternally. Aaron’s vestments, like a pastor’s vestments, are a sign of the beauty of the office he occupies—an office that does not truly belong to him. He merely stands in between God and His people. The vestments do not signify Aaron or the pastor; they signify Christ. The office is beautiful because of Christ, no matter the ugliness or lack of good taste of the men in the office.

Aaron is no longer the one to intercede between God and men. Nor am I. But behold the man! There is One who intercedes, One who is a Priest forever, after the order of Melchizedek, the priestly King of righteousness. Behold the man who is also God—He intercedes for men before God. Behold God who has become man and who, as man, intercedes for us men.

Who wants an intercessor, a priest, a go-between, though? A go-between implies you are insufficient for the task of getting yourself to God. An intercessor implies that you cannot climb the ladder of heaven to plead your own case. Jesus taking on human flesh to be an eternal Priest between men and God implies that you, on your own, are not good enough. You need someone else to take up your case. Behold the man!

Because, if you’re honest with yourself, you are not good enough. Who seeks for God as he should? Whose thoughts are undistracted in prayer? Whose hatred for—okay, call it annoyance with—his brother does not interfere with his prayer? Who loves God perfectly enough to be able to approach Him in prayer? Who keeps the Sabbath perfectly, hears the Word of God gladly and regularly? Who uses the name of God correctly, never letting an “Oh, my God” slip when things don’t go according to plan? And who calls upon that name regularly? Who? No one. Well, at least not you. You are a sorry excuse for your own priest. So behold the man!

Jesus is the perfect High Priest. Sinful mankind cannot approach a holy God. We need someone to take our place, someone to plead our case. Behold the man! Jesus has taken your flesh. He will take up your cause before His heavenly Father. Behold the man! In Jesus, God has a voice that He can raise before the Father. He has hands He can fold in prayer. He has a head He can bow correctly and reverently. Behold the man who prays perfectly. Behold the High Priest whose office, whose role, is to pray for you. Behold the man who prays for you without ceasing.

Jesus has hands to raise in prayer. He has eyes so that He can lift them up. He has lips that can shape sounds and syllables. He has vocal cords that can craft words His Father will hear. He is man so that He can intercede for men. And for what does He pray? For His disciples. For His Church. For you. Because sinners cannot approach a holy God, Jesus intercedes. Because rebellious man’s petitions will fall on deaf ears, the only obedient Son of God has taken flesh in order to pray for you, to give voice to your prayers, to pray for you.

Since you cannot keep yourself from sin, from idolatry, from rebellion, Jesus prays that the Father would keep you: that He would keep you in His name put upon you in the waters of Holy Baptism; that He would keep you from the evil one, as we ask in the Lord’s Prayer. Jesus, as perfect God and man in one person prays for you. Behold the man who prays for you constantly before His heavenly Father.

So, in Jesus, who prays for you without end, you are no longer rebels against your heavenly Father. You are no longer sinful aliens. You are no longer unable to bend the Father’s ear with your petitions. You are in Jesus, and Jesus prays perfectly. And your prayers are perfect, not because you pray regularly or correctly or even that well, but because you are in Jesus. Because Jesus lifts up His hands perfectly in prayer, so do you. Because Jesus lifts up His eyes perfectly in prayer, so do you. Because Jesus’ voice is perfectly attuned for prayer, so is yours. Because Jesus is the man who intercedes for the rest of mankind, you have hope. You have a Lord who prays for you. You have a man who redeems men. You have the God who became man for you. You have a Savior. You have the man on the cross. Behold the man, the Priest who bids you to pray and who prays for you without ceasing. Amen.

Homily for Lent 1 - Invocabit (2019)

Victory Over Temptation
Matthew 4:1-11

Satan tempts and tests Jesus, but Jesus wins the eternal victory over all temptation. For you! Today’s episode in the life of Jesus replays and reverses the temptation of our first parents in paradise. There the tempter enticed Eve with the forbidden fruit and the prospect of being “like God.” Eve “saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was a delight to the eyes, and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise” (Gen. 3:6). Adam and Eve both gave in to the temptation to be more spiritual than physical, attempted to be “like God,” and plunged God’s good world into sin, chaos, unbelief, despair, and death.

But our Lord Jesus Christ, true God, begotten of the Father from eternity, and also true Man, born of the Virgin Mary, came to reverse this Fall. He came to do battle with Satan, win back God’s creation, and restore you to life with God. On this First Sunday in Lent, we see two powerful princes engaging each other in battle. It’s the prince of this world vs. the King of heaven. They engage in a brutal battle over you, your life, and your soul. Today we see how Jesus wins the victory over sin, temptation, and the devil for you.

Each of us must endure a variety of temptations. Some may be easy to resist, but others hold you as captive as a prisoner of war. And those temptations wear down your resistance until finally you break down and give in. So, as we begin the season of Lent, here’s your invitation to enroll in Jesus’ school for training warriors. Today you are beginners as you battle your temptations, but come Easter you will be victorious, without any merit or worthiness in you.

In this lifelong struggle against temptations we learn to pray: “Lead us not into temptation.” And you know what this means: “God tempts no one. We pray in this petition that God would guard and keep us so that the devil, the world, and our sinful nature may not deceive us or mislead us into false belief, despair, and other great shame and vice. Although we are attacked by these things, we pray that we may finally over come them and win the victory.”

We constantly fight against three things. As Luther said in the Large Catechism: “Temptation…is of three kinds: of the flesh, the world, and the devil.” (LC III:101). What kinds of temptations bedevil us under these headings?

First, Luther says, “We live in the flesh and carry the old creature around our necks; it goes to work and lures us daily into unchastity, laziness, gluttony and drunkenness, greed and deceit, into acts of fraud and deception against our neighbor…. All this often wounds and inflames even an innocent heart.” (LC, III:102)

How does this play out in your life? Yes, you have “the old creature” hanging around your neck. Day by day, hour by hour that little sinner that lives inside you lures you into many sins. You may be lazy as you spend countless hours in front of the TV or keeping up with Facebook. You may get up and go to work with frustration raging in your heart or fatigue grinding you to the bone. Maybe you have one too many drinks after dinner, or maybe your gluttony shows in eating more than you need, or buying those new clothes just because they’re “in” this year.

Just as our sinful nature tempts us, the world also entices us. Luther says the world “assails us by word and deed and drives us to anger and impatience. In short, there is in it nothing but hatred and envy, enmity, violence and injustice, perfidy, vengeance, cursing, reviling, slander, arrogance, and pride, along with fondness for luxury, honor, fame, and power. For no one is willing to be the least, but everyone wants to sit on top and be seen by all.” (LC, III:103)

Sounds like Luther is describing the politicians, the pundits, the Hollywood elites, and many others in news stories of our day! The world despises you because you love and confess Jesus. The world would much rather teach you to follow your own pride and seek your own fame. And, like little pieces of filet mignon, you and I baste in the poisonous juices of this proud, arrogant, evil, corrupt world. You are constantly tempted to get along with the world, and most of the time that means downplaying your faith and confession of Christ. It’s often expressed in the slogan, “Can’t we all just get along?” when people want to downplay religious differences and keep Jesus on the sideline of life.

The third way we are tempted, Luther says, is by the devil himself. “Then comes the devil, who baits and badgers us on all sides, but especially exerts himself where the conscience and spiritual matters are concerned. His purpose is to make us scorn and despise both the Word and the works of God, to tear us away from faith, hope, and love, to draw us into unbelief, false security, and stubbornness, or, on the contrary, to drive us to despair, denial of God, blasphemy, and countless other abominable sins.” (LC, III:104).

Whenever you are tempted to think and feel that God is not good—even unfair—you can be sure that the devil is firing his assault rifles at you. Whenever you treat God’s Word lightly and think that you really don’t need to read and study it at home, the devil is trapping you in his minefield. Whenever you flex your spiritual muscles and think that you don’t need to confess your specific sins—to God or privately to your pastor—the devil has made a successful strike to keep you from enjoying Jesus and His blood-bought forgiveness. Remember what St. Peter said: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” (1 Pet. 5:8).

Temptations all around, some like hidden terrorist snipers and others like suicide car bombers causing as much damage as they can! “As long as we remain in this vile life, we are attacked, hunted, and harried on all sides.” (LC, III:105)

But don’t despair! Let today’s Gospel of Jesus conquering temptation give you comfort, joy, and hope. Satan entices hungry Jesus with food, but Jesus relies on “every word that comes from the mouth of God.” When Satan uses God’s Word to lure Jesus into showing off His trust in God, Jesus refuses to test the Lord His God. And then Satan tempts Jesus with immediate success in His mission of saving the world, but Jesus refuses to misplace His worship. “You shall worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve.”

Notice how Jesus resisted the devil simply by using God’s Word. You too can resist Satan and His hellish temptations by hearing, reading, marking, learning and taking God’s Word to heart. The more you cling to God in His Word, the more your Lord Jesus arms and equips you in this battle. “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm.” (Eph. 6:12-13)

But Jesus does more than just give you good strategies for defeating the devil. He actually wins the victory for you and in your place. Not only does He win the temptation battle in the wilderness, but He also wins the whole cosmic war by agonizing and bleeding and suffocating on the cross. You don’t need to give in to Satan’s hollow, empty promises, because Jesus is your daily bread, His victory is your success, and He does reign over the whole world by His cross-won grace and mercy.

So today Jesus draws you to God’s Word as God’s food. As you hear the Gospel you are strengthened to resist temptations and you are forgiven when you fall. Through the washing of your Baptism you are made the “sons of God,” and that strengthens you to deflect the doubts that Satan would try to sow in you. And through Christ’s Body and Blood on the altar, you are nourished and fortified to trust His forgiveness and resist all temptations.

Luther said, “We Christians must be armed and expect every day to be under continuous attack.” (LC, III:109) He also said, “We cannot prevent the birds from flying over our heads, but we can prevent them from building nests in our hair.” Your Lord and Savior Jesus Christ has conquered the old satanic foe for you. When you pray to God that you may finally overcome temptations and win the victory, remember that Jesus has already answered your prayer. In His gory, bloody death, He won the eternal victory for you. In His life-giving, soul-strengthening water, Word, and meal, He sustains you in His victory over temptation. Amen.

Homily for Ash Wednesday (2019)

"A God Who Hungers"
Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21

With complete credit and much appreciation to Rev. Jeff Hemmer and Concordia Publishing House's "Behold the Man!" Lenten series, and with slight revisions for my proclamation.

“When you fast,” Jesus says, “do not be like the hypocrites.” Not if, but when you fast. And this from the Sermon on the Mount—everyone’s favorite good teachings from Jesus that they’ve never read. Because once you read it, you realize Jesus isn’t a good teacher. He’s an unyielding taskmaster. Sure, the Beatitudes are nice. Maybe. Until He starts talking about persecutions. But then He warns His disciples not to relax the Law by even one tiny dot. Instead, Jesus ratchets up the Law—“You have heard that it was said…but I say to you.” That leaves you and everyone else slack-jawed and stupefied. What a legalist! What a hard-nosed dictator with the Commandments! And then Jesus’ punchline: “You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). That’s what precedes “when you give to the needy…when you pray…when you fast.” Do not be like the hypocrites.

You can get behind prayer. Maybe even giving to the poor. But fasting? It’s just weird. It seems too physical to be spiritual. It’s too concerned with what you eat—or don’t eat—to be a Christian activity. Weight Watchers clients, yes. Christians, no. Not Lutheran Christians, anyway. Not people liberated from the Law, basking in the glorious freedom of the Gospel. Not people liberated from the works-righteous, earn-your-ticket-to-paradise Roman Catholics with their fish fries and their days of fasting.

And yet, “when you fast,” Jesus said. Later in Matthew’s account, the disciples of John the Baptist came to Jesus to ask why they fasted and the Pharisees fasted but Jesus’ disciples did not fast. Jesus answered, “Can the wedding guests mourn as long as the bridegroom is with them? The days will come when the bridegroom is taken away from them, and then they will fast” (9:15). Then they will fast. After Jesus the Bridegroom is taken away. As in now. “When you fast,” Jesus said.

Fasting, oddly enough, involves hunger. Stumbling out of the Knights of Columbus hall after cramming fried cod and French fries into your gullet, buzzed on Coors Lite, is the opposite of fasting. Fasting means abstaining—not just from diet sodas or chocolate bars for forty days, but from food. Properly done, fasting leaves your belly grumbling and aching for just a morsel. This is why fasting seems too physical. What does a rumbling belly have to do with your piety, with your Christian devotion?

“Behold the man!”; Jesus, the God-man. Before the jeering crowd, Pontius Pilate trotted out a freshly flogged Jesus wearing a crown meant to inflict suffering and a faux-royal robe intended to invite ridicule. As he did this, Pilate preached an unintentional, yet profound, sermon: “Behold the man!” (John 19:5). We’ll take that advice. We’ll do just that this season of Lent: “Behold the man!”

In Jesus, God is man. The Word has become flesh. Like you. God is your Brother. The One begotten of the Father from all eternity is now the One born of the Virgin Mary. And your Lord. Behold the man! Just like you, He has skin and bones, blood vessels and lymph nodes, teeth and hair, heart and lungs, blood and saliva, hands, feet, eyes, lips, tongue, stomach, spleen, and epiglottis. Behold the man! He eats. He breathes. He walks. He sleeps. He prays. He weeps. He laughs. He bleeds. He dies. He rises. He ascends. He sits. And He will come. He is completely human and completely divine, two perfect natures in one indivisible person. He has fingerprints and DNA. Behold the man, Jesus, your Brother.

Unlike you, though, He has no sin. His human nature is perfect, unspoiled by Adam’s rebellion. Because of sin, you are subhuman. But not Jesus. Oh, He was tempted in every way, just as you are, yet He is without sin. His desires were never distorted into lust, greed, coveting, or idolatry. Behold the man! Like unblemished Adam at the close of day six of creation, when God declared His handiwork “very good,” Jesus is as human as human can be, as human as He intends to make you in the resurrection.

So why fasting? Behold the man! Jesus fasted. The Gospel for this coming Sunday places Jesus in the wilderness, after His Baptism, fasting for forty days, being tempted by the devil. This is not the faux fasting of feasting on fried fish or giving up some pet vice for just a season. For forty days, Jesus ate nothing. Matthew and Luke simply report that He was hungry. You don’t say!

Actually, it should not surprise us that God hasn’t eaten for forty days. Eating is not something natural to God. But, behold the man! Behold the God who took human flesh in the virgin womb of a Jewish girl. Behold the unborn baby, being nourished for nine months in His temporary, earthly throne room. Behold the crying infant, rooting for the breast to fill his newborn stomach. Behold the toddler to whom His parents introduced new foods, all of which He had created. Behold the boy, eating the Passover lamb with His extended family. Behold the man, God in human flesh, who needs to eat in order to live. And now, behold the man, who has not eaten for 40 days—that’s 960 hours, or 57,600 minutes. And you were thinking the time since your last snack was growing a little long.

Behold the man, the incarnate God, with lips, teeth, tongue, and taste buds that have not savored a morsel for forty days. With an esophagus, stomach, and intestines that have been empty and aching for forty days. Behold the man who fasts for you. The First Adam sinned by eating. The Second Adam will fast before enduring an onslaught of temptation, and withstanding every one. Behold the man who fasts and who assumes His disciples will also fast.

Like fasting, Lent is weird. Who has time or patience for a season of repentance, for subdued joy, for bottling up our “Alleluias” until we can uncork them and get punch drunk with Easter jubilation? Who wants to explain to the Wednesday-evening pinochle club that they won’t be around for the next six weeks? Who wants to give away more money to the poor from their already penny-pinched budget? Who wants to devote more time for prayer from their way-too-busy schedule? Yes, Lent is weird.

Like fasting, Lent is also oddly physical. Germans call this penitential season before Easter Fastenzeit, literally “fasting time.” The disciplines of Lent—prayer, fasting, and almsgiving—are designed to guard you against that age-old temptation of being too spiritual. That temptation is as old as creation. When the serpent seduced Adam and his wife to give in to the spiritual desire to be like God, knowing good and evil, over the physical prohibition against eating from that one tree, they set the pattern for the rest of us. We, too, prefer the spiritual over the material. After God settled the Israelites in the Promised Land, they quickly abandoned the very physical worship of Yahweh alone. They traded the earthy sacrifices offered in the Jerusalem temple for the more spiritual, less-precise worship of the Baals and the Asherah. And Nicodemus cracked a joke that true religion could never be so physical as to involve rebirth. And the Sadducees concocted their ridiculous story about the woman who married one of seven brothers to prove that physical resurrection is impossible. And your children insist that they are spiritual but not religious. And you give your “amen” when your friends tell you, “You don’t have to go to church to be a Christian.” All of that is an attempt to substitute safer, spiritual platitudes for real, physical, fleshly realities. And it’s all sin.

Give up your pious, hyper-spiritual pretensions. God is not like that. The incarnation has been His plan from before the first words of creation. Behold the man! You have a body and you have the complete inability to use it properly, as your Creator intended. But in Jesus, you have hope. Here is your God: a man, your Brother. Behold the man!

Jesus fasted. For you. He is a God who can eat—who needs to eat—so that He can abstain from eating, and endure the pains of hunger to deny His flesh what it desires. For you. For your tendency to prefer the spiritual over the physical, for your fake spirituality that leads you to indulge the flesh with its desires, both good and evil. Jesus endured temptation and never sinned, so that He could be the man to redeem all other men, the Creator who would ransom His creatures, God who could give His life for sinners, for you.

So fast freely. Fast to discipline and chasten your flesh. Fast so that you learn to control your belly. That will give you discipline to control the other parts of your flesh as well. Fast and let the rumbling of hunger teach you that your belly is not your God. Pray until you realize that your schedule is not your God, your time is not your own, and your daily bread does not come from the work of your own hands. Give alms, tithe, give offerings, and give money until you know down in your gut that money is not the source of your security or happiness. Behold the man who fasted, who prayed, and who gave alms perfectly for you. His rumbling stomach, His hunger pangs, are your comfort in temptation. His flesh is your hope. Where you have failed, He succeeded. Behold the man!

And then break the fast. Eat and drink at His altar. Eat and drink His Body and Blood veiled in bread and wine for the forgiveness of your sins. Behold the man, with His flesh as true food and His blood as true drink! Let the growling of your belly in Lent and anytime lead you here, to the place where the Lord bids you to fast and hunger no more. Here is food that endures to eternal life, drink that quenches your deepest thirst. Here at His altar is the man who gives Himself for you to eat and to drink for the forgiveness of your sins, for the strengthening of your faith, for the enabling of your fervent love for one another, for the salvation of your flesh. In bread, in wine, behold the man! Amen.