Circuit Lent Series: The Words from the Cross
“Behold, your Mother” (St. John 19:25–27)
St. Matthew 6:1–6, 16–21
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
I personally think this is one of the most touching scenes in the Gospels. I think it’s also the one time when I actually imagine the scene from Jesus’ perspective. Hanging on the cross, looking down at the people standing by, many are laughing at Him, some are crying. And there, at His feet, eyes looking up at Him, tears running down their faces: Mary, His Mother, and John, His disciple.
Several times, John, the author of this Gospel, identifies himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved. This doesn’t mean Jesus loved John more than the others, but that John chose to identify himself based on Jesus’ love for him, rather than his love for Jesus. What a wonderful way for all of us Christians to think: I am someone whom Jesus loves. Although, there may also have been some special bond of brotherly affection between Jesus and John, because Jesus entrusts His Mother to John’s care. Now also imagine how John felt, watching his friend, his teacher, his Lord, dying before his eyes, the life literally draining out of Him as the blood dripped down. Perhaps only a soldier who has held his comrade in his arms while he died, knows what this is really like.
And then there’s Mary—the most blessed among women (Luke 1:42)—the humble girl chosen by grace to become the Mother of God. She’s older now, and she can barely stand for grief, leaning on John’s arm, looking at the little Boy she bore and nursed; the young Man she taught and watched as He learned from His step-father Joseph; the Man she knew as her King, but still the little Boy who used to sit on her lap. And the forehead she used to kiss is now crowned with thorns. The hands she used to hold are pierced through with nails. Her very soul was run through with a sword, because there was nothing she could do to save her little boy—nothing she could do except trust that He was saving her.
Jesus looked down at these two and loved them. He cared for them so that they could care for each other. He said to Mary, “Woman, behold, your son!—look at John, Mother. He’s your son now.” Then He said to John, “Behold, your mother!—she’s your mother now.” So, John had someone to love him and pray for him as he began his life of service as an apostle. And Mary had someone to look after her, to provide for her and keep her company as she ended her life as a widow. This was definitely true in a physical sense: from that hour the disciple took her to his own home. The histories of the apostles that have been handed down in the church tell us that John eventually settled as bishop in Ephesus, and that Mary lived with him there until she died.
But there is also a spiritual meaning here. God settles the solitary in families (Psalm 68:6). He builds community. And Jesus makes us members of His family. The Son of God gives us His own Father to be our Father. So, it is only natural, and quite a beautiful thought, that He also gives His Mother to be our Mother, like He did for John. Because, in truth, we are the brothers and sisters of Jesus. But also, with Jesus as our Brother and God as our Father, our true spiritual Mother is the Church. St. Paul tells us this is so: The Jerusalem above—the heavenly Jerusalem, the Church—she is free, and she is our mother. (Galatians 4:26).
So, Mary, the Mother of Jesus, has also come to be a symbol of the Church, the Mother of all believers. And this fits well with the relationship between John and Mary. John, the apostle and minister of the Word, is given by the Lord to Mary, representing the Church. Pastors are given to the Church. Pastors are not OVER the church any more than a son is over his mother. And Mary, representing the Church, is given by the Lord to John, the apostle. The Church is given to Pastors. Pastors are to care for the Church and provide for her with God’s Word.
But one other thing we should remember that mothers do, especially during this season of Lent: Mothers discipline their children. And Holy Mother Church lovingly disciplines her children too. Just as a faithful wife takes her cues from her loving husband and father of her children, Mother Church takes her direction from God our loving Father. So, the Church gives us three disciplines for us to practice, to help train us in righteousness and to set our minds on heavenly treasure: fasting, almsgiving, and prayer. And just as Mary, the Mother of God, is an image of our Mother the Church, so also, Mary’s life can be taken as an example of these three disciplines. Just as a Mother serves as an example for her children, so Mary is also an example for Christian life. She acts as a Mother to us all as she shows us how Christians should think and live. Mary is the model Christian—not because she is perfect, but because she, a sinner, so clearly lives by faith in Christ and His Word.
So, take fasting—abstaining from food. The point is to direct our minds away from earthly things toward heavenly things. Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes from the mouth of God (Matthew 4:4). There is more to real life than the daily bread that keeps this mortal flesh going for a while. The bread that gives nourishment to the soul, the heavenly manna that sustains eternal life is the Word of God. This is the Word Incarnate Himself, and also His Word given to us in the Scriptures.
The idea behind fasting is that we spend a little less time preparing and eating food so that we can spend more time on God’s Word. In our day when it’s so easy and quick to get food, it might be better that we fast from bigger wastes of time—things like TV, movies, Facebook. Instead of watching another show on Netflix, spend twenty minutes reading the Bible. But fasting from food is still a good old custom, and the fact that food is so easy to come by might be reason enough for us to remind ourselves that actually our life is still very fragile. Skip a meal, and the stomach rumbles, and we are quickly reminded that we cannot sustain ourselves physically. We can’t sustain ourselves spiritually either. We must live by every word that comes from the mouth of God. We need to hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them.
In this way, Mary is a beautiful example of how Christians live on the Word of God. Twice, Luke tells us how Mary received the Word of God. On the night her Son was born, she listened to everything the shepherds said, and Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart (Luke 2:17–19). Twelve years later, Joseph and Mary found their boy teaching the teachers in the Temple. And He said to them, “Why were you looking for Me? Did you not know that I must be in My Father's house?” And they did not understand the saying that He spoke to them… But His mother treasured up all these things in her heart (Luke 2:48–51). The Word didn’t just go in one ear and out the other for Mary. She heard it, marked it, and inwardly digested it. The Word was her food.
Jesus even points this out about His Mother. One time when He was teaching a certain woman from the crowd raised her voice and said to Him, “Blessed is the womb that bore You, and the breasts which nursed You!” But He said, “Yes, but more than that, blessed are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” (Luke 11:27–28). Jesus says, “You’re right. My Mother is blessed. But the real reason she is blessed is because she believes and treasures God’s Word.” Jesus Himself holds up His Mother as an example for all Christians.
The second discipline Holy Mother Church has for us children is almsgiving—giving to the poor. And when thinking of the poor and needy and lowly, we should think of Mary’s Song, the Magnificat: My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior; for He has regarded the lowliness of His handmaiden… He has cast down the mighty from their thrones and has exalted the lowly. He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent empty away (Luke 1:46–55). Mary was a nobody from nowhere. She is the representative of all poor and lowly sinners who are raised up by God to a blessed state.
And that is the key to almsgiving, the thing we have to believe if we are to truly give to others out of love. We have to understand that we are not high or mighty or wealthy or full on our own. Without God, we are empty. So, having been filled by God’s goodness, we can share others. Having received mercy, we show mercy. We know that we are no better than others, no more deserving of good things than anybody else. So, we show charity to others, even to those who may not deserve it. Having been raised up by God we raise up others. Having been fed by God we feed others. Having been loved by God we love others.
The third discipline to learn from our Mother is prayer: simply speaking to God. Prayer comes from simple faith. It’s speaking to God the way family members speak to each other, not rudely, but safely, with love. “I know they love me and I love them so we are free to talk with each other.” And so, look at how Mary talks to her Son. At the wedding at Cana, Mary and Jesus are both invited guests, and when the wine runs out, the mother of Jesus said to Him, “They have no wine” (John 2:1–11). See how she just simply tells Him what’s wrong. She doesn’t tell Him what to do about it, or try to bargain with Him. She just lays out the need.
And He doesn’t rebuke her with anger. (Sometimes we read it that way, when He says, “Woman, what does this have to do with Me?” But remember, He also calls her “Woman” while dying for the cross and loving her). Jesus gently reminds her that this is not the time for His true glory, the glory of the Savior accomplishing the forgiveness of sins. (Later, she would see that gruesome glory at the foot of the cross). And Mary knows He’s not angry with her because after He says that, with full faith in her Son’s goodness, she says to the servants, “Do whatever He tells you.” She doesn’t know what He’s going to do, how He will answer the prayer, but she knows whatever He does will be good.
So, when you pray, simply tell God what’s wrong, lay out the need. And then trust that whatever He does will be good. He will either give you what you ask for, or He will give you something better.
Now, prayer is not only asking for things, but it’s also a way of saying your “Amen” to God—committing yourself to Him, submitting to His will. And once again, Mary is a wonderful example, this time right at the very moment that she becomes her God’s Mother. The angel Gabriel told her that the Holy Spirit would conceive the Son in her womb, and Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaiden of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). You don’t have to be the Mother of God to say that. This is the attitude of every believer. Thy will be done, O God, not mine. Amen. I am Yours.
Of course, none of this means Mary is our Savior or the foundation of our faith. Mary herself would be appalled at such an idea. But she is our Lord’s Mother—and that is a staggering thing—the Creator of the Universe has a Mom! But also, you are your God’s true children, brothers and sisters to the Creator of the Universe—and that is an equally staggering thing! Through Mary, your God shares your flesh and blood. The Child of God became a Man so that we might become children of God. Ultimately, Mary is not in a higher state than any other Christian. In fact, we share her blessed position as we share her faith. She remains a humble example for us, representing our Mother the Church, representing all her children, all Christians.
So, we can join our Lord’s Mother, kneeling at the foot of His cross, cleansed and redeemed by His holy blood. There we are comforted and held up by His apostles and ministers who speak God’s Word to fill us, giving us something to treasure. And so we trust Him, no matter how much it might hurt and pierce our soul. We love Him—Mary’s Boy, God’s Son, our Savior. And we pray to Him, Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to Your Word.
In Your Holy + Name, O Jesus. Amen.
Preached at Immanuel, Charlotte, IA, and Trinity, Clinton, IA, and other congregations of the Clinton Circuit
St. Luke 18:31–43
Confirmation of Austin Adams at Trinity, Clinton, IA
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and everything that is written about the Son of Man by the prophets will be accomplished. For He will be delivered over to the Gentiles and will be mocked and shamefully treated and spit upon. And after flogging Him, they will kill Him, and on the third day He will rise.
How much clearer could Jesus be? And yet, the disciples did not understand. This was not the first time Jesus had spoken of what was to come for Him. In all fairness, when He taught openly to the crowds, He had been less straightforward in the predictions of His Passion. In the same way, He taught the crowds in parables, so that those who resisted His Word and refused to believe would not be able to know the secrets of the kingdom of God (Luke 8:10).
So, for example, Jesus predicted His Passion to the crowds this way: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up”… He was speaking about the temple of His body (John 2:19). Or: “An evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given to it except the sign of the prophet Jonah. For just as Jonah was three days and three nights in the belly of the great fish, so will the Son of Man be three days and three nights in the heart of the earth” (Matt. 12:39–40). Or: “I will be with you a little longer, and then I am going to Him who sent me. You will seek Me and you will not find Me. Where I am you cannot come” (John 7:33–34). These are not the plainest explanations of His suffering, death, and resurrection. But, he who has ears to hear, let him hear (Luke 8:8).
And it seems that the disciples didn’t quite have the ears to hear, at least not yet, at least not completely. Because, while Jesus was indirect with the crowds, He was much more direct with the disciples. Again, just as He explained the parables to the disciples when on their own, so also He gave them the plainest predictions of His Passion. First, He said, “The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised” (Luke 9:22). And then a second time: “Let these words sink into your ears: The Son of Man is about to be delivered into the hands of men” (Luke 9:44). And the one we heard today was the third time. But they understood none of these things. This saying was hidden from them.
Why? I think it can be a little too easy for us to shake our heads at those foolish disciples and wonder, how could they not get it? Yes, they could be thick-headed at times, but are we always much better? And might we fall into the danger of thinking that faith in Jesus is just a little too easy? So easy that we let it slide, thinking we’ve got the gist and that’s good enough. If the 12 men who spent every day with Jesus for three years were having a hard time believing and understanding everything He said, then maybe it’s not so easy and we should take it a little more seriously too.
Exactly why the disciples didn’t get it is partly a mystery. They clearly had faith in Him, and they were certainly baptized because they were already baptizing others. So they also had the Holy Spirit—the only One who gives faith—the only One who gives the power to say, “Jesus is Lord” (1 Cor. 12:3). But they didn’t yet have the Holy Spirit in quite the same way believers do today. And this can only be because the Lord’s work was not yet finished. The crucified, risen, and ascended Lord had not yet poured out His Spirit as He would on Pentecost. Things were still building up to that point, so things were not quite the same for the disciples.
Their circumstances prior to the cross, are very different from our circumstances after Pentecost. In some ways, their physical eyes hindered their faith. They saw this Man feed thousands, heal the sick, walk on water, and raise the dead—how then could He die? And yet, it was necessary that they see it all as it happened so they could be His witnesses—eye-witnesses, able to give reliable testimony to the Truth! I would suppose that it was necessary that they didn’t quite understand it all perfectly right away, so that they could observe everything that Jesus did and everything that happened to Him and then report it as true, ordinary witnesses. Someone who already understands everything before it happens isn’t a very good eye-witness. They would be sort of cheating, getting all the answers from some other source, and then what would be the point of the witness? The disciples needed to be Jesus’ eye-witnesses first, and then, after His resurrection, He could explain it all.
So, in one way, the disciples’ misunderstanding was an act of God. He deliberately kept them from getting it all, for His own good purposes. But that also means we have no excuse for continuing in our faulty belief and dim understanding. God is not keeping us in the dark. He has given us everything we need to know and understand. The thing is, we are not witnesses like the disciples were. We are not eye-witnesses of Jesus’ suffering, death, resurrection, and ascension. And so it’s not our job to give testimony of what we see, think, or feel. It is our job to hear the testimony of the disciples as they have written it in Holy Scripture. We are hearers. It is our job to listen, learn, and believe. And so, in many ways, we should not take for our examples the disciples who became apostles. None of us are going to become apostles. We are disciples of Jesus—learners, hearers of Jesus—who are going to gladly remain disciples.
It might be much better then, if we take for our example the Blind Man. Unlike the disciples, but very much like the Blind Man, we do not see Jesus. We cannot see Him healing the sick or holding the children in His lap. We cannot see Him dying on the cross or rising from the tomb. Instead, like the Blind Man, we hear the report from those who did see Jesus. Clearly, the Blind Man had heard some kind of report of who this Jesus of Nazareth is, because He immediately recognizes that this Man is far more than a carpenter from Nazareth. He calls Him, Jesus, Son of David—the King!—and the One who can have mercy on me! He knows this Jesus is the Lord.
Likewise, we listen to the eye-witness testimony of the apostles and believe their report. We learn what they tell us of this Jesus of Nazareth, this Son of David, this Lord who has mercy on sinners. Then by faith, in the power of the Holy Spirit, we can say, “Jesus is Lord.” And lest we take that faith for granted, we must recognize with the Blind Man that faith is not exactly easy. Yes, it’s simple enough for a child, simple enough for a newborn baby. Faith is a pure gift, not a work of man, only a work of the Holy Spirit—so in that sense it is easy, a pure gift. But the testing of faith is not easy. And this is why faith must always be growing, learning, reaching out for more understanding.
The Blind Man was challenged by the world. Those who were in front rebuked him, telling him to be silent. They told him to shut up. You can have your religion, but keep it to yourself. Don’t get in the way of anyone else, or speak up in defense of your faith. But the Blind Man cried out all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” He didn’t care what the world thought of him or what they could do to him. He just wanted his Jesus. He just wanted to be with His Lord and live by His mercy, and to hell with the world. Nothing else matters.
Faith clings to Jesus’ cross alone And rest in Him unceasing (LSB 555:9). Faith lives from Jesus’ cross alone. Faith cannot live on its own—it has no power of its own. Faith must always be kept alive. Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the Word of Christ (Rom. 10:17). So, faith only survives by hearing the Word of Christ, wherever and however it is offered. Faith survives by breathing in the breath of the Spirit given in the Word of the Father. Faith survives by eating and drinking the body and blood of the Son. And this is why, having been healed, the formerly Blind Man did not go back to his home in Jericho. But instead, he followed Jesus, glorifying God.
Today, Austin, you will come forward like that Blind Man. No one in this crowd today is going to try to hold you back, but still you come forward with just as much eagerness and joy. Because, like the Blind Man, you have the Spirit and you have heard the report about Jesus. You have been baptized and you have been taught His Word. So today, you come forward to make your good confession of faith; to cry out your very own, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me;” to say with the power of the Holy Spirit, “Jesus is Lord.” And having made your confession of faith, you will be admitted to the Lord’s Table. Here at His Table you can come forward to Jesus, like the Blind Man, confidently trusting that here you will find perfect healing. Here your faith will be fed, nourished, strengthened, and so kept alive.
The life of faith and the testing of that faith will not be easy. You will face challenges, and you won’t be able to keep your faith going on your own. But that’s what the Divine Service is for, every time you can get it. By listening to His Word, and by eating His body and drinking His blood, you will recover your sight. You will learn more and more to know your Jesus, your Lord, and one day, see Him with your own eyes.
In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.
Preached at Trinity, Clinton, IA, and Immanuel, Charlotte, IA
2 Corinthians 11:19–12:9
St. Luke 8:4–15
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
At first glance, I wondered what our Epistle has to do with our Gospel today? But on closer inspection, I saw that they both have to do with how Christians endure trials and temptations. What is the point of Christian suffering? Still, this Epistle is a strange one. It’s not the kind of straightforward doctrinal teaching we normally get from Paul. This time he gets personal. He gets sarcastic. Sometimes you have to read the Bible with a sense of irony and humor or you’ll never get it.
The Corinthians were being led astray by false preachers, who claimed to have the secret for the good and easy life, full of blessings and power, boasting that they’re the real Christians. Paul calls them “super-apostles” (He’s mocking them). And in order to drive his point home, he gets sarcastic with the Corinthians who have listened to these charlatans. You gladly bear with fools, being wise yourselves! Oh, you are so wise, Corinthians. You know how to handle a foolish person like me. For you bear it if someone makes slaves of you, or devours you, or takes advantage of you, or puts on airs, or strikes you in the face. You must be so good and wise, because you even like it when these super-apostles take advantage of you. You listen to them while they dupe you, steal from you, and treat you like lowly second-class Christians. And you praise them for it! To my shame, I must say, we were too weak for that! I couldn’t bring myself to take advantage of you the way those guys did. But I guess I’m just a simple fool. Obviously, I don’t know what makes for a good apostle.
Paul is being super sarcastic. He keeps saying, I’m speaking like a fool, like a madman. He’s letting them know that he’s not being serious—the way you might put a winking smiley face in your text or email to let someone know you’re joking. Sarcasm doesn’t always come through when it’s written or typed. But Paul wants to make his case in this most ridiculous way, so that the Corinthians will pay attention and see that they’ve been taken in by these false promises of easy glory and a rich life. A Christian life without suffering is not really a Christian life.
So, instead of just countering the claims of the super-apostles by boasting that he’s even more super, more blessed, more gifted as an apostle… Paul takes a different approach. At first, it does seem like he’s bragging: Are those other guys Hebrews? So am I. Are they Israelites? So am I. Are they offspring of Abraham? So am I. Are they servants of Christ? I am a better one—I am talking like a madman (wink, wink, I’m not actually bragging about being a better Christian or a better pastor than others). But then Paul really does start bragging and boasting, but not in his strengths or gifts or blessings. He doesn’t brag about how great Paul is. He boasts in his hardships and weaknesses. He boasts in the suffering he has endured for the sake of Christ and the Gospel. He’s a true apostle of Jesus, with far greater labors, far more imprisonments, with countless beatings, and often near death. Being an actual apostle, and being a real Christian is not that glamorous or easy.
Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, as if all that external pressure wasn’t enough, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches. I am stressed out because I actually care about the souls of my flock. Who is weak, and I am not weak? When there’s a Christian, weak, struggling in his faith, I care about him and I suffer with him. Who is made to fall, and I am not indignant? When someone is wronged or led into sin, I care about him, I have righteous indignation for his situation.
No pastor in modern America can claim to have suffered half of what Paul suffered. But I can guarantee you, any half–decent faithful pastor has experienced this last one: daily pressure of anxiety for all his members. As spiritual guardians and caretakers of souls, we are accountable for you. And when people don’t listen or don’t care about what the pastor is saying, it kills him; not because of his own wounded pride, but because he loves his people. He wants what is best for them, he wants what God wants for them, and the pastor is responsible for them.
But back to Paul. He’s saying to those high and mighty super-apostles, who are bragging about their super-spiritual gifts, and he’s saying to the Corinthians who have been hanging on these guys: you want to play the boasting game? Okay, I’ll boast. If I must boast, I will boast of the things that show my weakness. Instead of pointing out how strong in faith I am, how wise and eloquent and important I am, I’m going to focus on how much I have suffered. Because that’s what real Christians do. They don’t use Christ and His blessings to enjoy their best life now. They suffer for the sake of Christ and for His Word.
And Paul goes on. He says, I could brag about visions—not that it would do any good. But okay, since these super-spiritual people like their own visions and dreams more than the simple Word of God, okay, let’s brag about heavenly visions. I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven—whether in the body or out of the body I do not know, God knows… and he heard things that cannot be told, which man may not utter. We can be almost completely certain that Paul is talking about himself here. If anyone wants to flex their spiritual muscles with him and claim greater insight into the mind of God, Paul has got them beat. He was actually taken into heaven. Forget about the little kid or the man who claims to have died and seen Jesus or seen a loved one and then came back to tell about it. Paul actually did it, and he says it can’t be told. If the Apostle Paul wasn’t allowed to publish a book about his trip to heaven and get a movie deal, then nobody else should go spreading around their “visions” either.
And Paul deliberately hides that it was him, because that’s not what people need to pay attention to. On behalf of this man I will boast (the guy who got to see heaven), but on my own behalf I will not boast, except of my weaknesses—though if I should wish to boast, I would not be a fool, for I would be speaking the truth (that’s how we know Paul was the man caught up to heaven—he could boast about his heavenly visions if he wanted to and he wouldn’t be lying, unlike so many other charlatans). But, he says, I refrain from it, so that no one may think more of me than what he sees in me or hears from me. He only wants people to focus on his actual ministry as a servant of Christ. All we need to focus on is the way he lived as a simple Christian, willing to suffer on account of Jesus, and most especially, focus on the Word of Christ that he preached. We don’t need heavenly visions or super-spiritual gifts. All we need is the clear Word of God and the willingness to stick with that Word no matter what comes our way.
Even Paul, didn’t really need the spectacular vision he got. He goes on: So to keep me from being too elated because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from being elated. Just so Paul didn’t get too high and mighty, too proud of his spiritual insight and power, Jesus gave Paul an extra burden to bear. We don’t know what thorn he’s referencing—if it was sickness, physical suffering, or some kind of emotional turmoil, or some sin that he struggled with. Whatever it was, it was a cross, a trial, sent from Jesus in order to keep Paul humble, down to earth. He could never think that he had everything all figured out, that he just had such a blessed life, so easy and carefree. The Lord Jesus disciplined him.
Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. Paul prayed for what every Christian would pray for: “Lord, please heal me. Please take this temptation away from me. Give me peace.” But the Lord said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” I will tell you that this is a verse I personally repeat to myself many, many times. Jesus says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” He doesn’t always heal the physical ailment. He doesn’t always take away the worry, or simply remove the besetting sin so that we don’t have to fight the temptation anymore. He wants us to suffer as Christians. He wants us to suffer while trusting in Him alone for the strength, for the patience, for the rescue. And His grace is enough. His Word, His baptism, His body and blood are enough.
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Earthly promises of easy glory and a rich life will ultimately fail—whether that be the glory of actual wealth or the richness of family and friends—it doesn’t last forever and it won’t get you to heaven. That’s why I’ll brag about my sufferings as a Christian. I’ll admit that all I have, all I bring to the table is my weakness. Because then all I really have is Christ, His grace and His power. And then I have more than enough.
What then does this have to do with the Parable of the Sower? Well, to start with, Christians are only able to endure suffering by relying on the Word of God, the seed that is sown in our lives by baptism, by preaching, by learning the Bible, and by the Lord’s Supper. We are able to endure suffering only by relying on the grace and blessings that come with that Word.
And so this message from Paul especially fits with the rocky soil. Some seed fell on the rock, and as it grew up, it withered away, because it had no moisture… The ones on the rock are those who, when they hear the word, receive it with joy. But these have no root; they believe for a while, and in time of testing fall away. The hot sun is good and necessary for plants. The plants don’t wither because of the sun, but because there is no moisture in the soil for the plant to rely on, and no way for the plant to put down deep roots so that it can survive even in times of hot, dry weather. In order for Christians to endure testing, trial, and temptations, in order for a Christian’s faith to not wither up and die when suffering comes, he’s got to have roots, sunk deep into rich, nourishing soil.
So, where do you get the moisture for your soil? What’s going to make your roots of faith grow? Where do you get that sufficient grace to sustain you when the Lord doesn’t take the pain or hardship away immediately? You get it in His Word. You get it in your Baptism, and by returning to your Baptism in confession and absolution. You get it in the Supper of His body and blood that connects you to His own immortal life. This is the Lord’s holy irrigation. And He provides it for you now, so that when the sun beats down—when the world shows its hatred of Christ and of His Christians; and when the hot, dry winds try to suck up your strength—when temptation comes and you can’t stand against it on your own; then you’ll have His grace and it will be enough. Jesus says, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.
Preached at Trinity, Clinton, IA, & Immanuel, Charlotte, IA
St. Matthew 20:1–16
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
The set-up, the characters, the wages are all fairly simple to identify in this vineyard parable. The Master of the House is the Lord. The day for laboring in the vineyard is our life on earth. The laborers are those called into the church. The vineyard itself is the kingdom of heaven, which is really the whole Christian life. We are called into this life and work by grace. The Master calls, we don’t apply. And while life in the kingdom comes from His grace and is sustained by His grace, it does also involve work. Laborers don’t just lie in the shade or play games all day. We have works we are to be doing, works that God prepared for us to do: the Ten Commandments, God’s good and gracious will. But then the reward comes at the end, and the reward is also by grace. Each received a denarius—in the end, eternal salvation is still a gift. It doesn’t depend on how long or hard you worked. Salvation is by God’s grace alone on account of Christ.
All of this is fairly simple. The real trouble with this parable comes at the end of the day. The trouble comes with the ones who grumble. When those hired first came, they thought they would receive more, but each of them also received a denarius. And on receiving it they grumbled at the master of the house, saying, ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ And in case you are feeling sympathetic towards those grumblers, let’s first remember: they were not losing anything. Their wage had not been cut. They were not being forced to spread their wealth. They had no justifiable complaint against the Master.
Their problem was envy—pure, simple envy. They were not hurt or cheated in the slightest, but they hated the fact that the others got the same as they did. They were simply resentful of the Master’s goodness. What Jesus actually has the Master say is, “Is your eye evil because I am good?” In other words, “Are you actually getting angry because I’m a generous man? How petty, how small and miserly and proud do you have to be?”
Jesus is very concerned about these kinds of people. They figure in some of His other parables as well. One stark example of this envious pride is the elder brother to the prodigal son, who was outraged that his father had forgiven his younger son, even though there was no injustice done to the elder. Jesus is particularly concerned about these kinds of people that bristle under the message of grace. They might accept the “idea” of salvation by grace, but they’re still trying to justify themselves by their works. They compare themselves to others: “I’ve never done that. I’m not that bad.” They confess: “I, a poor, miserable sinner,” and then a while later they’re insisting: “I’m basically a good person.” They want recognition for the work they’ve done, whether that’s from their family, their church, their community—they want the “Thank you” note, the pat on the back, the award for their special service. In the end, they want to be judged by something in themselves. This is sin. It’s pride, greed, and envy.
Now, all sins disobey God, and all sins deserve punishment in hell. But not all sins are the same. This sin is particularly dangerous because it disqualifies you from grace. It’s a rejection of grace. It rejects the one thing that can actually save you. If you insist on taking credit for anything, being recognized for anything, if you won’t be saved by Grace ALONE, then you won’t be saved at all. This is why Jesus sums up His parable with a couple proverbs: The last will be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few chosen. Many are called by grace into the church but not all remain in it. Do not take your own salvation for granted. And do not look down on your neighbor and think you are a better person or more deserving or that they are surely lost. You don’t know how things can end up.
The end of the day for those petty laborers is incredibly sad. Instead of loving this kind Master and rejoicing in His remarkable generosity—instead of being happy for their late brothers and grateful to the Master for taking pity on them—they insist on getting what’s coming to them. They think the Master is paying them for their work (because that’s what they would do). So, if the Master wants to overpay the later workers, then they deserve to get paid more. Fair’s fair. They miss the point. This Master does not pay for the work that’s done, no matter how much or little it is. He gives what is good, because He is good.
But they want to go by their work, and so that’s what they get. They get a day’s wage for a day’s work. So, it’s no longer a gift, no longer grace. They still get a denarius, but I don’t think their denarius represents salvation anymore. Because it’s not given according to the Master’s grace. It’s given according to what they’ve earned. Take what is yours and go, says the Master. Take what you earned by your works and get out.
In the kingdom of heaven there is no envy of the brother, no disputing with the Master, no measuring up, no checking the math. Now, Heaven is not communism—don’t let this parable get confused for that petty system—where everyone gets the same meager amount. God does give rewards for good works, and some saints will have more jewels in their crowns than others—God is no egalitarian. But neither is Heaven capitalism, where we compete with one another, working to gain wealth for ourselves. Nothing that we do in the kingdom of heaven is for ourselves. Jesus Christ gave up His life for us. So, we also give up our lives for each other. That’s just how it is in this Master’s vineyard. And you shouldn’t want it any other way, because it does mean you are taken care of too. Joy and bliss will be freely distributed. No one’s keeping track of how much anyone’s got because the Lord is generous and there’s more than enough for all.
Plus, in this vineyard, the work itself is a joy. The work of the Christian life is not a burden to be endured for the sake of compensation. You can’t be working for what you’ll get out of it, because then you wouldn’t be working for God. The work of the kingdom is working with Jesus and doing His good will because He loves us and we love Him. Our good works, the fruit of our labor is not what saves us, and yet, we do desire that fruit, just as our Master does. So we work for His gain and for our neighbor’s gain, not for our own. We’ve got our gain: we’ve been called into the vineyard, we get to live with the Master, we get to work at His side—like a little boy “working” alongside his Dad, “helping” him.
And at the end of the day, at the end of the world, when the “wages” of eternal life are handed out, and the feast begins, no one is going to be pouring the wine of eternal gladness with a measuring cup. Thanks be to God! His mercy endureth forever. There is no stingy Lord in heaven, no stingy angels either, and no stingy saints. If you don’t like that, then you don’t like grace, or Jesus.
Finally, let me remind you that none of this means that there’s no justice, or that sin doesn’t matter. Sin mattered to God so much that He killed His own Son. Justice mattered so much to Jesus that He willingly suffered all our injustice. The truth is that none of us have done or will do all the work for the kingdom that we could do or should do. But our Lord is good and gracious. He Himself dealt with our sin and His justice. He is fair, and at the same time, wildly generous. He calls no-good, lazy bums into His vineyard. He supplies the power to His laborers to carry out the work He has for them. And He showers grace upon grace to all who love and trust in Him.
So, you Christians who have been working in the kingdom for many years, or with great vigor: don’t be proud or withholding to those that haven’t. The Lord does indeed love the work you do for Him. And one day, He will say to you, Well done, good and faithful servant… Enter into the joy of your Master (Matt. 25:21). And you Christians, who have been working for just a short time, or you recognize you could be doing more in your Christian life: it’s still possible to “earn” the whole wage in just a short while. It comes from the kindness of Him who called you, so it’s never too late to start working for God’s kingdom. The gracious Master says, ‘You go into the vineyard too.’ And your work that was begun by His grace, will also be finished by His grace.
Let us pray:
O Holy Spirit, grant us grace
That we our Lord and Savior
In faith and fervent love embrace
And truly serve Him ever.
The hour of death cannot bring loss
When we are sheltered by the cross
That canceled our transgressions.
And when our earthly race is run,
Death’s bitter hour impending,
Then may Thy work in us begun
Continue till life’s ending,
Until we gladly may commend
Our souls into our Savior’s hand,
The crown of life obtaining. (LSB 693:1,3,)
In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.
Preached at Trinity, Clinton, IA & Immanuel, Charlotte, IA
St. Luke 2:22–32
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
When the time came for their purification according to the Law of Moses, they brought Jesus up to Jerusalem to present Him to the Lord. There are two sacrifices referenced in this event from Jesus’ infancy. The sacrifice for purification and the sacrifice for redemption.
First, the one involving Mary. Forty days after giving birth to her son, a mother was required by the Law of Moses to go to the temple for purification from the uncleanness of childbirth. You might wonder, what’s so horrible about childbirth? Is it sinful? No, but it involves blood—and blood can mean two things: life and death. Blood is powerful—the life of the creature is in the blood. The amazing thing about childbirth is that through terrible pain and loss of blood, new life is born. But this loss of blood and risk of death was one of the ways someone could be rendered unclean according to the Law. There were all kinds of things that could make a person unclean according to the Law of Moses. Most of them were not related to any specific sin committed by the person. But the Law of clean and unclean recognized and taught that we do live in world infected by sin. We live in an unclean world. And no matter how hard we might try we can’t keep ourselves perfectly clean, perfectly unstained, perfectly unaffected by this world. Because the source of all uncleanness, the source of all sin which causes filth and sickness and danger and death—the source is in our own hearts.
In our modern, antiseptic, disinfected world, we can forget how dirty life is. More often, it seems that we forget about the uncleanness and infecting power of sin in our lives. We forget how it can stain and leave a mark on us for years, or even infect other people and get passed on to other generations. Even more devastating is it when we forget the cleansing power of Jesus’ blood. The Absolution does not only say we are forgiven, but it actually cleanses us, it makes us pure, unstained. And not only for the sins that we commit, but also for the sins done against us.
Sexual sins most especially carry with them this feeling of impurity, defilement. This is even more true in cases of rape and abuse. Isn’t it interesting, how in the last few decades as the church has abandoned the language of defilement and purity, we see it resurface in the secular world? It is more common now to hear people talk in terms of pollution: in the natural world (that’s a big deal for people), but also in the realm of the body, especially in the area of sexuality. We need to recognize the truth that what we do with our bodies and what others do to our bodies can defile us. It goes deeper than the skin, even deeper than the mind. We can’t just will it away, wish it away. And no amount of self-esteem can remove the stain of that sin and cleanse an unclean conscience. Whether a person willfully takes part in the sin or they are violated by others, the filthiness can haunt a person for the rest of their life. People are looking for something to cleanse them, to make themselves feel pure again. And we have the answer in the Church.
In the Old Testament Law, blood was required for purification. The holy blood of the sacrifice offered on the Lord’s altar was cleansing and it restored life. By the death of the sacrifice, the person who had been cut off from life, was brought back into life with God and with their community. And that’s what Jesus has brought us.
His birth was pure and holy, conceived by the Holy Spirit. His mother was not made unclean by this pregnancy or birth, she remained a pure virgin. And yet, they submitted to this Law so that all righteousness could be fulfilled. Jesus didn’t have to get circumcised for His own benefit, He was already in perfect covenant relationship with God His Father. Jesus didn’t have to get baptized by John, He was already sinless. And He didn’t need this sacrifice either, He was already pure. But He, along with His mother in this case, He kept God’s Law so that it would be fulfilled for us.
Jesus is the sacrifice for purification. He is the One who cleanses you of all your sins—all the sins you’re carrying—the sins you’ve done, defiling yourself, and the sins others have done against you, defiling you, filling you with shame. He says to you, “My holy blood covers you and purifies you. I have called you clean. Don’t let anyone else call you unclean. Don’t let your own mind think of yourself as dirty.” He says to you, “In Me, you are clean and holy.”
Now, the second sacrifice referenced in this trip to the temple is the redemption of the firstborn son. Think back to Egypt and the tenth plague. The firstborn sons of Israel were marked by the blood of the Passover Lamb and so God spared them from death. But this meant that the firstborn, from both animals and men, were holy to the Lord—they belonged to Him. The firstborn livestock had to either be sacrificed to God or bought back, paid for to the temple, redeemed. The firstborn sons had to either be given to the Lord for a lifetime of service in the temple as priests, or they were bought back, redeemed.
The really amazing thing about this event in Jesus’ life is that even though He was taken by His parents as Mary’s firstborn son, and He was presented to the Lord, there is no mention of the redemption price being paid for Him. Jesus was not redeemed because He is the Redeemer. Even though He does not stay in the temple physically, He remains in God’s service, holy to the Lord, for His entire life and even beyond. He is still the great High Priest who offers the perfect sacrifice to save human life. Jesus was presented to the Lord in the temple as the real offering. He is the true sacrifice for sin and for cleansing. Jesus was presented to the Lord so that through Him you can be presented to the Lord. By baptism and faith in Jesus you are brought and presented to the Father, pure and holy like His Son. Jesus is the Lord’s salvation prepared for all people.
By inspiration of the Holy Spirit, Simeon sees all this going on in the temple courtyard and he proclaims it in his song: Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace according to Thy Word, For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation, which Thou hast prepared before the face of all people, A light to lighten the Gentiles and the glory of Thy people Israel. There He is—Simeon sees Him with his own eyes: the sacrifice of purification and redemption, the light for the nations and the glory for God’s people, the salvation prepared since the beginning of the world. There He is—the Lord appeared in His temple, in the flesh of that little baby in Simeon’s arms.
And the Lord still comes to His temple—not a temple of stone, but the temple of His holy people, here, today as well. In His Word spoken and in the bread given and the wine poured out, He appears: the salvation prepared before the face of all people. Your High Priest Jesus still ministers in the heavenly temple for you and He carries out His cleansing and life-giving ministry right here in your midst. You are made holy priests with Him, and given access to God. Like the priests of old, you are permitted to eat the holy food from the sacrifice: His body and blood. That makes you clean, pure, belonging to Him, holy to the Lord. You are presented to the Father and you receive His blessing.
And then you are also able to depart in peace, according to His Word. Cleansed and restored to life, you go out into the world carrying His holy presence with you. You are a little temple of the Lord, bringing His cleansing, purifying Word with you, bringing it to the people in your life who are still suffering in this world of sin and pollution. And so you remain the Lord’s holy servant, until that day when you are finally called to depart this world in peace, and are brought into the Lord’s nearer presence, and are presented to Him, wearing only that white robe of Christ’s righteousness. You are clean, pure, and holy, now and forever.
In the Holy + Name of Jesus. Amen.
Preached at Trinity, Clinton, IA & Immanuel, Charlotte, IA
