Monday, June 27, 2011

The Peace of Christ for Feuding Families


In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 10:34-42
June 26, 2011
Pentecost 2 - Proper 8A

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

I love my wife. I love my son. I love my daughter. I love my mom and my step-dad. I love my father-in-law. I love my sisters and my sisters-in-law and my brothers-in-law. I love them all—my family. And if someday I’m blessed with a son-in-law . . . well, I’ll try to love him, even though there’s no way he’ll be good enough for my daughter. (And I think there’s some Biblical precedent for requiring seven years of hard labor before the boy gets the girl.)

But I’m not expressing anything unusual here. I mean, you love your family too, don’t you? Love for family is like apple pie and fireworks on the fourth of July. It’s God who gives us our family. Family is God’s gift to you; and you are God’s gift to your family. And even Jesus—despite His miraculous conception and birth—even Jesus was born into a family. “Honor your father and your mother” is the first of the commandments to have a promise attached to it, underscoring the importance of family.

Perhaps, then, this is why it sounds so utterly outrageous to hear Jesus describe the members of our families as enemies! “Don’t suppose I have come to bring peace on earth,” Jesus said. “I did not come to bring peace, but a sword—to turn a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. A man’s enemies will be the members of his own household.” There’s a radical statement for you. The Christian church teaches the importance of family values—that family matters. Focus on the Family is a well-known Christian organization. But the Christ of the Christian church says, “The members of your own family—well, they just might be your enemies.”

This might just be hyperbole. Jesus did that sometimes—exaggerated to make an important point, made an extreme statement so that He could highlight an important truth. It’s like the time when Jesus said, “If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off.” That’s hyperbole. Jesus isn’t advocating self-mutilation; but He is saying that it’s better to go through life one-handed than to spend eternity in hell.

I think there’s at least a little hyperbole here. After all, Jesus certainly did not come with the express purpose of turning family members against one another. Jesus came to save His people from their sins. Jesus came to seek and save the lost. Jesus came to give us life that lasts forever. But sometimes the result of Jesus’ work in our lives—the effect can be—conflict in the family. Sometimes the new life that Jesus gives is in direct conflict with the family life we’ve all come to know. And division sometimes results. This is why Jesus went on to clarify: “Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”

Peace among family members is a good thing. In fact, Jesus desires that there be peace and harmony in every family. But that peace can never be achieved by turning away from Jesus and His Word. But too often that’s the kind of peace we aim for. We aim merely to “keep the peace” among family members. And we do it by setting aside Jesus and His will for our family members. But this kind of peace is really no peace at all. It’s a declaration of war against God. It’s a sham peace that puts a shiny veneer over the sins of the family. Let me give you some examples . . . .

Peace in the family is just a sham when we see family members headed for divorce, but we don’t do a thing to bring help and healing to that marriage because (they say) that’s none of our business (and we have to keep the peace). Peace in the family is just a sham when parents don’t help their teenagers make God-pleasing choices when it comes to friends and clothing and movies and music—when parents refuse to say “no” because they want to avoid conflict and “keep the peace” and be a friend instead of a parent. Peace in the family is just a sham when grandpa (a widower) decides to move in together with his new lady friend without getting married—and no one says a thing in order to keep “peace” in the family. Peace in the family is a sham we the use of porn is tolerated in the family—because confronting the sin might lead to conflict (and we have to keep the peace at all costs).

Beloved in the Lord, this kind of peace isn’t just a sham; it’s a shame. And it can be a damning shame. When we fear confronting a family member more than we fear Almighty God—when our desire to avoid conflict is greater than our desire to speak up for the spiritual well-being of a family member—when we settle for being peace-keepers instead of being blessed peace-makers—we are sinning. Peace-makers also have to be risk-takers. Making the kind of peace that pleases God necessarily involves risk—risking conflict, risking hard feelings, and risking rejection. But by refusing the risk—by refusing to speak the truth in love we are sinning against our family. We are sinning against God who is the Giver of families. It’s a sham. It’s a shame. It’s a refusal to take up our cross and follow Jesus.

Nowhere do we need Jesus more than when it comes to our own flesh and blood. And this is precisely why Jesus Himself took our human flesh and blood and joined our human family as the Son of Mary. When you keep quiet to avoid conflict and confrontation, remember Jesus who spoke up and walked headlong right into conflict and confrontation and crucifixion. When you don’t want to take the risk to rescue a family member, remember how Jesus risked everything to rescue you. He took up His cross so that He might bring forgiveness of sins to every member of your family—so that He might give your family a peace that is real and genuine and honest. You simply need to repent of loving family more than Jesus—of being a peace-keeper instead of a peace-maker.

We all fail our families everyday. There’s probably not a day that goes by that we don’t sin against the members of our families. And no one sees our sins in a more up-close-and-personal way than the members of our families. Jesus wants your family to enjoy the genuine peace that He earned by the shedding of His blood. For all the times we have failed our family members, there stands Jesus who was forsaken by His heavenly Father as He hung from the cross. For all the times we have feared or loved our family more than we have feared and loved God, there stands Jesus who was unafraid to demonstrate His love for you by carrying His cross and enduring the shame, the scorn, the nails.

Jesus endured it all because He loves you and He wants you in His family forever and ever. Your baptism was the moment of your adoption into the Savior’s family. There you received His forgiveness for your sins, all His good for all your bad, His life instead of the death you deserve.

The Savior who made you a member of His family, has also given you your earthly family. He gives your parents, spouse and children not to love more than you love Him. He gives you your family to love because of Him. Love your family because of Jesus—not more than Jesus. And (miracle of miracles) in loving your family, you will be loving Jesus too.

Our calling as family members is not to keep the peace, but to live in the peace that Jesus died and rose to secure for every family. Living in that peace begins here in the Divine Service. It’s only as we ourselves each receive the forgiveness of Christ that we can then take that forgiveness home and share it with our families throughout the week.

Families that enjoy the genuine peace of Jesus will still have conflicts. Families that enjoy the genuine peace of Jesus will still have the occasional family feud. But those family feuds are followed by repentance and forgiveness for Jesus’ sake. Jesus teaches us not to ignore sin, but to confess it and receive His sure and certain forgiveness. The peace of Christ is not cheap. Don’t settle for fake imitations. Your family matters too much to settle for anything less.

I love my wife and my kids. I love my parents, my siblings and my in-laws and outlaws. I love them all. But by the grace of God, I love Jesus even more. I think you love Him more too. Why? Because He first loved us—because He gave Himself for us—because He took up His cross for us. Amen.

Monday, June 20, 2011

The Heart of the Holy Trinity in the Person of Jesus


In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 28:16-20
June 19, 2011
The Holy Trinity A

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

I really do enjoy a good ending (like most people, I suppose). Lately I’ve been reading a lot of mystery/suspense novels. And the endings always manage to surprise me. There’s always a last-minute, unexpected twist in the plot that I didn’t see coming. And just when it appears that the criminal/villain is about to succeed in carrying out his murderous scheme, somehow the good guy manages to turn the tables. Truth, justice and the American way prevails. Virtue is rewarded. Evil-doers are punished. In my estimation, that’s a pretty good ending.

On this Trinity Sunday we get to consider another pretty good ending—the ending of Matthew’s Gospel. It’s a rather well known ending compared to most books of the Bible. We hear part of this ending at every Baptism; for this is precisely where Jesus commanded the eleven to make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. “And behold,” Jesus said, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” But like any good ending, there are a few unexpected twists and turns in this plot—things you may have overlooked. Best of all, this is an ending that reveals the heart of the Holy Trinity in the person of Jesus.

For me, the biggest surprise in this ending comes right before Jesus speaks. St. Matthew reports that Jesus met the eleven on the mountain in Galilee. St. Matthew reports that when they saw Jesus they worshipped Him. St. Matthew also reports, however, that “some doubted.” Some doubted?! I didn’t see that coming. Who doubted? It wasn’t the crowds. It wasn’t just the fair-weather followers of Jesus (or a few of His Facebook friends). It was some of the Eleven—the inner circle (minus Judas). Now, these men would ultimately go to the ends of the earth to preach Christ crucified. Nearly all of these men would ultimately be martyred for their passionate confession that Jesus Christ is the Son of God—the only mediator between God and man. But surprisingly, even Jesus’ most intimate confidants—even those who stood there looking and listening to the risen, resurrected Lord—even among them, it says, “some doubted.” I find that surprising. There’s an unexpected twist in the plot.

The word “doubt” used here is different from the “doubt” of doubting Thomas. Remember, Thomas’s problem was really that he didn’t believe—didn’t believe that Jesus was living. Thomas was literally “faithless” on that first Easter. That’s not the case here, at the end of Matthew’s gospel. Here it’s not that the Eleven don’t believe—or that they are faithless. What “doubt” means here is that they were hesitant. They were unsure, unsteady and unconvinced about what was going to happen. Even as they saw Jesus, and believed in Jesus, and worshipped Jesus—even then, they weren’t all brimming with confidence. Some doubted.

On the one hand, I find that shocking and surprising; but on the other hand, I can see it. In fact, that kind of doubt is a doubt we all know perfectly well. It’s the kind of doubt that can eat away at you even while you’re sitting in church, on a Sunday morning, singing Holy, Holy, Holy. Even as you will confess your faith today in the glorious words of the Athanasian Creed—even as you confess with certainty all the big articles of the Christian faith—even then, this kind of doubt will find you—and rob you of the joy and confidence that could be yours.

This doubt doesn’t deny that Christ is risen; it simply denies you the benefits of that belief. To have this kind of doubt is to be like the Eleven—hesitant, unsure, unsteady, unconvinced of God’s presence and God’s plan for your life—that He is working all things for your good—that you are the apple of His eye—that the heartaches and fears that loom large today are somehow beyond the grasp of God the Holy Trinity. Maybe you think that your sin-filled life isn’t worthy of God’s attention. Maybe that’s why the Eleven doubted too. After all, they had abandoned Jesus and denied Jesus. When the going got tough, they ran away and hid behind locked doors. They didn’t have a proud record of spiritual success to build on. And neither do we. Our record is a sad record of broken promises, selfish desires, and sinful self-centered words and deeds. With a record like that, there are plenty of reasons to doubt God’s gracious care.

But then, in Matthew’s great conclusion, something happened that changed everything: Jesus started talking! And the words of Jesus changed everything. The Eleven didn’t overcome their doubt by trying harder; and you won’t either. They didn’t overcome their doubt by re-doubling their commitment to the Lord; and you won’t either. They didn’t overcome their doubt at all; Jesus did. He spoke. He put His Words in their ears and hearts. The same God who said, “Let there be light,” is the same God who said, “Go and make disciples of nations, baptizing them and teaching them.” In both cases, it happened—it happened because God spoke the Word. And by that Word, doubt and uncertainty were overcome.

What was true for the Eleven on that Galilean mountain is also true for you: “God doesn’t call the qualified . . . He qualifies those He has called.” God chooses to use uncertain, unsteady sinners to accomplish great things in this world! God chooses to use you! Do you have your share of doubts today? Are you unsure, unsteady and unconvinced that God will do for you exactly what He has promised? Do you feel like you’re losing in your daily struggle with sin? Are you teetering on the edge of depressing, feeling that your faith is futile, disgusted with your own personal performance as a disciple of Jesus? If so, then I say, “Great!” You are in a very good place—a place where the only thing you can do is repent. You are right where the Eleven were before Jesus came and commissioned them and included them in His purpose and plan for all the nations of the world.

Here at the conclusion of Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus gives us a glimpse into the heart of God the Holy Trinity. And there, in the heart of our great and awesome God, is a place for you. Uncreated, eternal, incomprehensible, almighty—God is all of that and much, much more. But behind all the theological jargon and the weighty words of the Creeds, we dare not overlook the simple fact that God is love. This love isn’t a fuzzy feeling or a fleeting emotion. This love is Jesus, God’s Son, who came to earth as your substitute—who bore your sin in His body, who took your punishment, who suffered your sentence of death. On the third day He rose again from the dead; and He promises that one day you will rise too.

The love of God the holy Trinity was poured into your life when you were baptized in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Those words—together with the water—changed everything for you—gave you a whole new identity as one redeemed by Christ the crucified—as one who is loved and treasured by the holy Triune God. Being a baptized disciple also means being taught—taught to observe all that Jesus has entrusted to us.

Notice that little word “all.” It’s important! We are to observe all that Jesus has commanded. We don’t get to pick and choose which of Jesus’ teachings to observe and which to disregard as unimportant or outdated. It’s all—all or nothing with our great God. God withholds nothing from you because He wants the absolute best for you.

But Matthew has saved the best for last. It’s the final sentence of His gospel that seals the deal for doubting disciples. “Behold,” Jesus says, “I am with you always, to the end of the age.” At the beginning of Matthew’s gospel, the baby Jesus is described with the Old Testament name “Emmanuel,” which means, “God with us.” Here at the end, Jesus spells out what it means that He is Emmanuel: “I am with you always.” He is with you—but not in some complicated, complex way. He is with you in the Words of the Scriptures. He is with you in the washing of Holy Baptism. He is with you in the bread that is His body and wine that is His blood. He is with you, bringing forgiveness and faith and joy and doubt-dispelling confidence.

In this ending, Jesus shows us the very heart of God. And there we find compassion for doubting disciples. There we find comfort that He will use us for His plans and purposes. There we hear His commitment to be with you to the end of the age. It’s a great ending for Matthew’s gospel. But for you it signals a life that has no ending—a resurrection ending—a “to be continued” ending—happily ever after. Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Monday, June 13, 2011

The Punctuation of Pentecost (!)


In Nomine Iesu
Acts 2
June 12, 2011
Day of Pentecost A

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord and Giver of life, who proceeds from the Father and the Son, who with the Father and the Son together is worshipped and glorified, who spoke by the prophets. . . . It’s the Day of Pentecost—exactly fifty days past Easter—the day when the Ascended Christ breathed out the Holy Spirit upon His tiny church, taking it from a mere 120 souls to over three thousand in one day.

You know the highlights of that day: the sound of a rushing wind, tongues of fire that came to rest upon the Apostles, and the miraculous preaching and proclamation in a multitude of languages and dialects. Jesus had promised His disciples that they would be clothed with power from on high; and that promise was fulfilled by the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. It was a great day—a grand and glorious day—an exciting exclamation point of a day designed to draw people in to hear the good news about Jesus.

But if I’m going to describe Pentecost as an “exclamation point” of a day, I need to be careful. You know what an exclamation point is, don’t you? It’s a mark of punctuation—a vertical line with a dot beneath it. Exclamation points signal surprise, emphasis and excitement. When it comes to punctuation, I’m not what you’d call a stickler; but I do like to get it right. But I have a tough time knowing when to use exclamation points. For instance, I could use one here(!) and here(!) and there(!) and there(!). But if you use exclamation points too often, they start to lose their effect.

In my early years of preaching, I used to attach an exclamation point to the title of every sermon, thinking that would somehow generate more excitement and enthusiasm for my message. But over the years I’ve concluded that a well-written sermon, filled with ordinary punctuation (like periods, commas and hyphens) gets a lot more mileage than a whole herd of exclamation points can achieve.

The Holy Spirit does His work using both exclamation points and periods. What do I mean by that? Well, nowhere is the punctuation of Pentecost more clearly seen than in Acts chapter 2. The exclamation points in that chapter are awfully hard to miss—the sound of rushing wind, flames of fire on the heads of men, a multitude of languages miraculously spoken and heard declaring the wonders of God. Bewilderment and utter amazement! And a little bit further on in the chapter you have Peter preaching, telling the crowds how the Jesus they had nailed to the cross and put to death was now alive forevermore(!)—that Jesus is both Lord and Christ(!), raised from the dead!, exalted to the Father’s right hand! And the people were cut to the heart when they heard this. You can feel the intensity of their emotions as they cried out to Peter and the others, “Brothers, what shall we do?!” Emphasis, emotion, excitement—exclamation point!

But we can’t overlook the “periods” of Pentecost either. Periods are just dots—signaling a routine pause. When it comes to punctuation, periods are ordinary, expected, routine—a chance to pause, and ponder and reflect. That’s what brought thousands of people together on that day. Pentecost itself was an ordinary, expected, routine festival. The Jews had been celebrating Pentecost for centuries. It was an annual harvest festival, perhaps not so different from Thanksgiving for us. It was as routine and predictable as turkey and pumpkin pie. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t important. It was. But OT Pentecost was just a period, not an exclamation point. It was a special occasion which brought together God’s people from all over the world. Yet God chose this routine, annual holy day to stage a grand opening for the Holy Spirit.

Later on in Acts 2 we learn of how those first believers lived under the Spirit’s influence. And for the most part, it was a life without exclamation points. It says, “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (2:42). No exclamation points there, just some commas and a period. They regularly, routinely, ordinarily gathered together for preaching and liturgy, feasting and fellowship. There was nothing glamorous about it. There was no red carpet rolled out—no rushing wind and no tongues of fire. It was simply God’s people gathering around God’s gifts, growing slowly and steadily in faith and good works. No exclamation points, just periods—times to be refreshed, to ponder, reflect, listen and digest the faith delivered by the Holy Spirit.

Exclamation points and periods—that’s the punctuation of Pentecost. As a baptized child of God in whom the Holy Spirit dwells, you can and should expect your faith to be shaped by both forms of punctuation. We need both periods and exclamation points in our lives.

We need, first of all, the slow, steady, regular, routine, unremarkable, predictable periods produced by the Holy Spirit. You need a slow and steady dose of God’s Word, of prayers and praise and liturgy and hymns—just like you’re getting here this morning. Here you can delve deeply into the mysteries and mercies of God. It’s all as absolutely predictable as periods on the page of a manuscript. But it’s what we need. It’s part of what the Holy Spirit gives us.
You often hear people criticizing this part of the church’s life. They say liturgy is too formal, too predictable, too boring. “The liturgy with all its periods and pauses doesn’t let me express myself or sing what I want to sing.” And that’s exactly right! The liturgy teaches us to subdue ourselves, our wants, our likes, our dislikes and to more deeply understand what it means to be the One body of Christ—to be the one, holy Christian and apostolic church. We need that—to be less self-centered and more Christ-centered. We must decrease; Jesus must increase.

You know, if we wanted to, we could manufacture some exclamation points around here. We could generate fire and wind and people speaking different languages here every Sunday if we wanted to. And what would happen? We’d get bored with it within a month or two. Sound effects and pyrotechnics don’t last. They don’t give long term benefits. Even the best, most exciting entertainment gets stale over time. This is why we need to pause and ponder—to stop and listen . . . (period).

But we just as much need the Spirit’s exclamation points in our lives. The God of the period is the same God of the exclamation point. For the church has just as many sinners as she has members. The old Adam inside each of us would love nothing more than to fall asleep, to make the Christian life a dead routine, to engage in liturgy and hymns and pew-sitting as a disguise—a disguise to cover up our sinful self-satisfaction, our complacency and our lack of real repentance and serious stewardship. Attending a church you love can always become dangerously comfortable—a deadening routine in which the old Adam makes us feel proud and “spiritual,” while we turn a blind eye to the troubles and burdens of people around us. We can be glad that we attend a church that preaches and teaches the pure Word of God. And we can just as easily ignore that pure Word of God in every other hour of the week.

It is precisely then that the Holy Spirit graciously sends an exclamation point our way—a wake-up call that cuts us to the heart—a crushing blast of law that leads us to fall on our knees and cry out, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” It might be a sermon you hear. It might be a hymn that you sing that causes your voice to quake with emotion. It might be a word of admonition from a brother or sister in Christ that wakes you up. But behind that exclamation point is the Holy Spirit, the Lord and giver of life. He sends those exclamation points to stir up our hearts to repentance and to the joy that only Jesus can give.

On the day of Pentecost we are reminded again that our God will stop at nothing to save you. He uses periods and exclamation points, facts and feelings, ordinary and extraordinary, steady routines and shocking surprises, repetition and variety to make you His own and keep you as His own forever and ever.

The crucifixion cross of Jesus is God’s most powerful punctuation. In Jesus we have both period and exclamation point. It is finished—period. It is finished—exclamation point! Everything has been done for you and your salvation. Christ has died. Christ has risen. Christ has ascended to the throne of glory at the Father’s right hand. It is finished. Your sins are forgiven. The Spirit dwells in you. Nothing more needs to be done except to broadcast the victory. Preach it. Proclaim it. Make it known far and wide that Jesus Christ is the friend of sinners and the lover of souls. He was crucified for our trespasses and raised for our justification. In Jesus God has reconciled the world to Himself, not counting our sins against us. In Him we have redemption, the forgiveness of our sins.

The day will come when we won’t need exclamation points from the Holy Spirit to wake us up from complacency or to give us the joy of Jesus. Exclamation points will one day become obsolete—along with hospitals, obituaries, and cemeteries. For after the Lord awakens us on the last day, there will be no more crying, no more pain, no more death. Sorrow and sighing will flee away, and everlasting joy will be ours. But from what the Scriptures reveal to us about heaven, we know there will still be liturgy—the regular, steady, sustained praises of God sung by angels and archangels and all the company of heaven—including you.

For now, however, we need both. We need periods and we need exclamation points. The same Holy Spirit uses both—uses them to afflict the comfortable and to comfort the afflicted. The Holy Spirit is a stickler for just that kind of punctuation which He uses in just the right combination to draw you to Jesus Christ—and to keep you with Jesus Christ in the one true faith. Happy Pentecost (exclamation point)! Amen.