Stand Steadfast against Transgression

Jesu Juva

Romans 6:12-23                                                 

June 21, 2026

Proper 7A                 

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        Let not sin reign in your mortal bodies.  Stand steadfast against sin.  Resist trespass and transgression.  So says Saint Paul, smack dab in the center of Romans chapter six.  And this should come as no surprise.  You expect to hear this kind of thing from the pulpit.  You expect to read words like these in your Bible.  Nearly every sermon highlights the dangerous and deadly effects of sin.

        But today’s epistle reading does far more than just warn against the dangers of sin.  Today’s text is a call to do battle against sin—to actively resist transgression—to stand steadfast against every trespass.  Don’t give up!  Don’t give in!  Don’t let the sin win!  And, certainly, don’t celebrate the sin!  Instead:  Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal bodies.

        Romans chapter six is like a manual for Christian living.  It lays out the plan of life for all those who have been baptized into Christ.  To be baptized is to die and rise again with Jesus.  Baptism transforms you.  The baptized no longer walk in the darkness of sin and death.  We walk in the newness of life.  And in this new life we are dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

        And if we are dead to sin, then sin simply cannot be allowed to dominate the lives of the baptized.  This is why it says:  Let not sin reign in your mortal bodies.  Don’t let sin have its way with you.  Sin is not the boss of you.  You are not helpless.  You are not powerless.  You are baptized.  You belong to the body of Christ.  Your body is His temple.  You are one redeemed by Christ the crucified.  Today’s reading from Romans makes this crystal clear:  To know Christ by faith—to be baptized into Christ—is also to be given the power to obey Christ—to walk in the obedience of faith.

        You are called to “fight back.”  Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal bodies.  Don’t roll over and play dead.  When it comes to your sinful passions and your ungodly urges and your cravings and your compulsions—just say no.  Are you baptized into Christ?  Then you are called to continual, constant, resolute denial of every form of unrighteousness.

        Of course, that requires discipline and intentionality and self-denial.  In fact, it requires a kind of “slavery.”  Just as a good first century slave would focus on obeying his master, so must you focus on the holiness that is yours through faith in Christ Jesus.  You are no longer a slave to sin.  Yours is a different kind of servitude—and a different kind of Master.  You are slaves of God—Him you serve with single-minded devotion and discipline.  And this you do, not because you have some commandment-keeping superpower—but because you have experienced His grace.  You know His love, His mercy and compassion.  You are not driven by the Law, but carried along by the grace of God.

        But the church at Rome was infected—infected with the same kind of cool, calculated logic that weakens us and poisons us in our battle against sin.  After all, we believe in the forgiveness of sins.  We believe that Jesus has saved us from our sins.  So, we conclude, why not go on sinning?  If God forgives sins then why not give into a little sinful passion now and then?  There is no fruit so sweet and succulent as forbidden fruit.  Why not sample some of that? (In moderation, of course.)  Why not?

        Sin—on the front end—is always sweet and succulent, alluring and enticing.  It promises every pleasure; but delivers only death.  Johann Sebastian Bach’s Cantata 54 is based on this very idea from Romans chapter six.  The first line of the opening aria is translated this way:  Stand steadfast against the transgression.  It goes on to warn against the “poison,” the “curse,” and the “fatal doom” faced by those who are ensnared and blinded by sin.

        Now, if you were Bach—if you wanted to set that message to music—what would the music sound like?  I think I would have those words of warning sung by a thundering bass in a threatening, minor key full of doom.  But not Bach.  He takes this warning to stand steadfast against sin; and he assigns it to a sultry and sensuous alto voice.  And the entire aria begins with a sweetly pulsating seventh chord—a rich dissonance played on sweet strings that builds and soars and climbs until blissfully resolving into a soothing tonic chord. [Listen . . .]

        Why does Bach wed that stern text about resisting transgression to such a sensuous musical setting?  As a good Lutheran, Bach knew that when sinful passions appear, they don’t appear poisonous.  They don’t appear like zombies or corpses—as deadly, deadening dangers.  They sound like the siren’s song, sweet and sensuous.  And that pulsating seventh chord is a reminder that the assaults of the evil one never let up—that he never surrenders—that he constantly and repeatedly seeks to destroy your faith in a way that seems to you delightfully harmless.

        But hear what Bach’s alto sings.  Take to heart her message:  Stand steadfast against transgression, or its poison will seize you.  She’s calling you to battle.  Gird your loins.  The wages of sin is death, don’t you know?  Resist the sin.  Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal bodies.

        How does sin want to reign over you?  In what part of your life does sin demand to dominate?  Today’s text actually mentions the “members” of your body—members which get hijacked for unrighteousness:  eyes, ears, tongue, hands, etc.  Where is your resistance lacking?  Where is the chink in your armor?  Is sexual immorality your downfall?  Do wrath and rage rule your every reaction?  Are you consumed by jealousy over the success of others? Are you driven by greed and creature comforts?  Or do utter laziness and apathy weigh you down with inaction and sloth?

        Beloved in the Lord, let not sin reign in your mortal bodies!  You are baptized into Christ!  Stand firm against transgression!  You are dead to sin; you are alive to Christ Jesus!  Do not go on sinning so that grace may be cheaply obtained.  But resist the sin with all your might because you have been given a precious and priceless grace—grace upon grace—grace that poured in crimson streams from the wounds of God’s own Son on the cross.  There the wages of your sin were painfully paid out in full against Jesus, your Savior.  And there the free gift of eternal life was secured for you.

        It’s not that you don’t sin, or that you won’t sin.  Perfection will be yours; but not in this mortal life.  But you have indeed been set free from sin—to walk in newness of life.  So live like it.  Let your baptism be your guide.  Let not sin reign in your mortal bodies.

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

 

Our Lord's Lenses of Love

Jesu Juva

St. Matthew 9:35-10:8                                        

June 14, 2026

Proper 6A      

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        Did the Son of God need glasses?  Did the Savior need spectacles?  It’s a possibility that our Lord’s vision was not 20/20.  As a true man, He was just like us—vulnerable to viruses and vision problems.  And based on today’s Holy Gospel, I’m more convinced than ever that there was something special about our Lord’s eyesight.  It’s as plain as the nose on your face:  Jesus just doesn’t see things the way we do.

        There’s a lot going on in today’s reading from Matthew.  It’s a time of transition in the ministry of Jesus.  But at every twist and turn, it’s obvious:  Jesus just sees the world differently.  He doesn’t act—or react—the way we would.  Our Lord Jesus sees it all through the lenses of love.

        Today’s reading begins with Jesus doing what He did best:  He was teaching.  He was preaching.  He was healing every disease and affliction.  Jesus was out there.  The Son of Man was a man of the people.  It’s what you would expect of any self-respecting Messiah.  But what you might not expect is how Jesus reacted to that vast sea of humanity:  When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

        Jesus looked at those lost souls through the eyes of compassion—or, more accurately, he felt compassion for them in his bowels.  We westerners think that compassion is something you feel in your heart; but in Bible times the bowels (or the guts, if you prefer) were the seat of human feelings.  When Jesus saw the crowds, He had compassion for them—deep, deep down in His guts.  And this compassion is a divine compassion—divinely different from anything you or I might feel. 

And let me remind you of this: Jesus has this same divine compassion for you.  When you are harassed.  When you are helpless.  When you are weak.  When your spirit is crushed—the compassionate Christ comes calling.

        Such profound compassion is often the last thing we feel for harassed and helpless people.  On our best days we see other people as a drain on our time, our energy, our resources.  And on our worst days we view other people as worthless underachievers—as entitled, unenlightened, deadbeats who really don’t deserve our time and energy.  Compassion is not our strong suit. 

        But Jesus—He doesn’t see things the way we do (thankfully!).  Jesus sees people through the lenses of love and compassion.  He saw the crowds as “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.”  Sheep without a shepherd aren’t long for this world!  Jesus knew that those harassed and helpless people were victims—victims of evil spiritual forces that were beyond their control. 

        These days, everybody claims to be a victim.  But Jesus sees who the genuine victims are.  He sees what that liar the devil does to you.  He sees what this dark world does to you.  He sees what your own sinful nature does to you.  He sees all that; but that’s not all He sees. 

The Russian writer Dostoevsky penned this profoundly helpful sentence:  To love a person means to see him as God intended him to be.  If you’re up for a challenge, give that a try sometime.  Start seeing people not as they are—not according to their faults and failings and sins—but as God intended them to be.  From experience I can tell you, it is much, much harder than it sounds.  Hard for us, but not for Jesus.

        This is the mystery of our Lord’s great love and compassion for us—for us who are harassed and helpless, selfish and sinful.  Our Lord sees us through lenses that are, on the one hand, perfectly accurate.  He sees our sin.  He knows how terribly needy we are.  But at the same time, Jesus sees us through the lenses of love and compassion—sees us as children of God, made in His image, created for eternal life and eternal love.  We can’t quite see that; but Jesus can.

        Jesus doesn’t see things the way we do.  As we look out at our world today, things look grim.  Strife and division and hatred and violence and lies—these things seem to have the upper hand.  Especially for you—for Bible-believing, Christ-confessing, baptized children of God—things don’t look good.  When it comes to the one, holy, Christian and apostolic church, things look bleak indeed. 

        But that’s not what Jesus sees.  Jesus looks at this world and He sees fields ripe for harvest.  The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few.  If you were to drive through my home state of Kansas right now, you would see amber waves of wheat for as far as the eye can see.  The time for harvest is approaching.

        Jesus sees that even now—a harvest of people who are ripe and ready to respond to the gospel in faith.  What should we do?  Step up our outreach efforts?  Invite more people to church?  Increase our gifts to our seminaries?  Recruit more men to serve as pastors?  Maybe so.  But Jesus simply says, “Pray.”  Pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest.  The harvest is His.  And behind every laborer—behind every priest and pastor and missionary—stands the Lord Jesus Christ who wants all people to be saved, who looks at all nations through the lenses of love.  We may not be able to see the harvest; but Jesus can.  Let’s pray earnestly concerning that harvest—just as we do every time we pray, “Thy kingdom come.”

        And to help with that harvest, St. Matthew tells us about the assembly of the Twelve disciples.  The starting Twelve are called and claimed, named and sent.  Simon Peter and Andrew, James and John, Philip and Bartholomew, Thomas and Matthew, James, Thaddaeus, Simon, and Judas Iscariot (who betrayed him).  Judas may be the most notorious, but all twelve are sinners.  All twelve will find spectacular ways to fail.  All twelve will do and say disappointing things.  Why would Jesus want to partner with these men?  Why would Jesus want to partner with pastors today like me?  Why does Jesus want to give these men a share in the mission when He knows full well that these sheep will be scattered and will all run away when the going gets tough?

        Well, once again, Jesus just doesn’t see things the way we do.  He came for a world of sinners—to save us from our sins.  He sees everything filtered through His cross and resurrection.  We’re all members of our Lord’s team.  Not all are apostles or pastors.  But we’ve all been named and claimed in the waters of baptism.  We’ve all been enlisted to lend a hand where the harvest is concerned.  We’ve all been entrusted to speak the truth in love.  And this is all grace. 

As with any team, we all have different roles as disciples.  Some are in the starting rotation, or batting clean-up.  Others of us just hang out in the bullpen most of the time, offering relief when needed.  One of today’s hymns reminds us: If you cannot speak like angels, if you cannot preach like Paul, you can tell the love of Jesus, you can say He died for all.

        How can this be?  Because Jesus sees us through the lenses of love and compassion.  He sees you, here and now, as one for whom He died—one for whom His blood was shed—one whose sins are forgiven—one who will not perish, but have eternal life.  While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 

His love and compassion are at work in you, helping you to see things the way He does.  His lenses of love can correct your vision too.  You can’t do everything Jesus did.  But you can indeed begin to see the world the way He does, loving others as you yourself are loved by Jesus.

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.