In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 4:18-22
January 22, 2017
Epiphany 3A
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
When someone assumes a new position, or lands a new job, those first few days can be critically important. The strategic choices and symbolic steps taken right on day one will often set the stage for years to come. We see this going on right now inour nation’s capital. Our newly inaugurated president has given a few speeches and issued some executive orders—hoping to lay out an agenda for the next four years.
When I first came to Our Savior as your new pastor, I didn’t issue any executive orders; but I do remember the critical importance of those first few weeks—how we began a year-long study of Luther’s Small Catechism, how I made as many home visits as I possibly could, and how I prepared to preach my very first sermon from this pulpit—a sermon entitled, “Let’s Run,” based on the words of Hebrews chapter 12: Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us. I’ve preached quite a few sermons since then . . . and led quite a few Bible studies, as well. But what happened on day one and week one—how we kicked things off—was very, very important.
This morning Jesus kicks things off. This morning St. Matthew lays out for us the significant steps Jesus took right as He began His public ministry. These first steps are not random or accidental. No, they lay out the Savior’s strategy from that day forward. And what we see more clearly than anything else—what emerges as priority number one for this new preacher is His great desire for followers. His very first official act—the first order of business—is to acquire followers. His first executive order consisted of two words: Follow me. Before the miracles and before the healings—before casting out even one unclean spirit—Jesus called people—ordinary people—to follow Him.
Jesus left His home in Nazareth—the place where He grew up—and moved into the region of Galilee. Seven centuries before this happened, the Prophet Isaiah had foretold how the Messiah would begin His ministry in Galilee—like a light dawning on those living in the land of the shadow of death. The geography of Galilee is dominated by the Sea of Galilee. And as the Savior walked that shoreline, He encountered two sets of brothers—fishermen one and all. First it was Peter and Andrew, followed by the sons of Zebedee, James and John. Jesus went to where they were. He called them and immediately they followed Him. Boom! What Jesus really wants are followers.
Now, on this particular Sunday, it seems like a good time to point out the difference between being a follower and being a fan. A lot of my fellow pastors have lamented how today’s Packer game will be a bit of a distraction for many people in the pews today—how visions of the Super Bowl are filling up all your available brain cells. I’m under no illusion that the sense of electric anticipation in the air this morning probably has less to do with my sermon than with what will transpire between the goal posts at the Georgia Dome this afternoon. So, in an effort to preach the hand I’ve been dealt, let me emphasize again that what Jesus wants are followers, not fans.
There’s a big difference between the two. Fans choose to be fans; but followers must be called. That’s why Jesus personally went to Peter, Andrew, James, and John. “Follow me,” He said, “and I will make you fishers of men.” That call—that invitation—was almost unheard of in those days. Back then it was customary for disciples to choose which rabbi they would follow. The student picked the teacher. But Jesus—as He began His new mission—He turned tradition on its head. Jesus did the choosing. Jesus took the initiative. Jesus called men to be His followers.
Fans are different than followers. Fans choose to be fans. I’m a Packer fan because I choose to be a Packer backer. I have made my decision to direct my football loyalties to the green and gold (although it’s just a happy coincidence that I’m wearing those colors right now). Jesus has a lot of fans. Lots of people routinely say nice things about Him. They cheer Him as a champion for the poor. They invoke Him as a man of peace. They try to model His morals. But Jesus doesn’t want any of that. Jesus doesn’t want fans; He wants followers. He wants YOU to follow Him in faith.
This is the best of news! In your baptism Jesus called you and saved you, and each day He guides your steps to follow Him. Jesus once told His disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last” (John 15:16). Jesus has chosen you. Jesus wants you—your faithful, fruit-bearing life. Oh, your life might not seem so important or exceptional. You may never be chose as MVP. But the reality is that you have been called by Jesus, saved by Jesus, chosen to follow Him all the way to Paradise. Whatever glory may be generated on the football field today is nothing compared to the glory that will be revealed in you—in the life of the world to come.
But you should know that it’s not easy being a follower of Jesus. You are being changed and used. Jesus has plans for you. Not many of you are called to be fishers of men. Most of you are not pastors or preachers. But Jesus is using you in whatever your vocations may be—as accountants of men, or mechanics of men, teachers of men, managers of men, or whatever. What matters is . . . Jesus has called you. He is shaping you for service to others in His name.
Following Jesus isn’t easy. We like to be fans; and fans like to win. But the followers of Jesus are called to lose in this life—to lose your life in Jesus. You are called to confess the worst about yourself—to repent of your sin. He wants us to deny ourselves and put the needs of others ahead of our own. He wants us to lose our lives in His life. Being a follower of Jesus means taking a stand on His Word—even when taking a stand is unpopular.
For instance, followers of Jesus are called to stand up for God’s gift of human life—and to decry the traumatic, life-terminating act of abortion. In these latter weeks of January we often pause to ponder the gift of life in the womb—and to mourn how abortion rejects that gift—and rejects God Himself. Since Jesus really does change and use those He calls to follow, then we need to be open for how He might use us to take a stand for the protection of the unborn. A Place of Refuge, The Blessed Again Re-Sale Shop, Eyewitness for Life, Lutherans for Life—there are so many ways and so many places right here in Milwaukee where followers of Jesus can be used by Jesus to bring light and life to those trapped in the darkness of sin and death. Will you follow where He leads?
Jesus wants followers—people like you to follow Him in this life, through death, to the life of the world to come. And so deeply does He desire that, that He laid down His life for the sin of the world. Jesus demonstrated His greatest power in the weakness of the cross. He shed His blood to cleanse you of every sin. Through Holy Baptism He has made your body to be a temple of the Holy Spirit—a sacred place which He uses to accomplish His holy purposes in this world.
It seems so simple, but it’s so true: The key to following Jesus in a life of discipleship is being with Jesus—being connected to Jesus—being a branch of that holy Vine. One of the most remarkable features of today’s Gospel reading is how those four disciples immediately left their nets and their boats and followed Jesus. Following Jesus meant being where Jesus was. For us, following Jesus means being here in the Divine Service, where Jesus gives Himself for us. Here His promises are proclaimed for you. Here His body and blood are given for you, for the forgiveness of sins. Here is the primary place where God chooses His people, changes His people, and uses His people for the life of the whole world. It all begins here.
So, where will it end? Well, Jesus will continue calling people to follow Him until the Last Day. You who have heard that invitation in faith will also hear it again. You will hear it spoken again for the last and final time on the day of resurrection. Then and there you will hear these grace-filled words of Jesus as you leave your grave behind: “Follow me,” He will say. For that is what Jesus really, really wants. Amen.
Monday, January 23, 2017
Monday, January 9, 2017
The Eye-Opening Power of Baptism
In Nomine Iesu
Matt. 3:13-17; Rom. 6
January 8, 2017
Baptism of Our Lord-A
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
Christmas is over. All twelve days have come and gone. The nativity is history. From my perspective as a pastor, Christmas always arrives too soon . . .and then disappears too soon, as well. Sometimes it seems like I missed it. But it’s myown fault, really. During Advent, when I should have been repenting and preparing the way for the Lord, I was worried about whether our sidewalks would be icy and what our Wednesday night attendance would be. When I drove to Notre Dame on December 15th to bring my daughter, Mary, home for Christmas after a successful first semester of college, I should have embraced the joy and pride and happiness of that journey; but instead I was concerned about lake-effect snow and staying ahead of the Chicago traffic. When we gathered here on Christmas Eve for lessons and carols and candlelight, I was thinking of lights and logistics and timing. Looking back at December now, it was all so extraordinarily beautiful and wonderful. Those moments were so rich and meaningful. But while it was happening—as it was all going on in real time—I missed it. I failed to see it for what it was.
We rarely see the significance of events while they are happening. Whether you’re standing at the altar preparing to say, “I do,” or kneeling at the altar for the Lord’s Supper, or singing “Silent Night” by candlelight, we rarely recognize those extraordinary moments while those extraordinary moments are happening. Only later—only in retrospect—do we begin to see what we missed at first.
The Baptism of Jesus is like that. Looking back today, soaking up all that the Scriptures tell us about this event on the banks of the Jordan River, we can easily see how extraordinarily rich with meaning it is. Here Jesus takes the first steps of His public ministry. Here He begins to identify with sinners like us. Here the heavens are opened. Here His identity as the eternal Son of God is enunciated clearly by the Father’s voice from heaven. Here all three persons of the Holy Trinity make a joint appearance as the Holy Spirit descends like a dove. Here God is at work to show us what a grand and glorious thing baptism is. Looking back now, we see that and celebrate that. We teach that and preach that and believe that about the Baptism of Our Lord.
But, as it was unfolding, as it was actually happening in real time—well, it was messy. It was awkward and unexpected. Things did not play out according to the script by which John had been operating. John had been preaching a Jesus who would burn the chaff with unquenchable fire—a Jesus whose sandals John wasn’t even worthy to stoop down and untie—a Jesus whose axe was razor-sharp and ready to cut down every tree that did not produce good fruit. And then Jesus showed up at the Jordan one day—an ordinary-looking guy from Galilee, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with sinners, seeking a sinners’ baptism. John wanted nothing to do with it. John objected. All the color must have drained from John’s face as Jesus stated plainly, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” It wasn’t nice and neat and well-orchestrated. Nobody (except for Jesus) truly saw the incredible, extraordinary, eternal significance of that moment.
The same thing is true where your own baptism is concerned. As it was happening, no one could truly see and believe the marvelous miracle that was unfolding. No one could see the Holy Spirit making your body His temple. No one could see that you were being born again. I’ve done enough baptisms to know what’s really going on in the minds of those who gather around the font: hoping that the baby doesn’t start screaming, wondering whether the diaper will stay dry, and trying to remember where to stand and what to say. Most baptisms are just as messy and just as awkward as was the baptism of Jesus by John. And to top it all off, if you were baptized as an infant, you don’t even remember it! That moment—the event of your own baptism into Christ—you can’t recall it no matter how hard you try. We rarely see the extraordinary importance of events while they are happening—including your own baptism.
Your enemy uses that fact to his advantage. Satan works hard to keep the extraordinary details of your baptism buried deep down in the pages of your life’s history. He wants to minimize, reduce and abbreviate whatever significance you attach to your baptism. He’s hoping that you’ll forget (or never take to heart) how that splash of water and the Word transformed you forever—how in that moment you were born again—that then and there God made you dead to sin but alive to Him in Christ Jesus. The devil hates those details. The devil is ever-so-diligent in deadening you to the glorious truth of what your baptism means—that you are now God’s own child, called not to continue in sin, but to turn from it in faith and repentance—to walk in newness of life.
For what is true of the grand and glorious moments of our lives is also true of our worst moments—our most sinful moments: We do not see the significance of our sins while we are sinning. In fact, while we are sinning, our minds are filled with justifications and rationalizations and perfectly crafted excuses. Only later on—only after our transgressions have transpired—only as Satan’s awful accusations begin to rain down upon us—do we begin to realize the wretched reality we have wrought. Our conscience is crushed as our sin sinks in. But precisely then, when the enemy whispers, “You’re no child of God. You’re not holy. How can you call yourself a Christian?,” when all you can do is admit the worst about yourself—precisely then you can draw upon the most extraordinary, significant, miraculous event that ever happened to you. Fully, freely, joyfully you can declare, “I am baptized.”
Jesus came for sinners—to redeem sinners. He came for sick and broken people. As the Prophet Isaiah looked ahead to the coming of the Christ, he wrote, “a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not snuff out.” In the ancient world a bruised reed was a rather useless thing. A modern equivalent might be a pen that has run out of ink. What’s left to do with such a pen but throw it away? Likewise in the ancient world a smoldering wick was a rather useless thing. A smoldering wick meant that the darkness was soon to descend upon you. A modern equivalent might be a burned-out light bulb. What’s left to do with a burned-out bulb but throw it away? But Jesus, the Servant of the Lord, He won’t do it. A bruised reed He will not break. A faintly burning wick He will not snuff out. He comes not to condemn sinners, but to stand with them shoulder-to-shoulder. He comes to bear your sins—to suffer for your sins—to be your sacred substitute in the face of God’s righteous wrath.
We rarely see the extraordinary significance of events while they are happening. Never was that more true than on Good Friday when Jesus was crucified as a common criminal. In real time He appeared to be a good man who just happened to get on the wrong side of powerful people. He appeared to be a miracle-worker who died for what He believed in. But looking back, we know better. For our eyes have been opened by the power of our baptism. We can see clearly. This is God’s beloved Son! The death He died—He died for you. The sins that condemned Him that day were your sins. And this awful assignment as your sin-bearing substitute—Jesus undertook it willingly and freely for your sake. And the acceptance of this assignment—His first steps to save you—were taken on the muddy banks of the Jordan River. There He began to fulfill all righteousness . . . to make you righteous. That was a gift you received in your own baptism.
We rarely see the significance of events while they are happening—even here in the divine service. Here—in real time—things just don’t seem very practical or efficient. Sermons seem like such an old-fashioned way to communicate. Confessing our sins doesn’t seem like the path to holiness. The music isn’t what’s popular or trending at the top of the charts. The Holy Supper of our Lord’s body and blood doesn’t seem all that holy at the time, but meager and insignificant. But your eyes have been opened wide in baptism. Through the lenses of faith you can see things as they really are. You know that right here the gifts of heaven come to earth—that angels tend this altar and this pulpit—that Jesus Himself comes here in the flesh to give you life that lasts forever.
In this New Year, God grant us the ability to see God’s blessings as they come—as they are happening—in real time—with no worries about tomorrow and no regrets about yesterday. God grant us to see our family members as gifts from God, not just while the Christmas tree is up, but also on Monday mornings at 7:30 or whenever challenges seem to loom the largest. God grant us to see the space between these four walls as sacred space, where God is at work in real time, deserving every ounce of reverence and all the awe we can muster.
You are baptized. And that baptism is everything. It tells you who you are. It tells you whose you are. And it becomes more meaningful with every passing year. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Matt. 3:13-17; Rom. 6
January 8, 2017
Baptism of Our Lord-A
Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~
Christmas is over. All twelve days have come and gone. The nativity is history. From my perspective as a pastor, Christmas always arrives too soon . . .and then disappears too soon, as well. Sometimes it seems like I missed it. But it’s myown fault, really. During Advent, when I should have been repenting and preparing the way for the Lord, I was worried about whether our sidewalks would be icy and what our Wednesday night attendance would be. When I drove to Notre Dame on December 15th to bring my daughter, Mary, home for Christmas after a successful first semester of college, I should have embraced the joy and pride and happiness of that journey; but instead I was concerned about lake-effect snow and staying ahead of the Chicago traffic. When we gathered here on Christmas Eve for lessons and carols and candlelight, I was thinking of lights and logistics and timing. Looking back at December now, it was all so extraordinarily beautiful and wonderful. Those moments were so rich and meaningful. But while it was happening—as it was all going on in real time—I missed it. I failed to see it for what it was.
We rarely see the significance of events while they are happening. Whether you’re standing at the altar preparing to say, “I do,” or kneeling at the altar for the Lord’s Supper, or singing “Silent Night” by candlelight, we rarely recognize those extraordinary moments while those extraordinary moments are happening. Only later—only in retrospect—do we begin to see what we missed at first.
The Baptism of Jesus is like that. Looking back today, soaking up all that the Scriptures tell us about this event on the banks of the Jordan River, we can easily see how extraordinarily rich with meaning it is. Here Jesus takes the first steps of His public ministry. Here He begins to identify with sinners like us. Here the heavens are opened. Here His identity as the eternal Son of God is enunciated clearly by the Father’s voice from heaven. Here all three persons of the Holy Trinity make a joint appearance as the Holy Spirit descends like a dove. Here God is at work to show us what a grand and glorious thing baptism is. Looking back now, we see that and celebrate that. We teach that and preach that and believe that about the Baptism of Our Lord.
But, as it was unfolding, as it was actually happening in real time—well, it was messy. It was awkward and unexpected. Things did not play out according to the script by which John had been operating. John had been preaching a Jesus who would burn the chaff with unquenchable fire—a Jesus whose sandals John wasn’t even worthy to stoop down and untie—a Jesus whose axe was razor-sharp and ready to cut down every tree that did not produce good fruit. And then Jesus showed up at the Jordan one day—an ordinary-looking guy from Galilee, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with sinners, seeking a sinners’ baptism. John wanted nothing to do with it. John objected. All the color must have drained from John’s face as Jesus stated plainly, “Let it be so now, for thus it is fitting for us to fulfill all righteousness.” It wasn’t nice and neat and well-orchestrated. Nobody (except for Jesus) truly saw the incredible, extraordinary, eternal significance of that moment.
The same thing is true where your own baptism is concerned. As it was happening, no one could truly see and believe the marvelous miracle that was unfolding. No one could see the Holy Spirit making your body His temple. No one could see that you were being born again. I’ve done enough baptisms to know what’s really going on in the minds of those who gather around the font: hoping that the baby doesn’t start screaming, wondering whether the diaper will stay dry, and trying to remember where to stand and what to say. Most baptisms are just as messy and just as awkward as was the baptism of Jesus by John. And to top it all off, if you were baptized as an infant, you don’t even remember it! That moment—the event of your own baptism into Christ—you can’t recall it no matter how hard you try. We rarely see the extraordinary importance of events while they are happening—including your own baptism.
Your enemy uses that fact to his advantage. Satan works hard to keep the extraordinary details of your baptism buried deep down in the pages of your life’s history. He wants to minimize, reduce and abbreviate whatever significance you attach to your baptism. He’s hoping that you’ll forget (or never take to heart) how that splash of water and the Word transformed you forever—how in that moment you were born again—that then and there God made you dead to sin but alive to Him in Christ Jesus. The devil hates those details. The devil is ever-so-diligent in deadening you to the glorious truth of what your baptism means—that you are now God’s own child, called not to continue in sin, but to turn from it in faith and repentance—to walk in newness of life.
For what is true of the grand and glorious moments of our lives is also true of our worst moments—our most sinful moments: We do not see the significance of our sins while we are sinning. In fact, while we are sinning, our minds are filled with justifications and rationalizations and perfectly crafted excuses. Only later on—only after our transgressions have transpired—only as Satan’s awful accusations begin to rain down upon us—do we begin to realize the wretched reality we have wrought. Our conscience is crushed as our sin sinks in. But precisely then, when the enemy whispers, “You’re no child of God. You’re not holy. How can you call yourself a Christian?,” when all you can do is admit the worst about yourself—precisely then you can draw upon the most extraordinary, significant, miraculous event that ever happened to you. Fully, freely, joyfully you can declare, “I am baptized.”
Jesus came for sinners—to redeem sinners. He came for sick and broken people. As the Prophet Isaiah looked ahead to the coming of the Christ, he wrote, “a bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not snuff out.” In the ancient world a bruised reed was a rather useless thing. A modern equivalent might be a pen that has run out of ink. What’s left to do with such a pen but throw it away? Likewise in the ancient world a smoldering wick was a rather useless thing. A smoldering wick meant that the darkness was soon to descend upon you. A modern equivalent might be a burned-out light bulb. What’s left to do with a burned-out bulb but throw it away? But Jesus, the Servant of the Lord, He won’t do it. A bruised reed He will not break. A faintly burning wick He will not snuff out. He comes not to condemn sinners, but to stand with them shoulder-to-shoulder. He comes to bear your sins—to suffer for your sins—to be your sacred substitute in the face of God’s righteous wrath.
We rarely see the extraordinary significance of events while they are happening. Never was that more true than on Good Friday when Jesus was crucified as a common criminal. In real time He appeared to be a good man who just happened to get on the wrong side of powerful people. He appeared to be a miracle-worker who died for what He believed in. But looking back, we know better. For our eyes have been opened by the power of our baptism. We can see clearly. This is God’s beloved Son! The death He died—He died for you. The sins that condemned Him that day were your sins. And this awful assignment as your sin-bearing substitute—Jesus undertook it willingly and freely for your sake. And the acceptance of this assignment—His first steps to save you—were taken on the muddy banks of the Jordan River. There He began to fulfill all righteousness . . . to make you righteous. That was a gift you received in your own baptism.
We rarely see the significance of events while they are happening—even here in the divine service. Here—in real time—things just don’t seem very practical or efficient. Sermons seem like such an old-fashioned way to communicate. Confessing our sins doesn’t seem like the path to holiness. The music isn’t what’s popular or trending at the top of the charts. The Holy Supper of our Lord’s body and blood doesn’t seem all that holy at the time, but meager and insignificant. But your eyes have been opened wide in baptism. Through the lenses of faith you can see things as they really are. You know that right here the gifts of heaven come to earth—that angels tend this altar and this pulpit—that Jesus Himself comes here in the flesh to give you life that lasts forever.
In this New Year, God grant us the ability to see God’s blessings as they come—as they are happening—in real time—with no worries about tomorrow and no regrets about yesterday. God grant us to see our family members as gifts from God, not just while the Christmas tree is up, but also on Monday mornings at 7:30 or whenever challenges seem to loom the largest. God grant us to see the space between these four walls as sacred space, where God is at work in real time, deserving every ounce of reverence and all the awe we can muster.
You are baptized. And that baptism is everything. It tells you who you are. It tells you whose you are. And it becomes more meaningful with every passing year. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)