Monday, June 26, 2017

Shout It From the Rooftops!

In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 10:21-33
June 25, 2017
Pentecost 3/Proper 7A

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

When was the last time you were up on your rooftop? Hanging out on the roof isn’t something that most of us do very often—if we can help it. In fact, if you are on your rooftop, it usually means that something bad has happened: the roof is leaking, shingles have blown away, the chimney is collapsing, or the birds have come home to roost above your resting place. As for me, I’ve never once been on the
parsonage roof. And that’s a streak I intend to keep alive.

So it sounds a little strange to our ears when we hear Jesus telling His disciples to proclaim things from the housetops. We automatically assume that Jesus is just giving us another of His famous figures of speech—perhaps dabbling happily in a little hyperbole—exaggerating to make a point. Jesus doesn’t literally want us climbing our ladders and shouting things from our rooftops, does He? Well, don’t write off those rooftops too quickly!

Back in the day when and where Jesus first spoke these words, He was being more literal than you might imagine. Back then people proclaimed things from the rooftops all the time—every day. How so? Well, first of all, most rooftops in Israel and in other arid places are flat—and therefore not nearly so dangerous to navigate. What’s more, at a time before there was air conditioning, the rooftop was a great place to hang out to catch a cool evening breeze when the house itself was uncomfortably warm. In this way, rooftops became a place of socialization, where neighbors would converse and kibitz and pass along the latest scuttlebutt. Rooftops in Jesus’ day served a purpose much like the front porches of small town America back in the last century.

In Matthew chapter 10 it’s the Twelve apostles that Jesus has directed up to the rooftops. He was sending out the Twelve on their first missionary journey. They were being sent only to the lost sheep of Israel—only to fellow Jews. (Gentiles would be targeted later.) Jesus was sending them up to the rooftops so as to give maximum publicity to His teachings. What Jesus had been teaching them in private, was now to be proclaimed and preached in public. The Twelve were now to seek out those rooftops and other venues which would afford the maximum exposure. That makes perfect sense, right? It’s like something from a marketing strategies textbook.

But here’s my question: What about when the message we’re given to shout and share from the rooftops is unpopular? What about when the message we shout and share will be mocked by most people? What about when the messengers are setting themselves up for rejection, or persecution, or worse? What about when the God-given message we share seems to drive away more people than it attracts?

These questions aren’t hypothetical. In fact, Jesus told the Twelve that they would be “hated by all” for His name’s sake. This was also the situation faced by the prophet Jeremiah in today’s Old Testament reading. Jeremiah was called by God to proclaim from the rooftops an unpopular message of death and destruction—of doom and gloom—of wrath and judgment—for God’s people. Meanwhile, there was a multitude of false prophets who were busy shouting peace and prosperity from the rooftops—that God would never allow His chosen people to be chewed up and spit out by the Babylonians. It comes as no surprise to learn that the pews in Jeremiah’s church were collecting a lot of dust.

What do you do? What do you do when God gives you an unpopular message to shout from the rooftops? What do you say when God’s gift of marriage—when natural marriage—is rejected in favor of a cleverly legalized arrangement called “gay marriage?” What do you say when God’s gift of identity—when God’s bodily gift of maleness and femaleness—is rejected in favor of a self-chosen gender identity? Or what about the heterosexual couple you know that’s living together—but doing so without the blessing of marriage? Or what about when God’s gift of life in the womb is being massacred daily by abortionists right in our own backyards?

It’s easy to say and do nothing. It’s easy just to keep your head down. It’s easy just to go with the flow. It’s far more difficult to proclaim that the wages of sin is death—that those who choose to reject God and His Word will one day face eternal punishment (if they do not repent). And no matter how lovingly and how patiently you choose to speak the truth in these matters, you will never earn a round of applause or a standing ovation.

What do you do personally when God gives you a hard message to speak—when as part of your vocation as a parent, a friend, a family member—you are called to confront sin—to call someone to correction—to lead them to repentance—to say the unpopular thing? By nature, we have no desire to say such things, let alone proclaim them from the rooftops or anywhere else, for that matter. Rather than heading upstairs for the rooftop, we by nature make a beeline for the basement—deep down to where it’s easy to stay silent, to be safe, to keep comfortable, to make no waves, to do what’s convenient and easy. And even if you do decide to head up to the “rooftop,” Jesus doesn’t promise that it will be easy. Nor does He promise that the words you speak in love will always achieve their intended purpose.

But for every disciple who dares to dash up to the rooftop—to faithfully bear witness to the teachings of Jesus—Jesus does say this: Do not be afraid. In fact, in today’s Gospel reading He says it three times: Have no fear of them. . . . Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. . . . Fear not for you are of more value than a multitude of sparrows and even the hairs of your head are numbered. The fear that controls us and keeps us quiet and muzzled most of the time—Jesus wants us to leave that fear behind. Trust Him. Follow Him in faith. What you hear whispered from the pages of your Bible, proclaim from the housetops. Because—come hell or high water—your body and soul are in His holy care. The God who knows when a single sparrow falls to the ground—the One who knows the number of hairs on your head—He knows just the help you need.

The wages of sin is death. It’s true. But the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. He was killed on Good Friday—nailed to a cross. But by that death your sin was done away with. By that death He destroyed death and opened the kingdom of heaven to all believers. And that free gift of salvation is offered to all people—to every son and daughter of Adam. No one is excluded. The forgiveness of sins and the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting—that’s God’s free gift for you and for all who believe.

But some people—perhaps someone in your life—may only come to know and receive that gift because you cared enough to leave the basement behind and head up to the rooftop to speak the truth in love. Christ Jesus died to save sinners, of whom we are the worst. We are not perfect, but we are forgiven in Jesus, and that makes all the difference. That’s the good news that we are privileged to proclaim from the rooftops—to neighbors, family, co-workers, and friends. God has reconciled the world to Himself in Jesus.

That’s what we call the gospel. God Himself has proclaimed it from the top of Mount Calvary. God Himself has proclaimed it from the empty tomb of the resurrected Jesus. God still proclaims it today from this pulpit, from that font, and from this altar. His loving care for you reaches into eternity. That’s what He Himself is proclaiming today—loud and clear—for all to hear.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Monday, June 19, 2017

A Father's Love

In Nomine Iesu
Romans 5:6-15
June 18, 2017
Pentecost 2 (Proper 6A)

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

It just so happens that today is Fathers’ Day. Now, Fathers’ Day isn’t a church festival. But it’s one of those rare instances where the culture and the church are in basic agreement. Fathers should be honored. Christians are called by God to honor their fathers (and their mothers) every day, and not just on the third Sunday in June. And there’s never a bad time to reflect on, and give thanks for, God’s gift of fathers.

I suspect that my father was probably like a lot of other fathers of his time. My dad didn’t often verbalize his affection for me and my sisters. The words, “I love you,” didn’t pass through his lips on a daily basis. But I never had any doubt about my father’s love. Why not? Because he demonstrated his love for me every day. He showed it all the time: by going to work at a job that he didn’t always enjoy, by cheering me on at cross country meets and basketball games, by helping me buy my first car and teaching me how to change the oil, and by disciplining me when I needed it. Most importantly, he brought my family to the Divine Service every Sunday. It didn’t matter the weather, or what our weekend activities were, or whether he and my mom were out late on Saturday night, we were in the Lord’s house on the Lord’s Day. In these and so many other ways my father’s love was demonstrated. He showed it—and kept on showing it—by his deeds and actions.

This is also how our heavenly Father loves His dear children. He shows it! He demonstrates it! He makes it perfectly clear, not just in word, but also in deeds. That’s really the theme of today’s reading from Romans chapter 5. There it says plainly and clearly: God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Beloved in the Lord, that’s the beating heart of the good news we’ve been proclaiming here at Our Savior for the past 84 years. Christ died for us. In our place. As our substitute. Look at Jesus hanging on the cross and think of all the Biblical foreshadowing: the ram that was sacrificed instead of Isaac, the Passover Lambs that died in place of all the first born, the Scapegoat on the Day of Atonement. It all pointed ahead to Christ as the stand-in for sinners—Christ the vicarious victim.

Of course, what’s so stunning about this kind of love is that God shows it to sinners. Christ died for us . . . while we were still sinners. Jesus is godly; we are ungodly. Christ is sinless; we are sin-full. Yet, Christ died for us. Examples of love being shown in this way are really hard to come by. A parent might do it for a child. A husband might do it for his wife. It’s more common to hear about the soldier who lays down his life to save a fellow soldier. The battlefields of history are filled with those kinds of heroic accounts. And those are certainly valiant, heroic deaths. But they aren’t vicarious in the sense of Romans five. Heroic, yes, but not vicarious—not substitute sacrifices.

Christ died for the ungodly—for sinners, for His enemies. He took the place of those who hated Him—not His family and friends, but His enemies—those who wanted Him dead and gone. By the way, you and I are included in that group. Yes, you—good, decent, hard-working, church-going, you. Yet by nature, apart from Jesus, you are just another ungodly, sinful, enemy of God. But this is how our heavenly Father shows His love and demonstrates His love: while we were yet sinners—dead in our sins—Jesus Christ died for us.

It was one life in exchange for another. Jesus became the sinner in place of every sinner; and we, in Him, become the saint, holy and righteous before God. This is what Paul means we he writes that we are “justified by His blood.” The blood of Jesus shed on the cross is your righteousness before God. It covers who you are . . . with who Jesus is. When God looks at you, He doesn’t see your sin any more, but He sees the blood of His Son, and the perfect life He lived as your sacred substitute. And even though your sins are many and they are great, yet His holy, precious blood is greater. By the blood He shed, you can stand before God blameless.

Do you see why this good news has to be repeatedly proclaimed, over and over again, week after week? Do you see why we can never take this for granted? The demonstration of the Father’s love by sending His Son is totally unique. This is something our reason and our senses alone cannot comprehend—that Christ should come and die for the ungodly, for sinners, for His enemies, and that in that death we are justified before God.

And do you see what this means for us in our daily living? It means the end of all attempts to bargain with God, to impress God, to bribe God, or to butter Him up with your impressive spiritual and charitable accomplishments. This is exactly where every other world religion goes off the rails. Whether Judaism or Islam or the Jehovah’s Witnesses—it makes no difference. For every other religion begins and ends with YOU demonstrating YOUR love for God—YOU showing God how much you love HIM by YOUR obedience, YOUR submission, YOUR willingness to do radical things as a demonstration of your devotion. But the faith we confess begins and ends with God—God showing and demonstrating His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. While we were still His enemies, He loved us in His Son. He reconciled us. And He does it all without asking our permission or waiting around for us to come to our senses. He just does it. He justifies sinners—by grace, for Christ’s sake, through faith.

This is the love of our heavenly Father—love that’s both spoken and demonstrated in His Son. Oh, and by the way, today’s text from Romans five literally says that God keeps on showing His love. He continually, in an ongoing way, shows His love in your life. God’s love demonstrated at the cross, is still being demonstrated today. Your baptism is an expression of that love. There at the font He adopted you to be His own dear child and washed away your sins. Today God keeps on showing His love for you by feeding you with the very body and blood of His Son. In this meal God takes the love He poured out at the cross and gives it to you personally. He forgives all the sins that would otherwise make you unlovable.

Today’s Holy Gospel reminds us of another way God keeps on showing His love for you—by sending laborers into your life—by sending pastors and preachers so that you don’t have to go through your days harassed and helpless and hopeless, like sheep without a shepherd. For 84 years your heavenly Father has been sending His called and ordained servants to this little flock. And these men, with all their faults and frailties, are a flesh-and-blood demonstration of God’s love for you—laborers sent to gather the harvest.

As we remember our fathers today and give thanks to God for them—and as we pray for fathers everywhere—remember that you are reconciled to your heavenly Father, through His Son. He is good. He is gracious. He loves you and shows you that love until He calls you to dwell with Him forever. Happy Fathers’ Day.

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

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Something Out of Nothing

In Nomine Iesu
Genesis 1
June 11, 2017
The Holy Trinity A

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. It is verse one, of chapter one, of book number one, of the Holy Scriptures. It is the genesis of Genesis. It’s one Bible verse that nearly all of us have learned by heart. It tells us of the beginning of all things, and points ahead to the fulfillment of all things. Genesis 1:1 tells the whole story for us on this Holy Trinity Sunday. In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

In our usual way of speaking, it’s God the Father who typically gets the credit for the work of creation. But in fact, all three
persons of the Holy Trinity were actively involved in creation. Today’s text reminds us that “the Spirit—the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters.” The plural pronouns of today’s text also indicate the presence of the three persons of the Trinity: “Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.” Colossians chapter one closes the deal when Paul writes of Jesus: “For by Him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible” (1:16).

The Scriptures just don’t allow us divide up the works of God among the persons of the Godhead. And even though I love a good baseball analogy, it just doesn’t work to say that God the Father is like the starting pitcher who gets the game rolling, and that the Son is the middle reliever who clinches the game, and that the Holy Spirit is the closer who always locks up the game with a “save.” No, the truth is that all three were already on the mound in the top of the first well before the first batter stepped out of the dugout. It’s not a good analogy.

But before there was a game known as baseball, there was a creed of the Christian faith known as the Athanasian Creed. The Athanasian Creed contains no bad analogies. There’s no fluff there. Just clear, concrete, hardcore theology. You have to love the Athanasian Creed. It leaves no stone unturned, no angle unexamined, no wiggle room for any alternative gods. The Athanasian Creed takes no prisoners. It proclaims the unvarnished truth of who God is—three distinct persons—the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit—united together as one divine being—distinguishable but not divisible. In other words, you can tell them apart but you can’t pull them apart and you can’t have them apart.

In the beginning, God—the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit—created. That word, created, gets used in a very particular way in the pages of the Old Testament. Only God Himself is used as the subject of that verb, created. Abraham created nothing. Moses created nothing. David, Solomon, Elijah—bupkis, nada, zilch. You see, the word “create” in Genesis 1:1 means to create something out of nothing. Human beings can assemble, build, compose, concoct and construct, but we can’t create—at least not like God creates—something out of nothing. We need raw materials. We need ingredients. I finally planted my garden a few days ago, and come August I expect to be knee-deep in cucumbers. But without seeds and soil and sunshine and showers, there will be no cucumbers. I can’t create a cucumber. I can only facilitate God’s creative work. He alone gives the growth.

Your God creates something out of nothing. In the beginning there was nothing. Before God spoke His, “Let there be,” there was only darkness and emptiness and chaos. And from the midst of that deep darkness God said, “Let there be light.” And there was light. God made something out of nothing. God created light out of total darkness. And then, three days later, God created the sun. Yes, before there was sunshine, there was light. (Ponder that!) And God kept this up for six whole days, creating something out of nothing: atmosphere, dry ground, vegetation, all creatures great and small, man and woman. And each day God saw that it was good. In fact, it was very good. And God did it all without tools, without ingredients, without raw materials of any kind. Instead, to create something out of nothing, God simply spoke His Word. He said, “Let there be,” and there was.

Do you believe that? Every Christian eventually has to come to terms with Genesis chapter one. You can either take God at His Word, OR you can hold to the words of men and women who claim that living things evolved over millions of years, quite by accident. And then there are those who try to have their cake and eat it too, saying that, yes, God created, but He used the process of evolution to accomplish it. But you have to do some very creative interpreting of Genesis chapter 1 to arrive at that conclusion. Creation either happened the way God says it happened in Genesis one, or it didn’t happen that way. It’s up to you to decide. Or, more accurately, it’s up to you to believe.

There’s not time to examine every angle of the creation-evolution debate this morning, but do pause to ponder this: Would your God—the Holy Trinity—design a plan for the evolution of life that was completely dependent upon death? Because death is an absolutely critical part of the evolutionary process. Evolution is all about the survival of the fittest, and the death of the weakest. If it’s true that God Himself initiated the process of evolution, then God Himself is the author of death, for reproduction and death must occur in order for newer and higher life forms to evolve. If God initiated evolution then your death isn’t a bad thing at all. Your death will simply make way for human beings who are better, faster, smarter, and more highly evolved than you.

Does that sound like the God you know and believe in? Does that sound like the God of the Scriptures—the Holy Trinity—who calls death “the last enemy to be destroyed” (1 Cor. 15:26)? Not at all! In fact, your God is at work mightily to save you from death. Your God sent His Son into the world as a human being, to redeem all of sinful humanity. Jesus was the only human being for whom death was part of the plan from the beginning. And by His death, St. Paul writes, “He has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel” (2 Tim. 1:10).

Jesus predicted His own death and resurrection at least three times. He said that His death and resurrection “must” happen. These were “necessary” things. Why? Why did He have to die and rise again? Why did He bear our sins and shed His blood? Why did He, the Son of God, take on our human flesh and reveal a picture of God that was more awesomely complex than anything we could ever imagine? He did it so that He could create something out of nothing . . . in you!

For you see, when Adam and Eve fell into sin and death entered the world, it meant that there was still one place where darkness reigned. It meant that there was still one place of emptiness and nothingness. That dark and lifeless place is the human heart—infected with sin. But into this dark and sin-filled space, God the Holy Trinity speaks: “Let there be light. Let there be faith. I have called you by name and you are mine.” What God did on day one of creation He did again inside your heart—removing the darkness of sin and giving the light of faith. You didn’t evolve into a child of God any more than you evolved from apes and gorillas; you were created a child of God out of nothing—through the power of God’s Word and the water of Holy Baptism. This is why we pray in Psalm 51, “Create in me a clean heart, O God.” Only He can do it. Only He can take away the sin and exchange it for the righteousness of His Son. In 2 Corinthians Paul makes the connection perfectly: “For God who said, ‘Let light shine out of darkness,’ has made His light to shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Christ” (2 Cor. 4:6).

The danger on Holy Trinity Sunday is that all the talk about the Trinity becomes an exercise in mere theology—in abstract concepts and complex terminology. This is why our God anchors His work in the simplest substance on the face of the earth: in water and words. Make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to observe all that Jesus has entrusted to us. In that water and in those words God is still creating—creating disciples, creating faith, creating something out of nothing. In you, the Holy Trinity has created something wonderful—faith that will endure to life everlasting.
Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and forever. Amen.