Monday, March 18, 2019

Citizens of Heaven

In Nomine Iesu
Philippians 3:17-4:1
March 17, 2019
Lent 2C

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

I have a confession to make. It’s time for me to come clean. Although you’ve known me as your pastor for many years, I’m actually a secret agent for the Sunflower state—the state of Kansas—my home state. I’ve been trying to convert you to all things Kansas. I’ve tried to highlight the Kansas City Royals and the Kansas City Chiefs. I’ve tried to talk up the things Kansas is best known for, like wind . . . and livestock. I’ve subtly tried to tout the wonders of wheat and the beauty of barbed wire. If in recent years you’ve felt your heart longing for the good life in Kansas, it’s no doubt because of me—your goodwill ambassador for the great state of Kansas.

I mention this to help provide some context for today’s reading from Philippians. When St. Paul wrote his epistle to the church at Philippi, that city, along with most of the Mediterranean world had been conquered and colonized by the Roman Empire. And whenever the Romans conquered a new territory, it was their practice to send in some of their best, most patriotic citizens in order to colonize the new territory—to demonstrate for the native people of that place what it meant to be good and loyal citizens of Rome. (For much the same reason that the state of Kansas has deployed me here in Wisconsin.)

The city of Philippi was a case study in success for the Roman policy of colonization. When Philippi first came under Roman domination, Rome sent some of their best citizens to live there—including lots of retired soldiers and their families—proud, patriotic, flag-waving, Fox News-watching members of the Roman VFW, you might say. Rome gave them a pension and a new home and said, “Go and live there and make this place Roman in every way.” Their task was to transform the culture from the bottom up.

Apparently, even some of the Christians at Philippi had gotten caught up in all the civic pride and patriotic fervor. And perhaps St. Paul saw the need to rein them in and remind them of this important truth: Our citizenship is in heaven, and from there we await a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our lowly body to be like His glorious body, by the power that enables Him to subject all things to Himself. Yes, they were citizens of—and ambassadors for—Rome. But more importantly, they were citizens of heaven and ambassadors for the Kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And in that respect, we modern American Christians are just like the Christians in First Century Philippi. Our citizenship is in heaven. We, too, have been shipped out to the ends of the earth to help spread the reign of our gracious God—to colonize the world for Christ—to show by word and deed that Jesus Christ is the way, the truth, and the life. Your real home—your true home—is neither Wisconsin nor Kansas. Your citizenship is in heaven. You’re but a stranger here. Heaven is your home. And here on earth we are secret agents for the Savior—goodwill ambassadors for the faith once delivered to the saints. Here on earth we are a colony of heavenly citizens.

Jesus Himself expressed the same idea when He said, “You are the light of the world. . . . Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven” (Matt. 5:14, 16). Jesus is saying that you’ve been placed here for a purpose. He’s using you colonize this dark world with His light and life. In the wonderful work of your vocations—to family and friends, co-workers and classmates, neighbors and citizens—you are humbly bearing witness to the truth that this world isn’t all there is—that Jesus is the resurrection and the life, whose kingdom will have no end. You are a citizen of that kingdom. You are presently serving on earth as an ambassador for the God of heaven.

But your deployment here is not without difficulty. Many people live as enemies of the cross of Christ. And these enemies haven’t changed much from the First Century to the Twenty-First Century. Paul describes them this way: Their end is destruction, their god is their belly, and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. For St. Paul, and for us, these “enemies of the cross” were a crying shame. These are people for whom Christ died—but who have nevertheless rejected Jesus in favor of their own idols.

This means that we who are citizens of heaven should take our heavenly citizenship seriously. We are citizens of heaven to be sure; but we are not always model citizens. Would the people you interact with each day have any idea that your citizenship is in heaven? By the words you use—by the choices you make—by the witness you give—by how you manage money—by your works of mercy and compassion—is there anything distinctively different about you? Anything that would give away the fact that you are a blood-bought, died-for child of God? Do you honor God with your body, believing that your lowly body will one day be transformed to be like the glorious, resurrected body of Jesus? Or does your belly with its appetites take the lead in your life—driving you into the destruction of idolatry and self-love?

I have another confession to make this morning: I haven’t been a very good secret agent for the Sunflower state. Instead of converting you to all things Kansas, something unexpected happened. It started with your Friday Fish Fries and your tasty cheese curds. It continued every time I sampled one of your locally-brewed beverages. I found myself rooting for the Brewers, Badgers, Bucks, and Packers! Instead of “Home on the Range,” I found myself humming “On Wisconsin!” Instead of making Kansans out of you, you made a Wisconsinite out of me. Now, this is my own personal problem. I’ll have to sort out my statehood status in private.

But let my failure serve as a warning to you—to every citizen of heaven currently stationed here on earth. The Lord has sent us out as His ambassadors to change the culture of sin and death around us. But what do we see happening? Instead of Christians changing the world—instead of the church changing the culture—the Christ-less culture is changing the church. The shameful ways of the world are worming their way into the church. Practices and positions strictly condemned and forbidden by the Word of God are now being tolerated and touted by many so-called churches and so-called pastors. But to turn against God and His Word—to celebrate what God forbids—will only lead to shame and destruction.

The Christian church is always counter-cultural—especially when she gathers around God’s Word and sacraments. Here the words are God’s Words. Here the music isn’t designed to entertain, but to confess the truth of our great God and to praise His holy name. The Divine Service is not earthly, but heavenly. This is truly heaven on earth. And you—you are a colony of heavenly citizens, stationed here temporarily until the day of your homecoming.

Your heavenly citizenship has everything to do with Jesus—who for us men and for our salvation came down from heaven. Jesus was the best citizen heaven ever had. Heaven was His home and He was but a stranger here. He left behind the kingdom and the power and the glory of heaven to take up residence here, as a human colonist on earth among sinners like us. He exchanged His heavenly throne for a manger in a stable—threw away His crown for a cross. Jesus became a citizen of this world for you. And the rulers of this world—rulers like Herod, Caiaphas, and Pilate—saw to it that Jesus would suffer and be crucified.

Jesus—the man from heaven—was crucified for you. His death was the necessary price to secure your heavenly citizenship. Only His blood would be sufficient to cleanse you from your sin and make you holy. Most of you became citizens of heaven on the day of your baptism. And this morning, heaven welcomed its newest citizen. Right here in water and the word, God Himself worked in little Jackson forgiveness of sins, rescue from death and the devil, and eternal salvation in His heavenly kingdom.

Beloved in the Lord, this good news about Jesus is called the gospel—and that’s what we’re all about here in this little outpost of heaven called Our Savior Evangelical Lutheran Church. Here we speak the language of heaven—the Word of God—to which we respond with prayers, praise and thanksgiving. Here we eat the food of heaven—the bread that is Jesus’ body and the wine that is Jesus’ blood—for the forgiveness of sins. And this is why the Divine Service is so important. It transforms you. It reminds you that through faith in Jesus Christ you are a citizen of heaven.

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

Sunday, March 10, 2019

When Temptations Come Alluring

In Nomine Iesu
St. Luke 4:1-13
March 10, 2019
Lent 1C

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

We’ve come a long way since last Sunday. Last Sunday—Transfiguration Sunday—we were up on the mountain with Jesus, seeing the Savior in glorious majesty. But on Wednesday we descended into the depths of repentance. Today we’re in the wilderness of temptation. Inspiration last Sunday; temptation this Sunday. Today we’re on the battlefield where the Christian life plays out in the trenches of
temptation and sin.

Still dripping wet from His baptism and filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert. For forty days He was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing during those days, and at the end of them He was hungry. In that moment of delirious hunger, the devil comes calling. Whatever else you might say about the devil, it’s clear that he has a very shrewd sense of timing. He knows precisely when Jesus will be at His most vulnerable; and he knows the same about you. The devil can’t read your mind, but he does observe everything about you and uses that information to his advantage. Timing is everything in the game of temptation.

In the book of Hebrews it says that Jesus was tempted in every way, just like us. Today we only hear about three of those temptations. The first is the temptation of appetite: If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread. Jesus was delirious with hunger. None of us have ever known the agony of a forty-day fast. What harm would there be in following Satan’s suggestion? We’ve all got appetites—God-given appetites—appetites for food, for fun, for knowledge, for pleasure. These appetites inspire us and motivate us. They give us a reason to get out of bed in the morning.

But the same appetites that motivate us can also control us. The devil has perfected a terrible technique which turns normal appetites into controlling addictions—idols that demand everything from us while giving back less and less: the thrill of placing a bet, the glimpse of pornography, the high of a drug, the buzz of alcohol, the flirtatious emotional affair with the potential for more. All it takes is a little re-wiring for these appetites to consume our lives completely in sin and shame.

One of my weekly challenges is finding appropriate artwork to put on the cover of our Sunday bulletin. This first Sunday in Lent is always challenging. A lot of the artwork on the temptation of Jesus includes a depiction of the devil. In my opinion, no matter how you try to draw and depict the devil, he always comes out looking far less threatening than he really is. That’s because we don’t know the devil by appearance; we only know him by his work—by his fingerprints—by the temptations he sends our way. How would you draw the devil? Horns and a pitchfork just don’t cut it.

Jesus knows and recognizes this enemy. And Jesus is not derailed by the temptation of appetite. Jesus came to serve, not to be served—and not to serve Himself. It is written, “Man shall not live by bread alone.” Jesus is quoting the Old Testament here. Notice how Jesus doesn’t draw upon His own power to fight against temptation; HE draws upon the power of the Word. It’s the same Word that you and I have at our disposal. One little Word can fell him. You don’t need super powers to resist the devil. You just need the Word. That we don’t use the Word—that we don’t honor and respect the Word—that we barely even know the Word—all this just goes to show that we’re no different than our first parents. We prefer hearing the devil’s lies over the Word of God.

The devil next took Jesus to a high place and showed Him all the kingdoms of the world. The splendor, the glamour, the glory of this world and its kingdoms. This is the temptation of power. “If you worship me,” the devil says, “it will all be yours.” It’s an intriguing temptation—Jesus running the kingdoms of this world. What would that look like? One world government, one world religion. It would certainly mean the end of poverty, disease, oppression, crime and terrorism. Utopia, really—heaven on earth. And all of this without so much as a drop of divine blood being shed.

We know this temptation too. We know what it feels like to bow down to whomever or whatever it takes to increase our power and control. We’ve compromised our principles to get ahead. We’ve re-defined our morals. We’ve clarified our values—all so that we can get richer faster. We’ll do whatever it takes to be more popular and powerful. Rather than doing things the hard way—rather than living under the cross of Christ—we prefer the shortcuts Satan sets before us.

But Jesus refuses the deal for your sake. Again, drawing upon the Word: Worship the Lord your God and him only shall you serve. There is only one way that the Son of God will get to the top. There is only one way that Jesus will take His seat on the throne as King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and that is to be lifted up and enthroned as a corpse on a cross. Only by dying and rising will all authority in heaven and earth be given to Him. Only by His death and resurrection will it come to pass that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

The final temptation is to test the Word of God. For this temptation the devil cracks open his Bible. Maybe you weren’t aware that the devil is a great student of the Bible. He knows the contents well (much better than you) and uses them to suit his purposes (like here with Jesus). You are the Son of God, aren’t you? Well, you know that the inspired, inerrant, infallible Word of God says in Psalm 91 that God’s angels are watching you like a hawk. If you slip, they’ll catch you. You won’t even stub your pinky toe. Whatsay we put the Word of God to the test? Why don’t you take a flying leap from the top of the temple, and let’s see what happens?

We’ve been tempted to do that—to put God’s Word to the test—to challenge it—to splice it and dice it so that we can make it say what we want it to say—so that we can justify ourselves and our sin. I know that gossip is wrong, but as long as I’m speaking truthfully and lovingly it’s okay. . . . I know that sex outside of marriage is wrong, but God made me a sexual being and all my friends are doing it. . . . I know that I’m supposed to honor my mother and father, but no one has parents as dysfunctional as mine. They don’t deserve to be honored and so I won’t do it.

But hear how Jesus responds to the Bible-quoting devil: You shall not put the Lord your God to the test. To test God at His Word—to call into question or contradict the very words of God—is always a refusal to trust Him—a refusal to believe Him—an act of faithlessness. Jesus will have none of it. God gives us His Word because He loves us—for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness so that we may be thoroughly equipped for every good work. So let’s take God at His Word instead of testing Him.

Beloved in the Lord, temptation is a depressing topic. It’s not enjoyable. Because we’ve all been on the receiving end. We’ve battled against the devil and the world and our own sinful nature, and we haven’t always emerged victorious. In fact, we’ve frequently folded like a cheap suit; and sometimes we’ve surrendered without even offering up token resistance.

But no matter how often temptation has gotten the best of you, there’s good news running through today’s Holy Gospel from beginning to end. If all you see here is a string of personal achievements for Jesus, you’re missing the good news. Jesus’ victory is your victory. He’s your stand-in substitute. His perfect record when it comes to temptation becomes the perfect record for all who trust in Him. Through faith in Jesus, you don’t have a checkered past, stained and littered with lost battles against temptation. You have a string of victories won for you by Jesus Christ. You are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. His honor, His merit, His bravery, His valor—it has all been awarded to you. His record is your record. His death and resurrection define you as one redeemed and forgiven. Your baptism empowers you for your own daily battles against temptation and sin. And when you are tempted, He always provides a way out so that you can stand up and resist the devil’s schemes. The Lord Jesus is in your corner. His grace has you covered. And in Him eternal victory is yours.

Though devils all the world should fill,
All eager to devour us,
We tremble not, we fear no ill.
They shall not overpower us.


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

Monday, March 4, 2019

Exit Only

In Nomine Iesu
St. Luke 9:28-36
March 3, 2019
Transfiguration C

Dear Saints of Our Savior~

Timing, they say, is everything. If there’s an important discussion that needs to happen, don’t have it at bedtime. You’re too tired then. Likewise, important conversations are doomed from the start if you try to talk as everyone is preparing to rush out the door to work and school. You’re too distracted then. If you want your words to have the desired impact, timing is everything.

Eight days before His transfiguration on the mountain, Jesus had dropped the biggest bombshell of His ministry so far. The first words of today’s gospel reading point us back in time to those jaw-dropping revelations Jesus had uncorked eight days earlier: The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected . . . and be killed, and on the third day be raised. Jesus had also said: If anyone would come after me let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.

What do you suppose the disciples thought about all this? What do you think was bouncing around in their brains for the next week while Jesus’ words about rejection, death, self-denial, cross-bearing, and losing one’s life began to sink in? We don’t know for sure.
Luke skips over that entire week, moving directly from Jesus’ prediction of His Passion right up to the Mountain of Transfiguration. But I wonder. I wonder if, during that week, at least some of those disciples weren’t looking for a way out—a graceful exit from following Jesus. I wonder if they weren’t re-thinking their enlistment—looking for a polite way to go AWOL before things got ugly.

But, remember, our Lord knows a thing or two about timing. Timing is everything. And before a single disciple managed to head for the exit, Jesus took Peter, James and John up to a mountain to pray. And as Jesus was praying, something happened to Him. His face was changed in appearance. He was shining like the sun. His clothing became dazzling white, too bright to look at—like the bright afternoon sunshine on a white, snowy landscape—brighter and purer than all the angels in the sky.

And then something just as amazing—Moses and Elijah appeared with Jesus in glory—Moses and Elijah who were long dead but now very much alive. Moses the Law-giver and Elijah the prophet par excellence. There they were, standing alongside the shining Jesus, speaking of Jesus’ departure in Jerusalem. Now, “departure” makes it sound like Jesus was hanging out at the airport. But the Greek word is actually one that you already know: Exodus. They spoke of His Exodus which He was about to accomplish at Jerusalem.

Jesus’ “exodus” would be the very death and resurrection He had predicted one week earlier. Good Friday and Easter would be our Lord’s personal “Passover” from death to life. This Firstborn Son would not be spared. Through dying and rising Jesus would part the sea and bring all of us out of slavery to Sin and Death into freedom, forgiveness, and life eternal. This exodus is why Jesus came. All the Old Testament Law and all the Old Testament prophets pointed ahead to this—like billboards on the freeway.

Many of you have had the sometimes stressful experience of driving in an unfamiliar city. Traffic is buzzing around you as you make your way through multiple lanes in a maze of freeways. Suddenly you realize that the lane you’ve settled into is an “exit only” lane. Unless evasive action is taken quickly, you will be exiting whether you want to or not. You could say that our Lord’s entire earthly ministry was spent in the “exit only” lane—on a ramp that would lead Him without detour to the cruelty of the cross and the depth of the grave.

Moses and Elijah were what you might call “exit experts.” They each had their own spectacular exoduses. Moses had led the children of Israel out of slavery in Egypt right through the Red Sea waters. Centuries later the prophet Elijah was given an equally impressive exit when chariots and horses of fire carried him up to heaven in a Kansas-quality tornado. Elijah quite literally exited this world in a blaze of glory.

Perhaps this Transfiguration Sunday also finds you eyeing the exits. Just like the Twelve in the week before the Transfiguration, perhaps you too are quietly considering an exit from the difficulties of discipleship. Continuous cross-bearing and self-denial have a way wearing down even the most faithful Christians. It’s tempting to look for an exit to an “easier” life of putting your needs and your happiness ahead of everything else—including Jesus. Now, no one would stand up and admit that here this morning. But look at your attendance over the past year. Examine your stewardship over the past year. Count up the minutes during the week you spend in prayer and in God’s Word. And then ask yourself, “What are the trends? Am I following Jesus more closely, or is there increasing distance between me and my Savior?”

On the mountain the Father’s voice declared, “This is my Son . . . listen to him!” Are you listening to Jesus? The truth is that what God says to “do” we rarely get done. And what our God says, “thou shalt not do,” that we have no trouble doing—in thought, in word, in deed. It’s so much easier to go along and get along with the ways of this dying world—so easy, in fact, that plenty of folks who once populated a pew every Sunday are now eyeing the exits, abandoning the faith once delivered to the saints. Will you—or won’t you—be among them?

Before you answer, take a moment to stand with Peter, James and John. Behold the glory of Jesus. See what they saw. Remember, timing is everything. Jesus knew the dark days that were coming; and so He revealed His glory—God of God, Light of Light, very God of very God . . . being of one substance with the Father. Every cell of His human body glowed brightly with the glory of God. This is God’s beloved Son! This is our Savior! And His transfiguration is the beautiful proof that there is none other like Him. He’s not simply a leader, a teacher, or a prophet. He is the Son of God, the Son of Man, God in human flesh come to save sinners. He’s got His own “exodus” to accomplish—and He’s taking you and me with Him! What more can we say besides “Alleluia!”

Look once more at the exodus of Jesus. See Him hanging dead on the cross, bearing your sin and the sin of the whole world. See Him broken, bleeding, dying, and buried. That’s how He saved you—in the hidden glory of His sacrificial death and His resurrection from the dead. We listen to Him because He alone has the words of eternal life. We listen to Him because He brought you into His church through the cleansing splash of Holy Baptism. This is a sermon about “exits,” but it’s also true that no one “enters” the church—no one comes to faith in Jesus—no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except by the Holy Spirit. This church is HIS church and He’s made you a part of it! See how much He loves you!

The Lord Jesus has a grand and glorious “exit” in store for you. Moses and Elijah provide a sneak peek. Don’t forget that these two holy men had been dead and gone for centuries before turning up with Jesus on the Mountain. Apparently the reports of their deaths had been greatly exaggerated. See them on the mountain, alive and well in the presence of Jesus. That’s where you’re headed too. No matter how ugly your exit from this world may be—whether you die quietly in your sleep or have your head severed as a martyr—yet you will live forever in and with Jesus. You will see His shining face and His nail-scarred hands with your own two eyes.

But not yet. His glory is hidden now—in the water of your baptism, in the bread that is His body and the wine that is His blood, in the pages of your Bible and in the words of this sermon. The glory of Jesus is shining here and now, bringing you forgiveness of sins, life and salvation. Jesus has a heavenly exit in store for you and all who believe. Don’t deviate from that “exit only” lane. You will be alive and well forever, in the presence of Jesus—just like Moses. Just like Elijah. That’s why on this Sunday—and every Sunday—we can say together with Peter, “It’s good—it is good, Lord, that we are here.”

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