Something More Sure

 

Jesu Juva

2 Peter 1:16-21                                                            

February 19, 2023

Transfiguration-A                                   

Dear saints of our Savior~

          Do you have witnesses?  Did anybody else see what you saw?  Is there someone who can corroborate the details of what transpired?  Can they provide an accurate description?  If you’ve ever seen something extraordinary—something paranormal, supernatural or otherwise inexplicable—it really helps to have someone standing right next to you, seeing what you see and hearing what you hear, ready to verify and testify to every last detail.  What’s needed are witnesses. 

          So it was that when Jesus ascended to the top of a very high mountain, He didn’t go alone.  Nor did He only bring along one disciple.  But He took with Him Peter and James and John.  And that trio of disciples beheld with their own eyes and ears something paranormal, supernatural, and inexplicable.  They saw

Jesus in all His dazzling glory—or, at least as much glory as they could handle.  They saw the Savior shining like the sun—God of God, light of light, very God of very God—Godhead, humanity, union supernal—shining brighter than all the angels in the sky.  And(!) they saw Moses and Elijah, key Old Testament figures who had been dead for centuries, but who are apparently alive and well in the presence of Jesus.  And they heard the Father’s voice thundering from the cloud of glory:  This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him.

          There on the mountain, those disciples learned that there’s much more to Jesus than meets the eye.  They saw it.  They heard it.  And they wrote about it.  John wrote about it in the prologue to the Gospel that bears his name:  We have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth (1:14).  Peter also wrote about it in today’s epistle:  We were eyewitnesses of His majesty.  For when He received honor and glory from God the Father, and the voice was borne to Him by the Majestic Glory, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased,’ we ourselves heard this very voice from heaven, for we were with Him on the holy mountain.  John wrote about it.  Peter wrote about it.  James didn’t write about it, but only because he didn’t live long enough, thanks to the sword of Herod.

          What those men saw on the mountain was unlike anything else.  It was nothing at all like “visions” of Jesus, or “apparitions” of the Virgin Mary, that people sometimes see in the clouds or elsewhere.  The jury is permanently “out” on that kind of thing—who knows?  But to have three sane, sensible, rational men see exactly the same vision—to have two of the three write about it years later—it tells you that they actually saw what they claimed to have seen:  Jesus’ face shining like the sun, His clothes shining with dazzling light, and special guest appearances by Moses and Elijah.

          What happened that day on the mountain was literally the high point of Jesus earthly ministry.  Jesus was preparing the disciples for the road ahead.  For the next mountain would be Golgotha, and it would be anything but glorious.  Instead of light, there would be darkness.  Instead of life, there would be death.  Instead of glory, there would be defeat.  Instead of a voice from heaven, there would be stone-cold silence.  Immediately after the Transfiguration, after descending from the holy mountain, Jesus began to teach that He must suffer, die, and rise again.  The glory of the Transfiguration pointed ahead to the hidden glory of the cross—where Jesus would defeat sin by becoming sin—where He would conquer death by dying.

          Wouldn’t it be grand if we could have been there to see Jesus shining?  Don’t you kind of wish you could have seen the glory of God in the face of Jesus?  Don’t you think that if you could hear and see what happened on the mountain that day that your faith would be strengthened?  Wouldn’t it give you hope and encouragement when doubt threatens to derail you, and when life threatens to overwhelm you?  Peter seemed to think so.  Peter wanted to linger as long as possible:  Lord, it’s good to be here.  I can make three tents if you’d like, one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah.  But to this God the Father essentially said, “Be quite and listen—listen to my Son.”

          Yes, it would have been nice to be there on the mount of Transfiguration; but it’s better to be here.  Good to be there; better to be here. This is your “mountain.”  This is the holy place where Jesus reveals Himself to you—where your faith is strengthened, where your sins are forgiven, where you receive hope and encouragement.  This is where Jesus changes your heart.  It’s good to be here—here in the Divine Service—here where heaven and earth intersect.   Here the very Son of God draws near to you personally in the water of your baptism, in the bread that is His body and the wine that is His blood, in the absolution that follows your confession—where two or three are gathered in His name and around His Word.

          So, which would you choose?  Being here this morning, or seeing Jesus’ glory on the mountain with Peter, James, and John?  Honestly, if given the option, I think these pews would be empty.  Why? Because we see what goes on here as purely predictable, as monotonously mundane, as utterly ordinary, unworthy of our absolute attention.  We despise preaching and God’s Word as surely as we fail to hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it.  Here the glory is hidden—hidden like it was on Good Friday—hidden, but nonetheless certain and sure—in fact, MORE certain and MORE SURE than Jesus shining on the mountain.  And if you won’t take my word for it, then listen to Peter.

          Decades after Peter saw the Transfiguration, he wrote the words of today’s epistle.  And hidden away in that paragraph is a remarkable phrase—a phrase that makes it clear that you have something better—something even MORE SURE than a front row seat for the Transfiguration:  We were eyewitnesses of His majesty, Peter writes, We ourselves heard the voice from heaven, for we were with Him on the holy mountain.  AND we have something more sure, the prophetic word, to which you will do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place. Peter points us to the Word.  He tells us that the “prophetic word” is “something more sure” than what he saw on the mountain with James and John.

          Peter is saying that the “prophetic word” is “something (even) more sure” than the Transfiguration!  He’s telling us that what scribes have scribbled on scrolls—including the dry dusty words of our Bibles—these printed pages are something more sure—more beneficial—more powerful—than what transpired at the Transfiguration. 

          Beloved in the Lord, you—YOU—have something more sure than what Peter saw on the mountain of Transfiguration.  It may have been “good” for Peter to be there; but it is “better” by far to be here, where the Word of God is preached and proclaimed.  “This” is even “more sure” than “that.”  It is “more sure” to hear the word of forgiveness proclaimed by your pastor than to see Jesus shining on a mountaintop.  It is “more sure” to remember your baptism into Christ than to see Moses and Elijah conversing with Jesus.  It is “more sure” to eat and drink His body and blood in His Holy Supper than to see His face shining like the sun—more sure to seek Christ in the Scriptures than to fly to Israel and stand on the exact mountain where the Transfiguration took place.

          You have something more sure—something better.  You have the power and presence of Jesus the Christ here and now to bring you life that lasts forever.  It’s good to be here!  And, part of what we do here is listen, as we are invited to do by the Father:  This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to Him.  Listen to Him when life overwhelms you.  Listen to Him when sin has you entangled.  Listen to Him when your hope is almost gone.  Listen to Him.  He has the words of eternal life.  Only Jesus can save you.  Only Jesus bears your sin, your death, the punishment you deserve.  Only Jesus can mediate between God and man . . . because He is BOTH God and man.

          That’s what the transfiguration tells us:  Jesus is both Son of God and son of man.  But His crucifixion and resurrection tell us more.  Jesus’ dying and rising tell us who Jesus is for you—your Lord, your Redeemer, your Savior, God’s sacrificial Lamb who dies for the sin of the world.  You will see it all for yourself one day.  You will see Jesus shining soon enough.  For He has promised to appear again in glory and to raise you from the dead.  You will see Moses and Elijah and all the saints of God.

          This week the mountain of transfiguration gives way to Mount Calvary.  Alleluias give way to ashes.  But year in and year out, through every month and every season of life, it’s good to be here.  For here we have the Word.  And something more sure you will not find anywhere else. 

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

The Law Unleashed

 

Jesu Juva

 St. Matthew 5:21-37                                                   

February 12, 2023

Epiphany 6A                                       

 Dear saints of our Savior~

         Today we are three Sundays into the Sermon on the Mount.  And what started off with blessing and benediction has taken a turn into troubling territory.  The Sermon on the Mount began with such good news for sinners:  Blessed are the poor in spirit.  But today we learn just how “poor” we are.  Today Jesus unleashes the Law of God in its full fury; and no one is left standing. 

         The Law of God can make for interesting discussion.  To talk about the Law isn’t so bad.  We like to engage in all kinds of discussion and debate about what’s right and what’s wrong—about how the fine print might apply in various circumstances and situations.  A Bible study on the Ten Commandments is usually much more titillating than a study on Baptism.  Why?  Because the Commandments highlight who’s naughty and who’s nice (and all the different ways to be naughty and nice).  And besides that, studying the Law of God at arm’s length is safe.  It’s like encountering a labradoodle on a leash—yeah, sure, she’s got teeth and claws, but she’s not dangerous and she certainly won’t bite you (especially if you’re willing to give her some belly rubs).

         This morning Jesus unleashes not a doodle, but a Doberman—a fearsome, fanged beast who just might chew off your right hand or pluck out your right

eye, or whatever other body parts might be causing you to sin.  The Law of God that Jesus lets loose this morning pursues you relentlessly.  It always accuses.  It always amplifies and magnifies your sin.  It always shatters your excuses and exposes your evil.  It uncovers your corruption.  It trumpets your transgressions.  It never quits picking away at your iniquity.  Jesus unleashes the Law this morning in order to drive you to despair of your own goodness and righteousness.  And, ultimately, He unleashes His law because He loves you.

         You have heard that it was said.  That’s how Jesus introduces each new topic in this section of His sermon.  You have heard that it was said to those of old . . . but I say to you.  Here Jesus interprets and proclaims the Law on the basis of His own authority.  He doesn’t need footnotes with sources cited.  He doesn’t need a bibliography.  It’s His law and this is how He applies it.  He amplifies the Law—turns the volume way up.  He takes the focus off of actions and, instead, puts our inner attitudes under the microscope. 

         Take the fifth commandment, for example:  You shall not murder.  Do you think you’ve kept this commandment because you haven’t plunged a knife into someone, or sent a bullet sailing in someone’s direction, or laced someone’s supper with cyanide?  Think again.  You can murder someone in your heart—with your words.  Unchecked anger and indulging in bitter insults can just as easily lead you down the road to eternal punishment as can strangling someone with your own bare hands.  And it’s an especially serious matter when a disciple of Jesus treats a fellow disciple (a “brother”) in these murderous ways.  Repent!

         To pretend that you can be in a good relationship with God while, at the same time, refusing to be reconciled with a brother or sister in Christ, is just that—pretending.  You cannot love God AND hate your brother.  You can’t engage in anger or hatred against someone and think it’s no big deal.  If anger is your idol—if hatred has hemmed you in—then repent of your idolatry and, yes, your murder.  Jesus says, first drop everything, leave your gift in front of the altar, go and be reconciled to your brother; then come and offer your gift to the Lord. 

         Jesus knows all about the hurt and harm that gets exchanged between brothers.  For Jesus came to be your brother.  Even as He preached so eloquently against hatred and bitter insults, so did He Himself endure hatred and hear bitter insults hurled at Him.  He heard the angry shouts of those who called for His crucifixion.  He willingly submitted to the hurt and harm that pierced and lacerated His flesh on Good Friday.  Such violence was the payment for your sin.  It was the cost that had to be paid to reconcile you with the Father.  He did it so that sinners like us could be received and welcomed into the family of God, where all are brothers and sisters—forgiven and forgiving.

         Jesus quickly moves on to the sixth commandment:  You shall not commit adultery.  At first blush that doesn’t sound too difficult.  I love my spouse.  I haven’t been unfaithful.  And then comes Jesus’ “but I say to you.”  Everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart.  One stray look will nail you—whether you’re online, or on the beach with bikinis as far as the eye can see.  Do you think you’ve kept God’s law because you haven’t taken into your arms someone other than your spouse?  Think again.  You can commit adultery with your eyes, your brain, your heart.  Lust and fantasizing—imagining and envisioning and considering and desiring directed at anyone other than your God-given marriage partner—these all can lead down the road to eternal punishment.

         Lust in the heart is not identical to the physical act of adultery, in every respect.  True enough.  But lustful leering at someone other than a spouse always dishonors marriage—always dishonors your spouse—always dishonors God’s gifts of marriage and sex.  Divorce, too, always dishonors marriage.  Divorce always separates what God has joined together.  Even when one spouse has been unfaithful—even when divorce is “allowed” and “permitted”—even then divorce is not God’s desire or God’s intention.

         Sins against the sixth commandment have much to do with our bodies—with our eyes, our brains, our hands, our hearts.  The dangers of these bodily sins are so great that Jesus uses hyperbole to suggest that a better option might be to cut off our hands or gouge out our eyes. 

         But such an extreme approach forgets something very important:  your body is not your own.  Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit—paid for and redeemed with the blood of Jesus, claimed and inhabited by the Holy Spirit in the splash of Holy Baptism, destined for resurrection.  As one who follows Jesus in faith, your body is designed to glorify God—to lead a sexually pure and decent life in what you say and do.  Living by that Spirit, you can confess your sixth-commandment sins and receive full forgiveness.  Jesus bore our every sin in His body, when He suffered on the cross.  He refused to divorce His bride, the church, despite our unfaithfulness.  He died to rescue us from all the ways we have taken His gift of marriage and reengineered it for our own selfish purposes.

         The final topic Jesus takes up today involves swearing and oath-taking.  In Jesus’ day the Jews had constructed an elaborate system for taking oaths and making vows.  We don’t do so much oath-taking nowadays; but we’re still very good at evading the truth and shading the truth and spinning the truth to our advantage.  We’re very good at casting ourselves as the heroes of our narratives.  We’re not afraid to re-write and edit the historical record to vindicate ourselves.  We’re much more likely to tell half the truth, than to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  But Jesus cuts through our hazy cloud of half-truths.  He says, “let your ‘yes’ be ‘yes,’ and let your ‘no’ be ‘no.’” Say what you mean.  Mean what you say.  Keep your promises.  Let honesty be your policy.

         In this area you can learn much from the God who loves you.  He means what He says and says what He means—law and gospel, threats and promises.  He tells you the truth in love.  His Word is truth.  God’s “yes” and God’s “no” are clear and definite.  But before this sermon concludes, you need to hear the “yes” of Jesus, spoken to you.  For Jesus is God’s ultimate “yes.”  In Jesus and His cross God has said yes—yes to your forgiveness, yes to your resurrection.  In Jesus, God has said “yes” to your adoption into His family. 

         The cross of Jesus tells the ultimate truth about us.  The cross shows how serious our sin is—how the Law of God levels us all, and leaves no one standing.  But even more, the cross shows the magnitude of God’s love for sinners like us.  While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  Because of Jesus—because of His suffering, death and resurrection—God says “yes” to you.  In your baptism, in the Supper of His body and blood, in holy absolution, God’s yes means yes.  In His Law He levels us all.  Were He to keep a record of sin no one could stand.  But in Jesus God raises up those who fall.  He lifts those who’ve been leveled.  He gives eternal life to all who believe. 

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

Salt and Light

 

Jesu Juva

St. Matthew 5:13-16                                                     

February 5, 2023

Epiphany 5A                                                     

Dear saints of our Savior~

         One of the big challenges for any preacher is to proclaim a message that’s meaningful for every hearer.  Can both the widowed great-grandmother and the pre-schooler draw meaning and encouragement from the same sermon?   Can both the teenagers and the baby boomers say about the preacher, “He was talking directly to me this morning?”  Now, I feel fairly confident in my ability to preach to married men in their mid-fifties with graying hair who use reading glasses.  But what about the other ninety-eight percent of you?  Will what I say make any sense to you?

         Today the answer is “yes,” thanks to Jesus.  His Words for today are among the most enlightening and empowering words He ever spoke.  No one gets left out or left behind today.  These words of Jesus apply to you—whoever you are, wherever you live, whatever your age or sex.  If you live and breathe as one of God’s blessed and baptized children, then hear this:  You are the salt of the earth. . . . You are the light of the world. . . . Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.

         These declarations from Jesus are aimed at you—at every believer.  These words about salt and light come from the Sermon on the Mount.  They come right after the introduction to that sermon, which we know as the beatitudes.  The beatitudes declare that although you may be poor and persecuted—yet in Jesus Christ, you are blessed.  “Blessed are you,” Jesus declares.  “Rejoice and be glad, for great is your reward in heaven.”  You have been baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  You draw your life from His life.  And therefore you are the salt of the earth.  You are the light of the world.

         And please, please, notice the present tense:  You are salt.  You are light.  This isn’t a demand or a command to be something you’re not.  It’s not an order to try harder.  It’s not a decree to work your way up from bench-warmer to junior varsity to varsity.  With these words Jesus has made you a top tier starting player for the kingdom of heaven.  And by “you” I mean “you plural,” all of you—from newborns to ninety-somethings! 

         This gets demonstrated at the conclusion of every baptism.  You’ve seen it

many times.  Right after the baby is baptized we light a candle and give it to the kid:  Receive this burning light to show that you have received Christ. . . Live always in the light of Christ.  In other words, having been baptized, that little one is already burning brightly with the light of Christ.  He or she, together with us, is a starting player.  He or she, together with us, IS the light of the world.

         Salt and light are metaphors—incredibly meaningful metaphors that tell us who we are in Christ.  Jesus’ followers knew that salt was valuable and useful.  They knew that salt was regularly used for seasoning, for flavoring, for preserving.  And, if Jerusalem ever had a winter like this one, they would know that salt is used for melting.  In Milwaukee more salt gets used on streets and sidewalks than on steaks and margaritas.  You’ve got salt on the soles of your shoes as I speak.

         The point is you are salt.  You are the light.  Because you follow Jesus in faith, you spice up this flavorless, bland world.  You bring light to this dim and dark world.  You make a critical difference in how this world turns.  But you do this critical work in the most ordinary ways.  When Jesus says, “Let your light shine,” He’s not telling you to go around with a big smile on your face all the time—or even to be happy and nice and polite.  This world doesn’t need sweetening as much as it needs salt and light.  And you are never saltier—you never shine brighter—than when you give yourself completely and fully to the work of your vocations.  And just so I don’t confuse my pre-school listeners with big words, let’s make it simple.  Your “vocations” are the jobs Jesus gives you.  Your vocations are the jobs Jesus gives you to do.

         Everyone has vocations—jobs from Jesus.  If you are a pre-schooler then your vocations are to honor your parents and teachers, to be a good friend and helper.  What are your jobs from Jesus?  Do you have a spouse to love and honor?  An employer who needs your wisdom and skill?  Is there a neighbor you need to look after?  Do you have children or grandchildren who need your love, your understanding, your sacrifice, your encouragement?  All of you have brothers and sisters in Christ right here in this fellowship who need your prayers and hard work, your time, treasure and talent.  In these jobs from Jesus you are made to be salt and light.  You make an eternal difference daily by doing the jobs that you are called to do.

Of course, we get it wrong.  Our perspective is completely skewed.  We think that the ordinary work of our vocations is meaningless drudgery.  We think that if we’re not making headlines and getting applause and doing extraordinary things, then we’re somehow failing.  But I’m here to tell you that you are salt and you are light when you put everything you have into doing the very ordinary work that God has assigned you.  What will hold true for next Sunday’s Super Bowl also holds true for you and me:  in our vocations, it’s not about making the top ten highlight reel.  No, it’s the fundamentals—the ordinary and the routine—that make all the difference.

         Our work as salt and light couldn’t be simpler.  Yet how often we flub the fundamentals.  How often we blow the basics.  Our most epic fails occur when we forget. And we forget far too often.  We forget who we are—that we are salt and light used by the Lord to make a difference in this world for eternity.  We forget that we are baptized—we develop baptismal amnesia. 

         Instead of letting our light shine—we become “chameleon Christians.”  We settle for just blending in with the dismal, dying world around us.  We go along with the crowd and just do what everybody else is doing.  We sin; and in so doing we assume a false identity.  We become something we are not designed to be.  When you cheat to get better scores and grades—that’s not who you are.  When you seek sexual satisfaction outside the bounds of wedded love and faithfulness—that’s not who you are.  When you delight in drunkenness and willingly surrender all self-control—that’s not who you are.  When you despise your parents—when you seek your own pleasure and comfort above all else—that’s not you!  For Jesus Christ declares that in Him you are the salt of the earth—the light of the world.  You are baptized!

         And all that you are is a gift from Jesus—God of God, light of light.  Jesus knows all about vocation.  Jesus was and is God, but Jesus also had a job to do—a job no one else could do.  Jesus had to change the trajectory of the world—had to change your hell-bent trajectory.  If He fumbled or failed, all would be lost, including you.  For us and for our salvation he came down from heaven.  For us and for our salvation He became man—was crucified, died, and was buried.  For us and for our salvation He lived a perfect life of obedience.  His righteousness exceeded even that of the scribes and Pharisees.  He was the righteousness of God.  He kept the Law perfectly—every last iota.

         And wonder of wonders, He gives away that perfect righteousness to you.  He gives you the credit for something He did.  That’s how you have come to be salt and light.  It’s not by what you do; it’s by what He did—and still does—for you.  As you eat and drink His body and blood, He puts His life into your life.  You are baptized to live each day beneath the umbrella of God’s grace, through faith in Jesus.  And under that grace you cannot fail. 

         Under that grace you can be the person you have been baptized to be—a person so valuable to God’s team that He gave up His one and only Son to be crucified in your place, to save you from your sins.  Be who you are in Christ.  Live as the person you have been baptized to be.  Let your light shine so that others can see the Savior and give glory to your Father in heaven. 

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