Jesu Juva
1 Peter 2:2-10
May 7, 2023
Easter
5A
Dear saints of our Savior,
Do you intend to continue steadfast in this confession and Church and to suffer all, even death, rather than fall away from it? That question from the rite of confirmation sounds somewhat out of place on a bright spring morning, as five young people in white robes take a big step in following Jesus. Who’s thinking about suffering all, even death, on a joyful day like today?
What a great coincidence that St. Stephen is front and center today. Stephen was a man full of faith and the Holy Spirit. Stephen was a man who went to work for the church as a problem solver—to work behind the scenes so that the apostles could preach the gospel. But Stephen’s lively faith placed him squarely in a storm of angry stones. Stephen was the very first of countless Christians “to suffer all, even death, rather than fall away from” his faith in Jesus Christ.
And St. Peter, too, by the time he sat down to write the words of today’s epistle, was probably just months away from his own martyrdom. The Romans planned to crucify Peter just as they had done with Jesus. But Peter—ever outspoken—demanded to be crucified upside down because he felt unworthy to die in the same manner as His Savior. Peter, too, suffered all, even death, rather than fall away from his confession of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God.
Peter likely knew what was in store for him. It’s probably what led him to write the epistle we heard this morning. He specifically aimed his words at his fellow followers who were facing persecution of the cruelest kind. What’s more, he was writing to baby Christians. Newly baptized. Newly confirmed. There were no veterans of the faith; it was all new and fresh. Peter wrote to rookies—newborn novices—men, women, and children who were just beginners and newbies in the faith. Peter writes to remind them who they are—to tell them how to hold onto the faith despite suffering and persecution.
Peter’s words are a great text for Confirmation Sunday, as we pause to
It’s a simile comparing us Christians to newborn babies. Just like newborns crave and desire the milk of their mothers, so also should we crave and desire the pure spiritual milk of the Gospel. Just as babies demand to drink up their mothers’ milk, so should our ears eagerly drink up the good news of the Gospel—that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners—that He alone is the way, the truth, and the life, preparing a place for each of us in His Father’s heavenly house. This is our pure spiritual milk. Without it, our faith will falter, fail and die. Our ears need daily to drink up the good news that Jesus Christ was crucified for our offenses and raised again for our justification. In Him alone death is defeated and eternal life is won—all by grace as a free gift, through faith. When it comes to hearing this good news, be a baby: Demand it. Scream for it. Settle for no substitutes, but only for pure spiritual milk.
But watch out. It sounds so easy, but Satan has a scheme where this simile is concerned. He wants to take this comparison farther than it’s intended to go. For what eventually happens to every nursing infant in the natural course of events? That baby has to leave the breast behind. Mothers may disagree about the best age at which to wean; but they all agree that, sooner or later, little Johnny’s going to have to get his milk elsewhere. It’s all a part of growing up. Faster than you can imagine, that child matures from a screaming newborn to a teenager. And by the time they become teens even a fully stocked refrigerator isn’t enough to satisfy their voracious appetites. It’s simple biology really; as your body changes so does your diet.
In life, your diet changes. Mother’s milk is for babies, not for mature, intelligent grown-ups like us. Beloved in the Lord, this is where the simile stops . . . and where Satan’s schemes begin. For he wants to wean you from the pure spiritual milk of the gospel. He wants you to think that you’re too mature—too sophisticated—too enlightened—too much of a grown-up to keep drinking up the simple spiritual milk of the gospel. It is true that the Christian does grow in the grace and knowledge of Christ (2 Pet. 3:18). It is true that the Lord doesn’t want us to remain like children in every respect, tossed here and there by the waves, carried about by every new doctrine that breezes by (Eph. 4:14). But Christians are never to be weaned from the pure spiritual milk of the gospel. This good news is what sustains us our whole life long with the forgiveness of our sins and the promise that we will live with Christ forever.
But your enemy will do whatever it takes to wean you from that pure gospel goodness. It can happen on a joyful day like today when you are confirmed in the faith. Confirmation is a day to remember the promises God made in Baptism and to confess the faith before God and His church. But as these two years of intensive instruction wind down, beware of the enemy who says, “Congratulations, confirmand! You’re done—graduated. You know it all. And now you’re ready to move on to things more important than receiving the simple spiritual milk of the gospel in regular worship.”
Or it can also happen when you go off to college, and you decide to enroll in that required religion course. And the professor paints the faith in which you were confirmed as something for rubes and simpletons. OR you hear that the church should be most concerned with promoting a social justice which has nothing to do with Jesus. OR Christianity is portrayed as just one tiny triangle in the big pie chart of world religions—all of which are equally valid.
Or Satan can attempt to wean you from the Gospel as you live your life right here in the suburbs. One day it hits you that many of your Christian beliefs are quite different from what your friends and neighbors think. You open your mouth to say that marriage is a gift from God designed for one man and one woman—that God creates us male and female—that God created the heavens and the earth in six days. You say those things and you might as well tell people that you were breast fed into your twenties because that’s how you’ll be viewed—as a freak. (And if we give it a few more years you might even get stoned to death like Saint Stephen for saying—or even thinking—such things.) But however it happens, the end result is this: you are being pressured and pulled to leave the gospel behind—to move on to something safer—something that won’t attract quite so much scrutiny and criticism from others.
But I’m here to tell you—be a baby. Savor this simile and live by it: Like newborn infants, long for—desire—crave the pure spiritual milk, that by it—that by the good news of Jesus’ dying and rising—you may grow up into salvation. For you—you have tasted that the Lord is good. You know that His mercy endures forever. And you know your sin—all the ways you’ve lived for yourself alone—all the ways you’ve turned your back on God. But you also believe that Jesus Christ lived a perfect life for your flawed and sinful life. Jesus Christ died in your stead on the cross. Jesus Christ is risen from the dead and through faith in Him you too will rise.
Here’s something to hang onto on this Confirmation Sunday: Christians are never weaned off the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Never. Jesus Christ is our milk, our soft food, our solid food. He is our every meal, no matter whether we are baby Christians or grizzled veterans of the faith. Jesus is our meat and drink our whole life long. And here’s a little more truth: All Christians will be constantly pulled and pressured and tempted to dine on something newer, something sweeter, something more tantalizing and socially acceptable than the simple sustenance our Savior gives us in His Word and Meal.
On this fifth Sunday of Easter we find ourselves in a situation similar to Jesus’ disciples in John chapter six. Huge crowds had come to hear Jesus. But what Jesus taught them there was a difficult teaching. It wasn’t popular or socially acceptable. The crowd just couldn’t stomach what Jesus was saying. John writes that, “After this many of [Jesus’] disciples turned back and no longer walked with him.” And then Jesus turned to the twelve with a question: “What about you? Do you want to go away as well?” And Simon Peter answered, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. . .”
Those words of eternal life are found only in Jesus—and, best of all, they are intended for your ears. In Him is eternal life. In Him is forgiveness for every sin. He Himself is our pure spiritual milk. Accept no substitutes. Come here like newborn babies and cry out for pure spiritual milk.
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment