Ten Day Teachable Moment

 

Jesu Juva

Acts 1:12-26                                                                           

May 16, 2021

Easter 7B                                                 

 Dear saints of our Savior,

          On this past Thursday—the Ascension of our Lord—we said goodbye to Jesus.  Well, not really.  Jesus is with us always to the very end of the age.  But to our ears, the account of our Lord’s ascension really sounds and feels like a goodbye.  And it must have especially seemed that way to the disciples who watched Jesus disappear from their sight.

          But that departure began an amazing ten days for the tiny church Jesus left behind.  Today’s reading from Acts chapter one places us squarely in the middle of that ten day teachable moment.  Of course, the disciples didn’t know it was a teachable moment—those ten days between Jesus’ Ascension and the coming of the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost.  They had simply been told to stay in Jerusalem and wait.  They must have felt like they were adrift—like sheep without their Good Shepherd—unsure, uncertain, and unconvinced about what to do next. 

          The artwork on the cover of today’s bulletin sets the stage for us.  Take just a minute to pull out your bulletin and take another look at that portrait of the ascension.  The focal point of the painting, of course, is Jesus—the risen,

ascending, living Lord.  He was crucified, died, and was buried.  But on the third day He rose again.  And for forty days the risen Christ appeared among His disciples, speaking about the kingdom of God.  The hearts of all the believers were steadfastly united by faith in this Jesus.  Every last one of them believed that—in Jesus—they had forgiveness of sins and eternal life. 

          But beyond that belief is right where the unity ended.  That’s where the solidarity stopped.  Just take another look at the bulletin cover; and this time focus on the believers at the bottom of the painting.  There you see utter confusion and disagreement.  For each one of the believers is looking in a different direction, pointing in a different direction, assuming different postures and facial expressions—a far cry from the neatly ordered, carefully spaced pews into which you are now organized.

          What this artwork actually shows is a teachable moment.  It reminds us that what unites the church is always invisible and unseen.  What unites believers is faith in Jesus Christ; and you can’t see Jesus or faith in Jesus.  What you do see in the church is often what’s depicted in this painting—a lot of confusion, chaos, and disagreement.  They were united in faith and doctrine; but beyond that, they didn’t see eye to eye on much else.  Still today in the church you see people with different ideas, different perspectives, different visions for how the church should carry out her mission to make disciples of all nations.  If you don’t know what I’m talking about then you probably haven’t attended many church conventions or voters’ meetings—or many call meetings.

          This moment in the life of the church was a teachable moment because it teaches us how to live together in peace even when we disagree with one another.  It’s also a teachable moment because of something that you don’t see on the bulletin cover—or more accurately, because of someone you don’t see depicted.  Judas was dead.  Judas, who had been a trusted member of their fellowship for three years, had betrayed Jesus and then taken his own life. There is terrible emotional trauma in the wake of every suicide—but especially that of a trusted brother in the faith whose most memorable act had been one of betrayal.  How would the tiny church react when one of their own had caused such trauma and disappointment?

          And so this text teaches us on two counts:  What do you do when you can’t agree with your fellow believers?  And what do you do when a fellow believer acts in a way that hurts and disappoints you?  You know what comes naturally, don’t you?  Whenever Christians can’t agree about some aspect of their life together it’s natural to get defensive, to get aggressive, to try and get your way through sharp and forceful words.  It’s natural to demonize the opposition—to recruit allies and choose sides—to make those who disagree with you look bad.  If we can’t agree, then I’ll be disagreeable.  You don’t need me to tell you that the devil does some of his best work in these kinds of situations.  For I’m sure you’ve heard about congregations that come to blows over carpeting, over money issues, over music issues, over a my-way-or-the-highway mentality that has no place in the church of Jesus Christ. 

          Beloved in the Lord, there’s a better way.  There will always be disagreements among believers in the church.  There will always be fellow Christians who disappoint you and cause trauma to the body of Christ.  The church is made up of poor, miserable sinners; but that can never be an excuse to demonize the one you disagree with—to hurt others as you have been hurt—to fan the flames of disagreement into a scorched-earth battle against your brothers and sisters in Christ.

There’s a better way—a better way taught for us today by Peter and that little band of believers.  It was a teachable moment for them and for us.

          First, they didn’t let the death of Judas distract them from the life and resurrection of Jesus.  Nor did they allow their differences and disagreements to distract them from the unity they shared through their common faith in Jesus.  They recognized that all of them were witnesses of Jesus’ resurrection.  They had seen and touched and heard the resurrected Jesus.  Because He lived, they knew what was in store for them.  Because Jesus was alive, they could live each day in hope and expectation.  Jesus was more important than their disagreements and disappointments.  His death and resurrection were at the heart and center of life for those first believers, just as Jesus is at the heart of everything for the believers here at Our Savior.  In Jesus, we are one, made holy by the truth of God’s Word.  In Jesus we have the forgiveness of our sins and the power to love one another as He has loved us.

          There’s more to learn from this teachable moment.  How did they preserve their unity despite disagreements?  Well, you might have missed it, but the place where the believers gathered together to hash things out is described by St. Luke as “the upper room.”  Yes, probably that upper room.  They made a point to gather together in that same sacred space where, just weeks before, the disciples had gathered with Jesus on the night when He was betrayed.   On that night, in that same upper room, Jesus had prayed for them, that they would all be one.  On that night, in that same upper room, Jesus had washed their feet, showing them how to serve and love one another.  On that night, in that same upper room, Jesus had given them His very body and blood to eat and drink for the forgiveness of sins.  It was to that same upper room that the believers retreated after Jesus ascended.  There they prayed for one another, served one another, and remembered the words of Jesus. 

          It’s the same reason we gather right here, in this sacred space, week after week, time and time again.  Here we gather to pray to Jesus, in the glad confidence that He is still praying and interceding for us.  Here Jesus still washes His disciples, in the waters of Holy Baptism (as with little Jonah this morning).  Here Jesus is the host, serving us with His precious body and blood that He might lead us onward in faith toward Him and in fervent love toward one another.  This is the place were disagreements are dissolved, where unity is preserved, where forgiveness is offered and received.

          Those first believers also teach us today that Jesus is at work among us, despite our troubles, our traumas, and disagreements.  The work goes on!  For it always surprises me that even in the midst of their chaos and uncertainty, Peter turned to the Scriptures.  And from the Scriptures he concluded that they needed to have a call meeting—that the Lord needed to select a new apostle to take the place of Judas.  They prayed.  They cast lots.  And the Lord chose Matthias to be apostle number twelve.  And we never hear another word about good old Matthias.

          Someone has pointed out that the name Matthias sounds a lot like the Greek word for “disciple,” which is “ma-thay-tase.”  And you’d have to agree that Matthias and “ma-thay-tase” do sound similar.  Perhaps the reason we don’t hear more about Matthias is because he stands for all the disciples that would come after him, all the believers including all of us gathered here at Our Savior this morning.  His story is our story.  The unfinished work of making disciples continues to be unfinished.

          But that work is being done.  For the Lord Jesus is at work among us and through us.  He brings order out of chaos, and forgiveness for our sins.  He brings peace and healing to each one of us.  He builds His church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.  From the Father’s right hand Jesus is working all things for your eternal good, and for the blessing of His church, until He comes again in glory. 

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

We Shall Overcome

Jesu Juva

1 John 5:1-8                                                                             

May 9, 2021

Easter 6B                                                  

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          The Scripture readings for this morning remind us that the world we live in is not all it’s cracked up to be.  On sunny spring days—with blue skies and blooming flowers—it’s easy to forget that this world is out to get you.  It’s easy to forget that Satan is described by Jesus as “the prince of this world” (Jn. 16:11).  It’s easy to forget that our citizenship is in heaven—and that we’re only temporarily deployed here on earth to be the light of the world—even while called to battle against the world.

          In the writings of Saint John, “the world,” stands for all the forces of evil that are arrayed against Jesus Christ and His church.  The world is part of that unholy trinity that’s out to get you—the devil, the world, and your own sinful nature.  Now, it’s okay to enjoy blue skies and the blooming flowers of spring.  But don’t dare forget that you are a soldier on the front lines of battle, taking aim against the world.  Your marching orders are to “overcome the world,” to stomp it under your boot and live in love as children of God.  Jesus once said, “In the world you will have tribulation.  But take heart; I have overcome the world.”  And St. John picks up that theme, and adds to it, in today’s epistle:  “Who is it that overcomes the world,” he asks, “except the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God?”

          But can I let you in on a little secret about the world?  Most of us have grown rather fond of the world.  Despite all the tears, all the trials and tribulations we experience in the world, most of us are at peace with the idea of staying right here—in the world.  Yes, heaven sounds awfully nice.  But you can say all you want about the glories and beauties of heaven, the truth is, most of us are in no hurry to get there.  Maybe it’s the fear of dying or anxiety about the unknown.  But whatever it is, most Christians would prefer to sing songs about heaven’s streets of gold, but while continuing to tread on streets of asphalt.

          We secretly sympathize with Lot’s wife (remember her?), she who was so attached to life in this fallen world.  She—along with Lot and their two daughters—lived in Sodom.  And apparently, this family of four souls comprised the only righteous people in the entire city of Sodom.  You would think that Lot’s wife would have been glad to leave that terrible place, where sexual perversion and violence had gone mainstream to such a degree that the behavior of the Sodomites became legendary—so bad that the Lord rained down sulfur and fire from heaven to utterly destroy Sodom.  And yet, Lot and his family practically had to be dragged away from the place by angels.  But as they fled, Lot’s wife was unable to obey the clear warning of the angels.  She couldn’t help herself.  She looked back with longing, and became a pillar of salt.

          What about you?  How fond have you become of your life in this fallen world?  Now you may claim that you want to hang around here simply so that you can serve your fellow man; but nobody really believes that, least of all God.  For the records would seem to indicate that serving others hasn’t been your top priority.  You may also claim that you want to hang around a bit longer so that you can more fully enjoy the gifts of God—gifts like family and friends, good food, tasty beer, beautiful spring days.  These are indeed gifts of God.  But the truth is, we love to turn these gifts into idols.  We’ve bowed down to the pleasures of this world.  These pleasures have become our top priorities.  They have taken first place in our lives, instead of the God whom we should fear, love and trust above all things.  We are both “in the world” and “of the world,” despite claims to the contrary.

          But God’s Word today reminds us of the question we ought to be asking:  “Who is it that overcomes the world?”  Who is it that successfully fights off the desires of the flesh, and the desires of the eyes?  Who is it that battles triumphantly against pride and prejudice and possessions?   Who is it that doesn’t give a rip about wealth or honor or success in this world?  Who is it that lives already today—here and now—as a citizen of heaven?  Who is it that gives this world a

knee to the groin and a fist to the gut and lives as a holy child of God?  Only one, John writes, only one—the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.  That one will overcome the world.

          So, you believers, battle on—battle on against your sinful desires.  But know that in your battles you will lose as often, or more often, than you win.  Turn away from what tempts your eyes, but know that even blind men lust.  Or if that’s too much, then simply abide in the love of Jesus—love others as He has loved you.  It sounds easy enough.  But even on this day when we celebrate the love that mothers have for their children and children for their mothers, even that love (we have to admit) is flawed and fickle and prone to failure. 

On this day, and every day, we need to repent.  We need to believe.  For I’m here to tell you:  You have not overcome the world.  The world has overcome you.  You are road-kill on this world’s highway—a casualty on the battlefield of good and evil.  The world has overcome you—but . . . it has not overcome the One in whom you believe.  And that makes all the difference—all the difference in the world.

          St. John asks, “Who is it that overcomes the world?  [It is] the one who believes that Jesus is the Son of God.”  This same Jesus once created the world—a perfect world.  He created the heavens and the earth from a watery chaos.  And now this same Jesus has come to remake this fallen world—to do it all over again—not just by water, but by water and blood.  He saved Noah and his family through water.  He saved the Israelites at the Red Sea through water.  And now He has come to save you, not by water alone, but by water and by blood.  If it sounds messy—if it sounds violent—that’s because it was.  The business of saving fallen sinners in a fallen world was both messy and violent.  As your sacred substitute Jesus endured the spit and the insults, whips that flogged Him and nails that pierced Him—and in death even the thrust of a soldier’s spear.  And from that spear-inflicted wound came forth water and blood.  St. John writes, “This is He who came by water and blood—Jesus Christ; not by water only but by the water and the blood.”

          By His crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus Christ has overcome the world for you.  For only Jesus was truly “in the world” but not “of the world.”  Jesus really did desire only to serve and not to be served.  Jesus kept all the commandments you don’t keep.  And Jesus rejected all the idols to which your knees have bent.  He is God’s gift to the world.  He is God’s love in human flesh and blood—God’s love in water and blood.

          Beloved in the Lord, the water and blood that once flowed from the Savior’s side are still flowing today, here in the church.  For that water is the very same water that splashed over you at the Baptismal font.  With that water God is at work to save you.  By the water of your Baptism, your miserable failures on the battlefield of this world are liquidated, the stains of your sin are showered away, and you are born again—readied for life in the world without end.  That’s the water; and now comes the blood.  In Holy Communion we have blood from the Savior’s side—blood that declares that your sins have all been paid for in full—blood that delivers the perfect peace of knowing that all things are now right between you and the Father—blood that breaks this world’s death grip on your life and frees you to love as you are loved, to live and to die in the glad confidence that Jesus Christ chose you—that you are a friend of Jesus.

          Believing in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, you can gladly cut your ties to this dying world when you are called to the Savior’s side.  Believing in Jesus Christ, you can live “in the world” but not “of the world.”  You can love as you have been loved, and you can bear fruit that lasts.  You can live as a pillar of faith instead of a pillar of salt.  Who is it that overcomes the world?  It is you.  You have overcome the world in Jesus, who overcame the world for you. 

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

 

The Branch Abides

 

Jesu Juva

St. John 15:1-8                                                                         

May 2, 2021

Easter 5B                                                          

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          Today we have a tailor-made text for Confirmation Sunday.  We have a Bible verse brimming with application for Confirmation.  It’s a metaphor made for a day like today:  I am the vine; you are the branches.  Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

          I’ve actually been thinking about these words of Jesus for a very long time.  For me, these words have a confirmation association that goes all the way back to April 17, 1983—the day of my own confirmation.  On that day Pastor Dennis Schmidt placed his hands on my head, and spoke the words of the Confirmation verse he had personally chosen for me:  I am the vine; you are the braches.  Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing (John 15:5).  This passage is the perfect passage for this Confirmation Sunday.

          Jesus is the vine.  You are the branches.  The Father is the vinedresser (or, we might say, the “gardener”).  Unlike the “shepherd” metaphor of last Sunday (shepherds being somewhat scarce these days), a simple walk around the block provides plenty of examples of vines and branches.  It perfectly illustrates your union with Jesus through faith.  Joined to Jesus in faith, you are alive and fruitful, as living branches joined to a living vine.  That image of vine and branches is so fundamental to the faith we confess that it’s carved into the wood of this pulpit

(right here!) and sewn into those paraments hanging from the altar.  These symbols preach a silent sermon reminding you that, joined to Jesus, you are alive and fruitful—growing in faith and good works.  This symbol positively screams with the kind of encouragement associated with confirmation:  Stay connected to Christ!  Abide in Him!  Don’t separate yourself from your Savior!   Amen and amen!

          But there’s something in the fine print of today’s holy gospel which must also be mentioned:  that part about “pruning.”  Jesus tells us that dead branches get pruned by the Father.  And even branches that are fruitful He snips and clips and trims back in order that they might produce even more fruit.  We know what this means for grape vines and for fruit trees.  Cut off the dead wood and prune back the living branches to make them even more fruitful.

          But what does this mean for us, my fellow branches?  It means that our heavenly Father is “pruning” us—not with fancy pruning clippers—but with something much, much sharper.  God prunes our lives with His Law.  He’s snipping away at the Old Adam in us—cutting off the rotten, dead deeds produced by our sinful nature:  including our limitless love for self, our shortage of self-control, our impatience, and our utter lack of kindness and gentleness for those who don’t do what we say.  The deadwood in us that succumbs to sin—it needs to be pruned away.

          The Old Adam in us hates those pruning shears.  Our sinful nature would prefer to grow wild like an unpruned vine or an untrimmed tree.  But do you know what happens when a grapevine goes untended and untrimmed and is allowed to grow wild?  There’s lots of green on the outside; but there’s even more deadwood on the inside.  And as for fruit?  Well, hardly enough for a glass of grape juice, let alone for a nice bottle of Cabernet.  We need to hear this warning:  Live your life on the wild side—dodge, evade and ignore the patient pruning that comes from God’s Law—and your faith will wither and die.  Apart from Jesus you are fruitless.  Apart from Jesus you are dead.  Apart from Jesus you can do nothing.

          A key word from today’s gospel reading is “abide.”  Abide in me and I in you.  As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you unless you abide in me.  Jesus Christ invites you to “abide” in Him.  “Abide” is a powerful, significant word.  To “abide” is to dwell, to take up residence, to make your home someplace.  When your hillbilly relatives write to say that they’re coming to “abide” with you, watch out because that means they’re moving-in, lock, stock, and barrel.  To abide in Jesus means that He is your life—and there is no life apart from Him.  To “abide” is not something that happens once a week for 75 minutes.  That’s not abiding.  Abiding isn’t dipping your toe in the water; it’s diving into the deep end headfirst. 

          It’s particularly true of Christians (post-confirmation) that we take our “abiding” in Christ far too lightly.  Whether it’s how casual we are about worship or how carelessly we listen to God’s Word, we need to be much more intentional about abiding in Jesus.  We sometimes have the attitude that we’re really just fine on our own—that all we need is just a little booster shot of Jesus now and then to keep us going in the faith.  And that right there is one of the devil’s best tricks:  Convincing branches that they can do without the Vine—or that they only need to be “reasonably close” to the Vine.  But “reasonably close” to Jesus doesn’t cut it.  Cut yourself off from Jesus—sever yourself from the Savior—and you won’t abide in the faith for long.

          Many years ago when we lived in South Dakota we had a night of severe storms.  When I awoke the next morning, the storms were long gone, golden sun was peaking over the horizon, and the air was still sweet with the smell of ozone.  But it was my backyard that really caught my attention.  My backyard had never been greener.  To my tired eyes it looked amazingly lush and thick.  But a closer look showed that hail and high winds had stripped away lots of green leaves and foliage from the tree branches.  My lawn looked so green because it was covered by a carpet of green leaves severed from the surrounding trees.  But the summer sun soon went to work on those leaves.  What looked so lush and alive at 6AM, was wilted, withered, and scorched by that afternoon. By that evening there was nothing left to do but gather them up, and take them away for burning.  They may have looked beautiful in the dawn’s early light, but even then—stripped from the tree—severed from their source of life—they were already withering and dying.

          This is why Jesus invites us to abide in Him.  This is why Jesus invites us to receive His gifts—to hold preaching and His Word sacred, and to gladly hear and learn it.  This is why I tell every young person I am privileged to confirm that I’m not confirming them because they may have mastered the Small Catechism.  I’m not confirming them because they know all the books of the Bible and because they may or may not know how to spell “Ecclesiastes.”  I am confirming them in a way of life—a way of living—a way of living where Jesus is the vine and they are His branches—a way of living and dying—and abiding forever—in Jesus Christ, our Savior.

          In this Jesus, in His death and resurrection, God has embraced you.  He has baptized you, forgiven your sins, welcomed you to the holy meal of His body and blood.  He has grafted you to the True Vine; and He prunes your life lovingly, carefully, and strategically to strengthen your faith and make you even more fruitful.  Jesus is the vine and He’s always there—always faithful, always forgiving, always inviting you closer:  Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  I am the vine.  You are my branches.

          Jesus wants you to be fruitful—to live large in His life—to live joyfully in His forgiveness.  You are His branches, abiding in Him.  In Him you are forever fruitful.

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