Little Ones to Him Belong

 

Jesu Juva

St. Matthew 18:1-14                                                        

September 10, 2023

Proper 18A-Christian Ed. Sunday

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          Jesus loves me.  This I know for the Bible tells me so.  Little ones to Him belong.  They are weak; but He is strong.  I’d venture a guess that most of you have known that song for a long time.  Ever since you yourself were a “little one,” you’ve been singing that little ones to Him belong.  Little ones belong to Jesus.  Oh, sure, they’re on loan to us for a little while.  We care for them and nurture them—manage them.  We teach them the fear of the Lord.  We do a lot for little ones.  But we cannot forget this truth:  Little ones to Him belong.  They belong to Jesus—claimed and cleansed in Holy Baptism.

          And not only that, it turns out that little ones are the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.  The little ones aren’t the least, but the greatest.  Even a quick reading of today’s Holy Gospel makes it clear that our life together in the church should be ordered around—not the big and the powerful—but around the ones who are little and weak and helpless.  On this Christian Education Sunday we would do well to pause, and ponder what it means that little ones to Him belong.

          The disciples had apparently been discussing (and perhaps arguing about) who was the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.  How would you answer that?  How do you measure greatness?  We usually think in terms of achievement and accomplishment.  Great men and women accomplish great things, they make a great difference.  In sports the great ones are the ones at the top of their game, the ones who dominate, the ones who make the difference between winning and losing.  In business the great ones are the titans of industry, the ones who build huge companies, employ thousands, and earn billions.  In politics the great ones are the ones who change the course of history, the ones who make history. Great people don’t simply live in the world, they rearrange the world.  That’s greatness, at least among the kingdoms of this world.

          But what about in the kingdom of Heaven?  What about this kingdom where the last come in first and the first wind up dead last?  What about this kingdom that starts off almost imperceptibly small—like a mustard seed?  How do we measure greatness in the kingdom of heaven?

          Jesus calls over a little child.  We tend to think of children as cute and innocent.  We idolize childhood.  But in Jesus’ day, children were mostly regarded as liabilities until they could start working and earning—or if you were a girl, get married and have babies.  In Jesus’ day childhood was apprenticeship—just a time of training to get to the serious business of adulthood—and the sooner the better.  There was no time to waste on childish fun and games.

          It must have struck the disciples as very odd to have Jesus stick a little kid in their midst and say, “Here’s greatness for you.  This little one.  And unless

you turn—repent—and become like this little guy, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”  It’s kind of like the reverse of how things are at Six Flags.  At Six Flags you have to be this big or bigger to go on all the cool rides.  But in the kingdom of heaven, you must be this small or smaller or you will never get in.

          Clearly, greatness in the kingdom—greatness in the church—isn’t about achievement.  It’s not about your religious works and accomplishments.  Little children don’t have achievements or works or accomplishments.  Little ones live by grace.  Little ones live by faith—that is, by trusting in somebody else, namely mom and dad.  Little ones don’t have anything much to give, but they are “giveable to.”  They are eager to take and receive what you have to give them.  And that makes them the perfect pictures of faith.  And faith is the point in all of this.  The greatness of faith, which trusts in Jesus and what He has done for you and what He gives you here and now—that’s greatness in the kingdom.

          The faith of these little ones matters much to Jesus.  Jesus speaks with dire warning toward anyone who would cause one of His little ones to sin.  Jesus says that whoever would cause one of the little ones who believe in Him to stumble in their faith would be better off having a large millstone tied around his neck and be drowned in the depths of the sea.  So much does the faith of His little ones matter to Jesus.  After all, little ones to Him belong.

          The implications for us on this Christian Education Sunday are obvious.  If the faith of the littlest among us is of such great value, then that faith needs to be fed and nourished.  That faith needs to be grounded in the Scriptures—in the commandments and the promises of God.  And parents, this must begin at home.  Parents, do you talk about the faith with your children when you sit in your house, when you go out walking, at bedtime or at breakfast or in the car?  We parents often think that our children are God’s gift to us; and that’s certainly true.  But it is equally true that you are God’s gift to your children.  God has given you to your children so that their faith—which is of greater worth than gold—might be strengthened and deepened by what you teach them and by how you model the faith for them.

          What begins at home continues here in the church.  Here we bring our little ones to Jesus; and here Jesus washes them in Holy Baptism, forgives them and blesses them.  And especially in Sunday school the littlest are able to soak up the Scriptures—to learn those Scriptures by heart.  As I talk with my fellow pastors, it’s easy to conclude that these aren’t good times for Sunday schools.  And the biggest problem generally isn’t that they can’t find Sunday school teachers or a good Sunday school curriculum.  No, the death knell for a lot of Sunday schools is lack of attendance—not lack of children, but lack of attendance.  It’s a sad fact that Sunday morning is no longer sacred time; but prime time for all kinds of children’s activities.  And parents, you know that there are sometimes difficult decisions to make.  Do the decisions you make on Sunday morning reflect the truth that little ones—your little ones—belong to Jesus?

          After all, Jesus gets fairly possessive about those who belong to Him.  You certainly get that sense in the parable He tells about a man who, out of a hundred sheep, has one single, solitary stray.  This man leaves the 99 to go and rescue the one.  That doesn’t make any sense to us.  A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.  99 safe and secure sheep are worth a lot more than one chronically wandering sheep.  And yet it’s the joy of Jesus to seek and save the lost.  To use a double-negative, Jesus can’t not go after and pursue when one of His little ones is absent.  Jesus always takes attendance!!

          And this is good news!  This is the gospel!  This is what Christian Education is all about.  It’s learning the love of God for sinners as seen in a shepherd who is willing to lose everything, in order to save one sheep who doesn’t deserve to be saved.  You are that sheep.  Jesus came to save you.  You specifically.  You in your lostness, your helplessness, your sin and death.  For the joy set before Him—for the joy of returning you to the fold, for the joy of forgiving you all your sins, for the joy of your salvation—Jesus endured the cross and scorned its shame.  He became sin for you.  He died a cursed death so that you—one of His precious baptized and believing little ones—might enter the kingdom of heaven to live with Him forever.  Jesus sought you and found you.  He baptized you.  He absolved you.  He feeds you.  He sustains you.  He carries you to the flock of His Father’s kingdom with the joy of a shepherd who has just found his favored, lost sheep.

          Little ones to Him belong.  Only, it’s not being little that Jesus finds so appealing (otherwise my fellow six-footers wouldn’t have much hope).  It’s turning—repenting of all the pride we have in all our accomplishments, and becoming like a child—being “giveable to,” eagerly receiving the gifts of Jesus, learning of Him, and living in His love.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  Yes, Jesus loves me.  The Bible tells me so. 

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

Cross Bearing with Jesus

Jesu Juva

St. Matt. 16:21-28                                                   

September 3, 2023

Proper 17A                 

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          Jesus said, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”  There you have it.  The theme of the day:

Cross-bearing and Self-denial.  This is going to be a tough sell—especially on Labor Day weekend.  Just when you thought you were going to catch a break, Jesus says to get your shoulders ready for the weight of the cross.  We don’t naturally want to go down the road of cross-bearing and self-denial.  We’d rather do just what our first parents did in the beginning, in the Garden: Adam and Eve denied themselves nothing, seized what wasn’t given to them, and bit down hard on the notion that they knew better than God.

          And we are the living proof that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.  Self-denial isn’t just a tough sell; it’s a foreign concept to most Americans today.  Self-denial?  You must be joking.  Our entire culture revolves around self-indulgence, self-absorption, self-centeredness, self-gratification, self-glorification—not to mention selfies.  The name of the game is narcissism.

          But Jesus says, “Deny yourself.  Take up your cross.”  What Jesus says in this text is a major inconvenience to our quest for self-actualization.  So, naturally, we look for a way to soften up what the Savior is saying.  Maybe all this talk about crosses and self-denial is only metaphorical or symbolic or spiritual.  Maybe Jesus is just exaggerating; He did that once in a while.  Maybe Jesus just has in mind Sunday mornings.  You know? Carry on business as usual Monday through Saturday; but on Sundays just deny yourself a little sleep, show up for this sweet hour of prayer, suffer through long lines at the all-you-can-eat brunch buffet, and call it good.  Self-denied; cross carried; boom!  If you think that’s what Jesus means then ask yourself this:  Where would we be if Jesus Himself had only taken up a symbolic cross—or a metaphorical cross—instead of a real, wooden cross with nails?  We wouldn’t be here—that’s for sure.

          Today’s Gospel reading is a turning point in Matthew.  It records the precise moment when Jesus begins to make the turn toward His own cross—toward Jerusalem and Calvary.  Up to this point in our Lord’s ministry, it’s been kind of fun to follow along—watching Him boss those demons around, healing scores of sick people, feeding thousands, stilling storms, walking on water, running circles around the scribes and Pharisees.  Who wouldn’t want to follow Jesus?  The crowds flocked to Jesus, and we would have been right there with them.

          But no sooner had Peter let loose with his glorious confession that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God—than Jesus began to take a different tone.  From that time Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem, suffer, be killed, and rise again.  From that time, Jesus explicitly began to tell them just what it meant that He was the Christ—the Son of God, in human flesh.  In a word: the cross.

          Peter famously objected—immediately, forcefully, predictably.  God forbid it, Lord.  This shall never happen to you!  Oh, Peter.  There but for the grace of God go I . . . and you.  One minute Peter could confess the divinely revealed truth about Jesus, and in the very next breath try to derail His death and resurrection.  One minute Jesus could commend Peter, saying, “Blessed are you, Simon.”  But in the next minute Jesus would rebuke Peter, saying, “Get behind me, Satan.  You are a hindrance to me. You have in mind the things of man.”  One minute Peter spoke divine truth.  The next minute he was a spokesman for Satan.  And Peter had no idea which was which.

          Peter had no idea; and neither do we.  So sneaky and slippery is our sinful nature that one minute we’re holding fast to what is good, but the next minute we’re indulging in evil.  One minute we’re generously donating to help hurricane victims; but the next minute we’re doing our best sloth impersonations when we ought to be serving and helping the members of our own family.  With our lips we say, “I forgive you,” while in our hearts we plot and plan our carefully crafted vengeance.  As for those who rejoice, we’re jealous of them.  And regarding those who weep, we make a wide detour around them (what a buzz kill they are!).  With our tongues we bless . . . and we curse; we proclaim the truth . . . and we whisper demonic lies.  And, most of the time, we don’t know which is which.

          This is why the Christ and the cross go together.  This is why Jesus said it was necessary—why Jesus said that He must go to Jerusalem, suffer many things, be killed and on the third day be raised.  It wasn’t optional—not if our sin and death were to be definitively dealt with, once and for all.  The cross was critical and crucial.  The cross would be how God’s self-denying, self-giving, self-sacrificing love would be shown to the whole world.

          This is why Satan tried to subvert the cross.  The cross is the one thing the devil really fears.  The cross is the devil’s downfall.  The devil knows that the sacrifice of Jesus’ perfect human life on the cross silences all the demands of the Law.  He knows that the death of the Son of God covers the world’s sin completely—that sinners like us are able to stand before God forgiven, righteous, and holy because Jesus died and rose as our sacred, sin-bearing substitute.  The devil knows that his accusations are now answered for in the holy blood of God’s holy Son.

          The Christ and the cross go together.  This is why our Jewish neighbors are particularly offended by the cross.  It’s why our Muslim neighbors are particularly offended by the cross.  This is why, still today, the devil wants to distance you from the cross of Christ.  He couldn’t stop Jesus, but maybe he can mess with you a little bit—get you to think that you have to earn your forgiveness—get you to think that your baptism means very little for your messed-up life—cleverly convince you that the Lord’s Supper is nothing more than a sentimental, symbolic reminder of what Jesus did long, long ago.  He’d love to get your eyes off of this crucifix so that you can focus more clearly on your own needs and narcissism. 

          Separating yourself from the cross is the first step toward gaining the whole world—and losing your own life.  That’s really dumb.  Yet people do it all the time.  If you’re doing it right now, stop.  Repent!  Set your mind on the things of God instead.  Deny yourself as you do the work of your vocations with diligence and determination.  Follow Jesus right here to where He shares the benefits and blessings of His holy cross with all who gather in faith around His blessed Word and His Holy Supper.

          Jesus asked, “What shall a man give in exchange for his life?”  The answer is nothing.  You have nothing to give.  We are all beggars.  But here’s the glory of the cross:  Jesus gave His life in exchange for your life.  In fact, He gave His life in exchange for the life of the world.  One holy, perfect, sinless, spotless life—for you, in your place.  You are died for.  You are loved!

          Keep that in mind when the crosses you bear are heavy and painful.  Keep that in mind when persecution comes your way.  With the eyes of faith we can see right past our present sufferings to the resurrection glory that far outweighs them all.  With faith in Jesus you literally have nothing to lose—nothing except your sin, your guilt, and your shame.  That’s the way of the cross—the way on which Jesus invites you, saying simply, “Follow me.”

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

 

Strength in Diversity?

Jesu Juva

Romans 12:1-8                                                               

August 27, 2023

Proper 16A                                         

 Dear saints of our Savior,

          In today’s epistle we make the leap from Romans chapter eleven to Romans chapter twelve.  And it is a leap—a tectonic transition in Paul’s most profound epistle.  Sure, it’s just one small step for Paul; but it’s one giant leap for you and me. 

          At the risk of oversimplifying, Saint Paul spends the first eleven chapters of Romans telling us who we are.  And who are we?  We are sinners—all of us having fallen short of the glory of God—but also justified freely by grace, through faith, for Jesus’ sake.  Who are we?  We are baptized—buried with Christ in the tomb and raised with Him to a whole new life.  Who are we?  We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us, living each day in the sure and certain hope that God is working all things for our eternal good.  Who are we?  We are God’s chosen, the New Israel, the church of Jesus Christ.  That’s who we are! (according to Romans 1-11)

          But Romans chapter twelve takes us from who we are . . .to how we live.  What do the lives of those redeemed by Christ the crucified look like?  What do we do now?  Present your bodies as a living sacrifice, Paul writes.  No more sacrifices involving goats or rams or lambs, for Jesus is the Lamb of God who was sacrificed on the cross for the sin of the world.  Now the sacrifices that please God are the sacrifices you offer with your body.  When you use your brain, your heart, your muscles to serve your neighbor—that is what Paul calls a “living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”

          How should we live?  Each one of us needs to know and recognize the “measure of faith that God has assigned” to each of us.  We need to know our part and play our part.  That phrase, “the measure of faith” only occurs here in Paul’s writings.  Some have misunderstood it to mean that God gives different amounts of faith to different people:  Some people get an amazing, resilient faith, while others get something less than that.  But that’s not true.  The faith God gave to Saint Paul and Saint Augustine—the faith God gave to Martin Luther—is the same faith He has given you.  God holds nothing back when it comes to His gift of faith:  He who did not spare His own Son but gave Him up for us all, how will He not also  . . . graciously give us all things?  You have faith to the full!  You lack no good thing!

          So, when Paul writes about the “measure of faith that God has assigned” to each of us, he’s describing the function of faith—the expression of faith—the way that faith is lived out in ministry and service and sacrifice for other people.  And here there are differences!  Diversity, variety, a multiplicity of manifestations!  Faith is a living, busy, active thing.  And that faith is busy and active in different ways in different people.  This is what Paul means when he writes about “the measure of faith that God has assigned” to each of us. 

          Paul uses one of his favorite analogies to illustrate:  For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ. We are one body in Christ.  There is but one holy Christian and apostolic church.  But just as your one body has countless different parts, so is the church made up different people with different measures of faith.  We are united in one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of us all; and we are a diverse collection of faithful, gifted people.

          For an even better example, I’m so glad the Our Savior Musical Ensemble is playing today.  The Christian life is about learning the part that God would have us play.  And our ensemble is comprised of musicians playing different instruments.  And note that it is an ensemble—a diverse group playing together under one director.  We’re all soloists by nature.  We love to show off and toot our own horns and be admired for our virtuosity.  But we all have to learn—learn to play our part in God’s orchestra, according to the measure of faith God has assigned.

          But don’t overlook the diversity of our ensemble.  We’ve got flutes and trumpets, violins, violas, cellos—not to mention the organ, which is the king of instruments.  But where would we be if our ensemble was comprised of nothing but tubas?  What if all we had was a clattering chorus of clarinets?  What fun would that be?  Just a deadly, dull uniformity.

          But in the church God gives a diversity of gifts.  He gives a specific “measure of faith” to each and every member.  And notice that these gifts draw us together.  These gifts serve our mutual encouragement.  This diversity serves to build up the church of Jesus Christ.  And, yes, in this diversity—in this God-given diversity of gifts—there is strength.

          This is quite different from the demands of diversity we see in the world today.  In our culture, “diversity” usually denotes things like skin color, ethnicity, sexuality, gender.  In our culture diversity is used to drive us apart and separate us and segregate us.  It makes us into isolated, self-centered narcissists, demanding special recognition for our self-chosen identities.  This kind of cultural diversity has the potential to be poisonous as it drives us apart and separates citizens and neighbors into competing camps.

          But notice that the diversity God gives in the church is for the good of the whole church.  It builds up the body of Christ.  It draws us together and unites us in worship and service.

          Remember that today’s text answers the question:  How then do we live?  How do we live as those who confess (along with St. Peter) that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God?  How do we live as members of His church on earth?  Well, here’s a simple answer from today’s text:  Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them.  If you want marching orders, here they are: Having gifts that differ . . . let’s use them!  So, what are your gifts?  And are you using them?  What talents or abilities has God given you to serve the needs of your fellow saints?  Do you know?  Have you ever considered that?  Sometimes those gifts aren’t obvious. 

          The needs of the church—now those are obvious!  Anybody can spot what it is we lack—what we need in the body of Christ.  We need SS teachers, voices for the choir, people who pray without ceasing.  We need generous givers who can help us expand our mission impact here at home and around the globe.  We need people who can care for the poor in our congregation.  We need leaders who can organize and inspire with zeal and help make this sacred space look even more beautiful and sound even more heavenly.  Those are but a few of the needs.  I could go on for pages with what it is we need.

          But what are the gifts?  What are your specific gifts?  What can you say or do to build us up—to edify, to inspire, to encourage?  What problems can you solve? What effort can you underwrite?  (If you don’t know what your gifts are, then let’s you and me get together for a visit sometime.  I can help.) 

          St. Paul writes, Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them. This is so important.  God’s gifts—the personal, individual gifts He has given each of us—these gifts must be used.  To squander a gift from God is unthinkable for the baptized child of God.  When you refuse to use what God has given you to use, you are on shaky ground.  To refuse the gift is to refuse the Giver also.

          But please note, these gifts must be used in the right way.  Let’s say you have the gift of generosity, or the gift of showing mercy.  Use that gift, BUT . . . don’t discuss it—don’t highlight it, showcase it, put it on your resume and social media, and compare the gift you have with the gifts someone else has.  There too we get into trouble.  That diversity of gifts can become deadly and divisive when improperly used—just read 1 Corinthians.  But rather, take your cue from Romans chapter twelve:  Having gifts that differ . . . let us use them.  And using them, just wait—wait in expectation for the results that God’s gifts can achieve.

          To know your gifts—and to use your gifts—can only happen “by the mercies of God.”  That phrase comes right away in v.1.  Everything we are comes as a result of the “mercies of God.”  By the mercies of God the Lord Jesus has cleansed you of all sin and made you a member of His holy church.  By the mercies of God you are renewed and refreshed at this altar with the very body and blood which Jesus once shed for you on the cross. 

          How do we live?  This is how we live!  We speak because God is speaking to us through His Son.  We give because we have been given to.  We show mercy because we have received mercy.  Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let’s use them!

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