A Devil of a Sabbath Day

In Nomine Iesu
St. Mark 1:21-28
January 29, 2012
Epiphany 4B

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

It was a devil of a Sabbath Day for the Savior. The Son of God was right where you would expect Him to be on a Sabbath—in church among God’s people. But it’s a surprise appearance by a member of the enemy camp that threatens to steal the show—or at least spill a few secrets about the Savior.

St. Mark describes this unexpected synagogue visitor as “a man with an unclean spirit.” We might say that he was demon-possessed—that the devil exercised a degree of control over this man in a way that goes beyond our understanding. Any talk about demons, devils and spirits can go terribly wrong in one of two ways. Christian author C. S. Lewis identified these two problematic approaches to devils in his preface to “The Screwtape Letters.” Here’s what Lewis wrote: “There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them.”

Lewis’s words are a helpful reminder for us as we dig deep into today’s Holy Gospel. Whatever the Holy Spirit means for us to understand about this man’s condition—whatever is meant by “unclean spirit”—we would do a grave disservice to this text by concluding that the man was just suffering from some sort of mental illness—that those rubes in the First Century were guided by superstition rather than science. In other words, we don’t dare attribute this man’s odd behavior merely to a malfunctioning brain. For as surely as there are angels, there are evil angels, demons, unclean spirits. They seek to destroy everything good—especially your faith in Jesus the Christ. Disbelieve in their existence at your own peril.

But if disbelieving in devils is one error, then the opposite error is just as perilous—what C. S. Lewis called “an excessive and unhealthy interest” in them. And there is something about this man with his unclean spirit that demands our full and undivided attention. And if he captures our attention, then think about all the worshippers who had gathered at the synagogue that day—expecting a routine liturgy, with Jesus of Nazareth as the guest preacher.

If you’ve been attending church for any length of time, then you’ve probably come to expect a few distractions while you’re sitting in the pew: toddler temper tantrums, people passing out, cell phones ringing—even an occasional bat flying overhead. But to have a demonized man disrupt the Divine Service would probably be a first for most of us. We could spend the next thirty minutes speculating about this man and what he was doing in the synagogue that day. Was he a member of the synagogue? What did he look like? What did his voice sound like? (Was it spooky or normal?) But those aren’t the questions the Holy Spirit wants us asking about this account. The Holy Spirit always points us to Jesus—leads us to ask, “Where’s the ‘Jesus’ in this account? What of Jesus is being delivered here? What is Jesus saying and doing for us?”

So let’s back up for a minute and take it from the top—keeping Jesus in mind. It was a Sabbath Day in Capernaum and Jesus was right where you would expect to find Him. Jesus doesn’t sneak around like the devils; He’s got nothing to hide. The Sabbath was a holy day—a day designed for rest. But “rest” didn’t mean sleeping late, or breaking out the golf clubs, or heading out for bagels and coffee. “Rest” on the Sabbath meant rest from work, in order to worship. And worship means hearing God’s Word. “We should fear and love God so that we do not despise preaching and His Word, but hold it sacred and gladly hear and learn it.” Coming to church and hearing the Word of God is not work; it is rest. Jesus says so. “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened,” said Jesus, “and I will give you rest.”

At the synagogue everyone was amazed and astonished at Jesus’ teaching, because He taught as one who had authority, and not as the scribes. The difference was that Jesus didn’t quote other rabbis. To hear Jesus preach was to hear God’s Word directly from God Himself. And when Mark reports that they were astonished at His teaching, the word for teaching also means “doctrine.” Jesus was delivering doctrine—law and Gospel that kills and makes alive—doctrine that delighted His hearers.

It was right about then, as Jesus was dishing out the doctrine, that the man with an unclean spirit attempted to steal the show. I don’t know how common demon possession was in first-century Galilee, but it sure seems like the devils were putting in overtime during Jesus’ ministry. And the timing and the place of this first encounter are not mere coincidence. You can be sure of this: wherever the doctrine of Jesus Christ is being taught, the devil and his demons will be hard at work. There’s nothing the devil despises more than the preaching of Christ crucified for sinners. There’s nothing more distressing for the prince of darkness than for you to know what you believe about Jesus and why.

This room is sometimes referred to as the sanctuary. But if by sanctuary we mean “a place where the devil can’t get after us,” we’ve missed an important point of today’s text. Jesus’ first encounter with one of Satan’s lieutenants happened in a room like this—in a gathering of God’s people, in a sanctuary. That tells me that the front lines of the battle against the forces of darkness are not located “out there” somewhere. The front lines of spiritual warfare are located right here. Let me give you an example of what happens right here on the front lines when you come to worship.

You hear the preacher declare that coming to church is a good thing. But the devil tells you that coming to church is the only thing. Just occupy the pew for 70 minutes or so, put in your time, see and be seen, shake a few hands—and then go back to your life of sin, comforted that you’ve been forgiven. It sounds so right, but it’s all so wrong. The forgiveness of your sins offered here is the full and free forgiveness of every sin, BUT it is never the permission to go on sinning in the same old ways—carelessly, casually, comfortably. God’s promised forgiveness can never be used as an excuse to go on living a lie. Lies are the native language of the devil and his demons. But those lies of his are never far from the truth—never so outlandish as to be unbelievable.

In fact, did you notice that when the demon spoke up in the synagogue, he told the absolute truth about Jesus—declaring that Jesus was the holy one of God come to destroy the works of the devil? That unclean spirit was right on all counts. But he spoke that truth to distract, to short-circuit Calvary, to prematurely let out the secret about who Jesus was and why He had come. The devil was desperate to keep the Christ from the cross.

That’s still the work of devils and demons in the church today. They’re not out to give you a good scare; quite the opposite. They want a Jesus proclaimed who was not crucified for our sins and raised again for our justification. They want a Jesus proclaimed who has no teaching—no doctrine—at all, a Jesus who approves and affirms whatever choices people think are right for them. They want a Jesus proclaimed who is just an example to follow, instead of a Savior whose bloody death saves us from death and damnation.

The Jesus who is present with us this morning is the same Jesus who spent one devil of a Sabbath Day in Capernaum. And His power over demons then is the same power at work among us today. With a word, Jesus silenced the unclean spirit in the synagogue: “Be silent.” It was the same word used by Jesus to quiet the wind and the waves. Jesus wasn’t flustered or surprised when the service was disrupted that day in Capernaum. It didn’t take much effort from Jesus to undo the devil’s work there. Jesus just spoke His Word. And that was enough.

Jesus’ Word is also enough for us today. If even the devils must submit to Jesus’ Word, then what is there Jesus cannot accomplish by His Word? Change water into wine. Calm wind and waves. Cleanse lepers. Raise the dead. Forgive sins. Declare sinners to be saints. His Word makes simple water to be a holy baptism—a cleansing splash of life and forgiveness and rebirth through the Holy Spirit. His Word makes simple bread and wine to be His own body and blood for us sinners to eat and drink. His Word works faith in your heart and sustains you when times are tough. His Word brings rest for the weary. And behind every one of Jesus’ Words stands the crucifixion cross of Jesus.

Devils and demons and evil angels are real; but they’re not out to scare you or go bump in the night. Nor do they merely want to get you to say or do bad things. They want to separate you from Jesus and His Word, and so destroy your faith. If that’s a troubling thought for you, you’re in the right place. You’re on the front lines of battle. It’s a devil of a Sunday once again here at Our Savior. But Jesus of Nazareth is fighting for you. Despite all the distractions and all the disruptions, Jesus is here for you. He is the holy one of God, your Savior—come to destroy death and give you life that lasts forever. Amen.

The Messenger Doesn't Matter

In Nomine Iesu
Jonah 3:1-5, 10
January 22, 2012
Epiphany 3B

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

I’m sure you know what it’s like to be a reluctant messenger. You’ve got something to say—something that absolutely, positively needs to be said; but it’s tough to get the words out. Maybe you’re reluctant to speak up because you fear the reaction you’re going to get. Maybe you’re reluctant to speak up because you think it will do no good—because saying something would be a huge waste of time and energy. Or maybe you’re unwilling to say anything because—deep down—you just don’t care.

When it comes to the truth about human life, it’s easy to be a reluctant messenger these days. When it comes to the truth that God loves life—that human life is a gift to be treasured and protected from the womb to the tomb—it’s easy to simply stay silent. It would be all too easy to overlook the sad fact that abortion on demand became the law of this land 39 years ago today.

But God’s message concerning human life is powerful and positive. It gives dignity and value to every human life. God gives us the truth about human life—and abortion—because He loves us. He wants the best for us. God’s truth about the sanctity of life may not be trendy or popular, but it is true. So let’s resolve this day not to retreat. Let’s not be reticent or reluctant. Let’s learn of this truth, and speak this powerful truth in love.

When it comes to reluctant messengers, no one takes a backseat to the prophet Jonah. The Lord had a message for the people of Nineveh; and He wanted Jonah to deliver that message. Today we heard how the Word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time. You already know what happened the first time. The first time Jonah ran away. The first time, the Lord said “go east” to Nineveh, and Jonah set sail for the western skyline. God said to do one thing; and Jonah did the polar opposite. Can you imagine it? Of course you can.

We listen to God just about as well as Jonah did. God says, “Thou shalt,” and we say, “I shan’t.” God says, “Go east” and we go west. God says, “Flee from sexual immorality,” and we dive in head first with our eyes wide open. God says, “Forgive your brother from your heart,” and we look for ways to even the score. God says, “Help and support your neighbor in every physical need,” and we look the other way so that we don’t even see the half-dead neighbors God has placed in our path. God says, “Speak the truth in love,” and we stay tight-lipped and loveless.

But learn from Jonah that our reluctance and our rebellion are no match for God. Learn from Jonah the futility of thinking that you can set sail on a Mediterranean cruise when God wants you and needs you to speak the truth to those who need to hear it. Learn from Jonah that God can be rather persuasive in re-directing us in the way of repentance. Jonah being thrown overboard—Jonah being swallowed by a great fish—Jonah being vomited up onto dry ground—let’s just say it was more than enough to convince Jonah to catch the next available flight to Nineveh.

But even after all that, Jonah didn’t head into Nineveh with a smile on his face. He was still reticent, reluctant, and really wishing he could be somewhere else. Because, you see, Nineveh was a dreadful place filled with dreadful people. Nineveh had a reputation for unmitigated evil. The prophet Nahum once said this about Nineveh: “Woe to the city of blood, full of lies, full of plunder, never without victims” (3:1). Not much of a vacation destination. You can see why Jonah had no interest in going there. Yet, God refused to write them off. And Jonah was the man God chose to speak to the people of Nineveh.

Nineveh was a city full of lies; and abortion is surrounded by lots of lies too. The advocates of abortion wrap up the ugly truth about abortion with pretty sounding words like “choice” and “rights” and “women’s health care.” But the truth is that abortion is murder. Like the city of Nineveh, abortion is “never without victims.” In addition to the millions of little victims who were denied their first breath and who were never held in their mothers’ arms, there are lots of living victims too. Abortive mothers and fathers carry around crippling burdens of guilt and shame and regret. God’s message about human life needs to be spoken for all of these victims.

I ask, why be reluctant to speak about this truth? Shouldn’t we be willing to speak up for those victims who cannot speak for themselves? Shouldn’t we accommodate expectant mothers in every way and give them every encouragement to choose life—or to choose adoption as a loving alternative? Shouldn’t we reach out to guilt-ridden mothers and fathers with the amazing message of amazing grace that Christ Jesus came into this world to save sinners—that in Christ God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting men’s sins against them—that although our sins have stained us blood red, the blood of Jesus can make the worst of sinners whiter than snow? Beloved in the Lord, there’s no message more powerful than that—because it’s God’s message to our dying world. And God calls even reluctant sinners like us to be His messengers.

And, don’t you dare think that your words and your actions won’t make any difference at all. For that’s what Jonah thought as he headed into Nineveh. In fact, if you read the book of Jonah, the dirty little secret it this: Jonah didn’t even want God’s message to succeed. Jonah didn’t want the people of Nineveh to repent and turn from their evil ways. Jonah wanted them to get what they had coming. He wanted to see fire and brimstone rain down on Nineveh—wanted to see Nineveh reduced to rubble.

That’s why the so-called sermon preached by Jonah was somewhat lacking: “Forty more days and Nineveh will be over turned.” In Hebrew, that sermon amounts to only five words. I once read where someone claimed it to be the shortest sermon in the Bible. A five-word sermon, delivered reluctantly and half-heartedly. No amusing little stories. No carefully crafted law and gospel. Jonah just said what he had to say, and not one word more. He said the bare minimum and hoped for the worst. If ever there was a sermon destined for failure, that was it.

But surprise, surprise: Despite Jonah’s reluctance—despite the fact that he was just going through the oratorical motions—his message achieved astounding results. The words he spoke went right to the hearts of his hearers. All the people of Nineveh believed God. All the people of Nineveh repented. They all covered themselves in sackcloth and ashes as an outward sign of their inner repentance. How could a messenger this bad get results this good? Because the messenger doesn’t matter. The messenger doesn’t matter when the message is the Lord’s. God’s Word has the power to change hearts and bring light and life where there is only darkness and death.

What does this mean for us? It’s every reason for us to speak up in word and deed about the sanctity of human life. Despite our weakness and our reluctance and our fear of what others may say—we have a powerful and positive message from God. And the success of this message—the results—don’t depend on our power, or on our speaking skills, or on how clever and smart and sincere we think we are. The results are in God’s hands. It’s not our message; it’s God’s. He simply asks us to speak it on His behalf. Our goal is simply to be faithful messengers. The results—the repentance—the saving of many little lives—that we leave to God and to His mighty strength. No matter how steep the odds may seem, as always we must remember, “Nothing is impossible with God.”

In Jesus Christ we can see what God really thinks about human life. In Jesus we see how the hands that knit you together in your mother’s womb—the same hands by which you were fearfully and wonderfully made—those hands were also stretched out on a cross for you—to pay the price for all of your sin. The hands of the resurrected Jesus are still scarred and always will be—as loving reminders that He can remove every scar that our sin might leave on us. And with those same hands, the Lord Jesus will one day embrace you face to face in heaven.

In this world, everyone knows, you usually get what you deserve. But where our God is concerned, the plot doesn’t always run in a predictable way. The bad guys of Nineveh didn’t get what they deserved. They got grace—they got compassion instead. And that’s how it works for every child of God—including you and me. The punishment and wrath we deserve for our sin—that’s not what we get. Instead, Jesus takes the punishment. Jesus takes the wrath. Jesus takes our sins. He gets what we deserve; and you get grace. You get compassion and healing.

We call that the gospel—the good news of God’s love for you in Christ. And when it comes to God’s love for you, He’s never reluctant. Never reticent. His message is all that matters. Amen.

A Christmas Playlist

In Nomine Iesu
St. Luke 2:1-20
December 24, 2011
Christmas Eve

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

Do you have an i-pod? I-pods (and other such devices) have revolutionized the way people listen to music. With i-pods, you pick the songs, you create the playlist, and (because i-pods are so small) you can listen to your favorite tunes almost anywhere at anytime.

The most extensive playlist on my i-pod is my Christmas playlist—nearly seventy songs. I’ve been listening to it a lot lately. But it’s more than just a bunch of songs that I like. These songs have meaning for me. They connect me with my past, reminding me of people, places and stories drawn from a lifetime of Christmases. The voice of Nat King Cole takes me back to an old 8-track tape my parents played when I was little. The piano artistry of George Winston takes me back to college days and still defines the sound of December for me. I first heard the Christmas music of Chanticleer while driving sixty miles one Christmas Day to serve a vacancy on the frozen tundra of South Dakota. The glories of Bach’s Christmas Oratorio connect me with the best of all things German and Lutheran. The Christmas improvisations of Paul Manz taught me to treasure our hymnody. And the stylings of Benjamin Culli are a recent addition to the Christmas playlist, reminding me of blessings we enjoy here and now at Our Savior.

That Christmas playlist grounds me. It connects me with my past, inspires my present efforts, and propels me into the future with hope. That Christmas playlist orients me and sets me straight. Those familiar sounds somehow seem to put all of life in the proper perspective.

God’s Word in Luke chapter two does all of that and more. The familiar sounds of the Christmas Gospel in Luke chapter two are something like a playlist inspired by God. And just like your favorite musical playlist, Luke chapter 2 contains no surprises. You know these lyrics by heart—the people, the places, the story of Jesus’ birth. You didn’t come here tonight expecting to hear anything new, novel or surprising. But don’t underestimate the power of this Christmas playlist from Luke chapter two. For it’s been designed by God to ground you, to connect you with your past, to inspire your present efforts, and send you into the future with hope. This Christmas playlist orients you. It sets you straight. It never fails to put your life in the proper perspective.

God’s Christmas playlist actually begins on a rather secular note: It seems that the government wanted more taxes. And there’s nothing new about that, is there? The government—whether in Rome or Washington or Madison—is always glad to help themselves to more of your money. Nothing is as sure, they say, as death and taxes. But before taxes could be assessed, people and property had to be counted up by means of a census. Thus Caesar Augustus, the most powerful man in the world, was instrumental in fulfilling Micah’s prophecy about the Savior’s birth in Bethlehem—which was the ancestral town of a poor carpenter named Joseph. Behind the politics and partisanship—despite the powerplays of the powerful—God was at work to save you. God’s Christmas playlist reminds me of that—even as the powerful and the partisan continue to plot and plan.

From there, this playlist gets personal. Imagine the heart-breaking plight of Mary and Joseph. Imagine journeying the 90 miles from Nazareth to Bethlehem while Mary was great with child. Imagine the loneliness and fear they must have felt. There was no one to empathize—no one to sympathize—not even a distant relative of Joseph’s would offer them a place to stay in Bethlehem. Only the angels knew what a burden Mary and Joseph were bearing. I suspect you also are bearing a few burdens this Christmas. Sometimes loneliness is felt most acutely at this time of year. For all of us there are times when it seems like we are laboring all alone with no one to empathize—no one to sympathize.

But God’s Christmas playlist reminds us that our feelings of loneliness aren’t quite accurate. The reality is that you don’t bear your burdens alone. Though your friends may desert you and your family may disown you, [and people may mock you because you confess that Jesus Christ is Lord], your God sent His Son to stand shoulder to shoulder with you so that you might cast all of your burdens on Him—because He cares for you. Mary and Joseph no doubt felt all alone, but they weren’t. And neither are you. You have a Savior who knows you, and loves you. God’s Christmas playlist reminds me of that.

That playlist takes an ominous turn with those terrible two words: “no room.” There was no room for them in the inn. Those two words are ominous and terrible because they also describe our hearts—cold, calloused, loveless and stony—with no room for Jesus. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Each of us, in a multitude of ways, by what we have done and by what we have left undone—we have all lived as if we have no room for Jesus in our lives. No room for His Word. No room for His commands. No room for His promises. No room for the people He gives us to comfort and love. With Grinch-like efficiency—like the notorious inn-keeper of Bethlehem—we have refused to make room for the Savior in our busy, complicated lives. We need to admit that sin. We need to repent of that sin. For we can’t properly celebrate the birth of a Savior from sin if we are unwilling to see ourselves as poor, miserable sinners. God’s Christmas playlist reminds me of that.

At the heart of this playlist are these angelic words: “A Savior has been born to you.” This gets us right to the heart of Christmas. The baby in the manger is your Savior. He came to save His people from their sins. He came to destroy death, and bring life and immortality to light. He was born to die for our sins, and rise again to bring us resurrection life. He is your Savior from death. Christmas is a time when we feel the sting of death most acutely—a time when we deeply miss those who have departed this life in peace. Sometimes those tears and that sadness are seen as an intrusion on what’s supposed to be the hap-happiest season of all. But I say, blessed are those who mourn at Christmas, for behind those tears you truly know and recognize the reason for the season—the meaning of the manger: Light and life to all He brings, ris’n with healing in His wings. Mild He lays His glory by, Born that man no more may die. Life that lasts forever is the Savior’s Christmas gift to you. And it IS a gift. There’s no one good enough to deserve it. And no one is so bad as to be ineligible. Whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life. “A Savior has been born to you.” God’s Christmas playlist reminds me of that.

If God’s Christmas playlist has a bit of a honky-tonk twang sound to it, well, that’s because of the shepherds. Although we’ve got some rather romanticized notions about these shepherds, the truth is that the trailer park was probably too good for them. Their church attendance was notoriously bad. They were probably into things like drinking and swearing and carousing—which is information we generally don’t share with first-grade boys when we dress them up at Christmas and say, “Here, be a shepherd.”

But the shepherds from this Christmas playlist have three things going for them: They heard the good news. They believed the good news. And they went to see and hear for themselves their newly mangered Savior. “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this,” they exclaimed. Wouldn’t it be great to retrace the shepherd’s steps from that night as they made their way to the manger? You can, you know. Only you don’t have to go as far as Bethlehem. You can just show up here. Here we’ve got something better than the manger and the swaddling clothes. Here we have the power of God in the preaching of His promises. Here we have the Savior’s real presence, under bread and wine, giving you the faith and forgiveness you need all year long. Be like a shepherd, and let your feet carry you here and see these things which will come to pass in this place. God’s Christmas playlist reminds me of that.

I’ll play my personal Christmas playlist for the next twelve days. But right about Epiphany the music of this playlist will fade away. Then it’s back to real life again—anticipation gone, replaced with the daily grind of vocational responsibilities. But God’s Christmas playlist is preparing you for January too—and for February, March, and April. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen. The shepherds returned. To what did they return? They returned to being shepherds—returned to the unglamorous daily grind of stinky, dumb sheep. You too will return to your unglamorous daily grind.

It will be the same daily grind, but you won’t be the same at all. For God’s Christmas playlist will have had its way with you. You’ll be more grounded in the grace of God, more connected with your past, more inspired for your present efforts, and propelled toward the future with hope in your Savior. With God’s Christmas playlist echoing in your heart, you will be rightly oriented, set straight, with a perspective of praise for just how much God loves you. He is so pleased with you for the sake of His dear Son. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will to men. Amen.

The Mind of Christ

In Nomine Iesu
Philippians 2:1-18
September 25, 2011
Pentecost 15—Proper 21A


Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

Medical technology has advanced to such a degree that there’s virtually no part of your body that can’t be replaced. To receive a new knee or a new shoulder is nothing these days. Vital organs such as lungs, kidneys and even the heart are successfully transplanted into needy recipients almost every day. Why, within the past year or so, surgeons have even succeeded at the first face transplant.

But one thing I don’t think we’ll ever see is a brain transplant. Your mind is uniquely yours. You can swap out any number of other body parts, but you and your mind are inseparable. When the brain does malfunction, all we can do is treat the malady and medicate the mind. What’s the biggest problem with your brain? Mental illness, seizure disorders and Alzheimer’s are some big brain problems. Others of us simply aren’t very smart in some particular subjects.

But where each of our minds fails us most is nothing medical. Our biggest brain problem is not that we’re deficient in math or reading comprehension or even IQ. Our minds can sometimes supply the right answers; but when it comes to living right and doing right the brain you were born with is worthless. When it comes to loving God and loving your neighbor, your mind is vast wasteland. Your brain only cares about you. You are all that matters to your mind. And just let me say, a mind is a terrible thing to waste . . . on you only.

What you need is another mind. What you need is the mind of Christ. That’s the upshot of Philippians chapter two. “Your attitude,” Paul writes, “should be the same as that of Christ Jesus.” But it’s the old King James Version that nails it: “Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.” In other words, think like Jesus. Have the mind of the Messiah. It sounds like good advice. “Be more like Jesus. Make your mind more like His.” Who can argue with that?

But then Paul beautifully unpacks just what he means by the “mind” of Christ; and it turns out that our minds and the mind of Christ have absolutely nothing in common. His gray matter and our gray matter are two entirely different substances. The mind of Christ led Him always to be concerned about others—serving them and helping them. And in the process, though He was God, He made Himself nothing. Literally, He “emptied” Himself—poured Himself out entirely in service to others. Whether it was washing the dirty, stinky feet of His disciples, or having mercy on ten men with leprosy, or confronting demons or feeding the five thousand or forgiving the sins of broken-hearted, teary-eyed sinners—never once did the Savior say, “I’m tired. Go away. Come back tomorrow. I’m busy. I need time for me.” He made Himself nothing. He became the servant of servants. He humbled Himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross. Behold, the mind of Christ.

“Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus.” Beloved in the Lord, if you think this text is simply saying, “Be more like Jesus,” you’re missing something. If you think this text means asking “What would Jesus do?” and then doing it for the rest of your life, prepare to be disappointed. You’d have better luck if you simply volunteered for a brain transplant. As sinners, we don’t have what it takes to do what Jesus would do. If we have to figure it out and do it ourselves, it ain’t gonna get done.

God is giving you so much more today than a command to try harder and be more like His Son. What God gives you today is a reality—a miracle, really. It’s the brain transplant you’ve always dreamed of! It is the mind of Christ—in you. It is the attitude of Christ Jesus shaping your attitudes. It is the servanthood of the Savior serving others through you—through your hands and your feet and your mind. Let this mind (the mind of Christ) be in you.

How can it be that sinners like us who seem to do everything out of selfish ambition and vain conceit can suddenly see the crying needs of those around us . . . and do something about it? How can it be that sinners like us who naturally view ourselves as the smartest people with the greatest needs can suddenly see things in a radically different way? How can it be that sinners like us who can’t be even mildly inconvenienced without complaining and arguing can suddenly suffer great loss with quiet humility? How? It is the mind of Christ—in you—working a radical transformation. It’s like a personality transplant. Your mind is decreasing. The mind of Christ is increasing.

The mind of Christ cannot be understood apart from the cross. But at the cross the mind of Christ is made perfectly clear for all. There we see Jesus as your sin-bearing servant. All the sinful schemes ever hatched and carried out by your warped brain were laid upon Jesus. All the devious, deviant decisions conceived in your fertile brain were attributed to Him. He was made to be our sin. And all that He suffered—the betrayal, the beating, and the blood—all this was God’s deliberate plan to save you—to redeem you and restore in you the mind of Christ. Jesus humbled Himself and became obedient to death because that was the only way—the only way that God could make rebels into His children, and to resurrect brain-dead sinners with the merciful mind of Christ.

Your life is now hidden with Christ (Col. 3:3). Or, to turn that around, the life of Christ is now hidden in you. His mind, His humility, His servanthood—it’s all mysteriously at work in you. For all of you who were baptized into Christ are now clothed with Christ. As baptized children of God, every day we repent of our sins. The Old Adam in us is drowned and dies, and a new man emerges to live before God in righteousness and purity. And that new man inside of you—well, he looks surprisingly like Jesus. Today’s text ultimately isn’t about us doing what Jesus would do. No, the Christian life is really about Christ’s doing and Christ’s working in you and through you, guiding, directing and providing you with strength and humility to love God and serve your neighbor. It’s like Paul told the Galatians, “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me” (Gal. 2:20).

As you draw on the nourishment of His living Word, as you eat and drink His life-giving body and blood, the life of Jesus Himself pulses within you. The attitude of Christ becomes your attitude. The very mind of Christ dwells in you. “Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus.”

You need to remember these words of God especially on those days when you’re tired—tired of giving and giving and giving, and getting absolutely nothing in return—when all your friends and family are in crisis and there’s no one to hear your complaint—when it seems that everyone is taking advantage of you—maybe even the members of your own family. These words are aimed at you when you’re so weary of serving others and when you’ve emptied yourself of every last ounce of compassion and good will—when it seems like the perfect time to get assertive and aggressive and tell everybody else where to get off. What should you do?

You simply let the Jesus in you do His thing. Let go—let God—let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus. We don’t like that answer by nature. It hardly seems fair for me to give and give while others just take and take. “What’s in it for me?” we ask. But that’s not the mind of Christ. The mind of Christ asks, “Who needs me? Who has God placed in my life who needs my service and my support and my love?” You won’t have to look far or wait too long for an answer to that question.

What is it about your life that you find most draining? Who empties you of all the care and compassion you can muster? What cross do you find most difficult to bear? A wealthy woman on safari in Africa once stopped at a primitive hospital for lepers. The heat was intense. The stench was stifling. The flies were buzzing everywhere. The wealthy woman on safari noticed a nurse who was bending down in the dirt, tending to the pus-filled sores and lesions of a dying man. The woman remarked, “You know, I wouldn’t do that for all the money in the world.” To which the nurse gently replied, “Neither would I.” Because, you see, she had the mind of Christ—who came not to be served, but to serve and to give His life as a ransom for many. And with the mind of Christ comes the heart of Christ, the hands of Christ, the eyes of Christ, the compassion of Christ.

Beloved in the Lord, this mind is also in you. In you Jesus Himself is hard at work, until that day when at His name every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

Some Straight Talk about Death and Life

In Nomine Iesu
Philippians 1:19-26
September 18, 2011
Pentecost 14-Proper 20A

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

We believe that the Bible is the Word of God. We believe that the Scriptures are always truthful, always accurate, always powerful. But that doesn’t mean that there aren’t some things in the Bible that are hard to swallow. We sometimes have to wrestle with what the Word says, because what the Word says is so contrary to what our reason and our senses tell us.

The four-word epitaph on the cover of today’s bulletin is one of the most hard-to-swallow phrases in all the Scriptures: “To die is gain.” It makes for a great epitaph. And those four words are the Word of the Lord. But . . . do we believe them—we who have watched loved ones die—we who have had loved ones suddenly snatched away from life to death? Do we believe that “to die . . . is gain?”

Now, before we go any further, let’s be clear on one thing. The Bible doesn’t say, “Death is good.” Nor does the Bible say that death is a natural part of the circle of life. That is not the Word of the Lord. God’s Word tells us that death is the wages of our sin. Death is the final “enemy” that God sent His Son to destroy. When God created the heavens and the earth and after six days declared that everything was “very good,” death was not part of that picture. So let’s not pretend (and don’t you hear me saying) that death is a good thing. But do—do hear the Word of the Lord: “To die is gain.”

It takes a lot of effort just to talk about death. It’s such an unpleasant subject that people generally try to avoid it. Our culture denies death. It’s difficult even for us simply to say that so-and-so died. We prefer the euphemisms (and there are so many to choose from): “He passed away, he passed on, expired, kicked the bucket, bought the farm, bit the dust, met his Maker.” And the list goes on and on. Euphemisms about death aren’t a bad thing. They afford a gentler way to broach a difficult subject.

In fact, St. Paul employed a euphemism to describe death in today’s reading from Philippians. When Paul wrote these words to the church at Philippi, things were not going well for him. He wasn’t preaching to packed pews. Nor was he out planting new congregations and winning new converts. He was in prison. His future was uncertain and grim. But to hear Paul describe his situation, you’d think that he had nothing but good options and pleasant possibilities on the horizon: “I eagerly expect,” he wrote, “that Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.”

Did you catch the euphemism? Paul didn’t say, “I desire to die.” What he said was, “I desire to depart and be with Christ.” Now, there’s a euphemism that tells it like it is. There’s good news in that description of death. Straight talk about death never sounded so good. I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far. Beloved in the Lord, you could read a hundred books on death and dying—you could digest a dozen best-sellers by people claiming to have been to heaven and back again. But here in the pages of your New Testament is the heart of what you need to know about death and dying.

What happens when you die? Here’s what happens when you die: You will be immediately with Christ. You will stand in the Savior’s presence. You will not be alone. You will not be afraid. You will not be asleep. “Sleep” is another euphemism for death that you sometimes find in the Scriptures. And based on that, some Christians have mistakenly concluded that at death the soul just goes to sleep—a kind of holy hibernation—until the day of resurrection. But it ain’t so; for the Bible tells us otherwise. When we depart this life—when we die—we are immediately with Christ. And with Christ, you will lack nothing. You will have everything—far more than you deserve and more than you can even desire. (Even the body you temporarily leave behind is destined to be raised, resurrected and glorified.) And this is why. This is why Paul could write those four little words that sound so foreign—so alien—to our usual way of thinking: “To die is gain.”

Do you believe it? And if you believe it today, will you also believe it in your last days, your last hours and minutes? Many of us, I think it’s safe to say, fear dying. And I think it’s more than just the fear of the unknown. I think we fear death because death is a reminder of our sin. “The wages of sin is death.” “The soul that sins will die.” And when it comes to sin, we each have a record that runs long and deep: the good things we have failed to do and the bad things we have so eagerly engaged in. Over the years, it adds up. And the dying person can no longer hide from that sobering reality of sin.

But you don’t have to hide! Jesus came to save you from that sobering reality of sin. He came into the world to save sinners. For this very reason, Jesus was born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. Jesus took your sins all the way to His tomb. He was your stand-in beneath the wrath of God—your sacred substitute. He confronted death head-on, and by His resurrection Jesus defeated that terrifying enemy. Death couldn’t hold on to Jesus and it won’t hold onto you either. For you, death is just a doorway. Depart through that doorway and you will be with Christ.

And this is why we believe those four little words: “to die is gain.” So often when a loved ones dies, the comfort we speak centers on all the bad things that the deceased no longer has to deal with. And it is comforting to realize that there’s no more pain, no more suffering, no more tears, no more sinning. But don’t stop there. Dying isn’t just leaving the bad stuff behind. It is gain. It is receiving—receiving the fullness of all that our God has to give.

And while I’d love to go into great detail about all of that, I can’t. For the Bible also tells us this about the life of the world to come: “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Cor. 2:9). Don’t base your hopes for the afterlife on human authors who claim to have been there and back again. Don’t even set your sights on streets of gold or pearly gates. Don’t imagine halos and harps on fluffy white clouds. Think Jesus. You will be with Him. You will see Him as He is—true God and true man. He loves you and He’s got the scars to prove it. In Him is life and forgiveness and peace that passes understanding. To die is gain.

Do you believe that? If you do, then I’m sure that you will want the people who come to your funeral to know that too—that in Christ, “to die is gain.” Have you given any thought to your funeral? I don’t mean, have you put down a deposit at the funeral home? I mean, have you considered what Scripture, what hymns, what music you want to bear witness to the hope that you have in Christ? I hope you’ll have your funeral here, and not in the fake, sterile serenity of the funeral home. I hope that you’ll choose readings and hymns and music that trumpet your faith in Christ—texts that boldly proclaim your belief in the resurrection of the body and the life of the world to come—instead of readings and music better suited for soft weeping into a lace hanky of hopelessness. Not sure? Then let me make some suggestions for you to pick from. Then write it down and give a copy to me. We’ll give you a send-off fit for a saint—for one redeemed by Christ the crucified.

This is also why we Christians attend funerals. When a brother or sister in Christ dies, it’s easy to say, “I didn’t know him or her very well. I don’t think I’ll go to the funeral.” Beloved in the Lord, not true! You are more deeply united to the people gathered here in this fellowship than to any other people on earth. If you can kneel next to someone at the altar and share together in the gifts of Christ, then you share a holy bond that cannot be broken. And your voice is needed at the funeral to help proclaim and sing to any and all in attendance that, because Jesus Christ has destroyed death, “to die is gain.”

But as for you, you’re not dead yet, are you? You’re still alive and kicking—still quick and not dead. And I can’t let you go without giving good news for this day and this hour. To die is gain, it’s true. You can look forward to that. But it’s also true that to live is Christ. Your daily labor is not in vain. The work of your vocations, your labor in the Lord’s vineyard here, your successes and your failures—in all the humdrum, everyday stuff you do, you are not alone. Here and now, Christ is exalted in you—in your body, in your works, in your words and deeds. To live is Christ. Here and now—is Christ. You have the power of His promises preached and proclaimed. You have His forgiveness. You have His body and blood. Your body is a temple of His Holy Spirit.

You, like Paul, have nothing but good options. Whether you are at the top of your game or locked up in prison, (or even dying) you can’t go wrong. For . . . to live is Christ and to die is gain. Amen.

A Tale of Two Temples

In Nomine Iesu
1 Corinthians 6:19-20
August 30, 2011
Karen Schulz Funeral

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus,
Dear family and friends of Karen Schulz,

Be still, my soul. That was the refrain of the hymn we just sang. It’s a simple, little sentence which expresses the quiet confidence of all those who trust in Christ. Karen’s soul possessed that quiet confidence in these last weeks. Karen’s soul departed this life to be with Christ late last Friday afternoon. And that fact is what brings a measure of quiet confidence to our souls, as well. You probably expected to hear something about the soul as a part of this evening’s service.

But to speak of the soul only tells half the story. For with every soul there is also a body. Both soul and body are important. Both are created by God. And both are destined for eternal life. One of the most astounding statements about the Christian body is found in 1 Corinthians 6: Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body. The body of every Christian is a temple—a dwelling place inhabited by God the Holy Spirit.

These words about the body as a temple made me think of Karen; because Karen had great concern for this temple—this house of God. All of us here today knew Karen in different ways—as a family member, a friend, a neighbor, a sister in Christ. But I knew Karen uniquely as the head of the altar guild here at Our Savior. As head of the altar guild, Karen oversaw that dedicated group of volunteers who care for this temple in special ways, who set-up and clean-up for our weekly celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Banners, flowers, candles, paraments, communion ware, linens—if it has to do with the area here around the altar, the altar guild is involved.

For all the years I’ve been privileged to serve as pastor here, I’ve been privileged to have Karen leading the altar guild. The work isn’t for everybody. It’s sometimes tedious and time-consuming. It often involves washing and drying, polishing and filling, cutting and gluing, cleaning and organizing. And, when you’re done, nobody gives you a standing ovation. Nobody applauds for the altar guild. Karen saw things here that others overlooked. If something was a little stained or dented, chipped or bent, worn out, wrinkled, or otherwise unworthy to be used at this altar of God, Karen noticed it. Karen told me about it. Karen fixed it, replaced it, recovered it, or found something newer and better.

This temple mattered—all of these little things mattered—to Karen because she knew that God dwells here. Here in this temple Karen confessed her sins to God and received absolution. Here in this temple the Words and promises of Jesus were placed in her ears and in her heart. Here in this temple she received the body and blood of Jesus for the forgiveness of sins. Over the years, there were baptisms, confirmations, weddings—all happened here in this holy temple.

It grieved Karen in recent years that she wasn’t well enough to make it here as often as she would have liked. But it wasn’t for lack of trying. One Saturday she came with Bob to set up Communion and I found her sitting on the steps resting. Eight stairs were more than she could handle that day. She would probably be embarrassed to have me mention that today. But it showed me just how determined she was that this temple would receive the care it needed.

This temple is pretty important. But this temple isn’t nearly as important as that temple of the Holy Spirit, the body of our sister Karen. This temple isn’t nearly as valuable, precious, and priceless as that temple. Remember our text, “Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit?” Karen’s body, too, was a temple of the Holy Spirit. Karen’s body, your body, my body—temples of the Holy Spirit. God dwells here. That doesn’t mean that you and I are God, far from it. But it does mean that these frail, fragile bodies have been claimed by Christ the crucified. You were bought at a price, the Bible declares. Not with gold. Not with silver. But with the holy, precious blood of Jesus, that you might be His own.

And all this is true of Karen’s body too. All the care and attention she gave to this temple is nothing compared to the care and attention that her body received and will receive from the Lord Jesus Christ. Karen’s body was not a random collection of DNA or a product of evolution. Karen’s body was carefully and lovingly knit together in her mother’s womb by God Himself—the giver of life. Karen was born into this world (body and soul) on January 11, 1942. And then Karen was re-born in the waters of Holy Baptism later that year. In those cleansing waters, Karen’s body became a temple—a dwelling place of the Holy Spirit. Her sins were washed away. She became a child of God. Her body became a precious, priceless piece of real estate, purchased and paid for by the blood of Jesus Christ, her Savior.

Karen needed a Savior. We all do. For rather than honor God with these bodies of ours, we so often choose to dishonor Him. We abuse our bodies, misuse our bodies, as if our bodies were our own private property—rather than temples of the Holy Spirit. The good things that we ought to do with our bodies often don’t get done. And the bad things that we ought to avoid with our bodies—well, those are the very things we end up doing. It’s called sin; and it runs death deep in every human body. You can try and deny that awful truth—hide it, run from it, blame somebody else. But no matter how you slice it, the wages of our sin is always death. And that’s a payday that none of us can avoid for long.

Jesus didn’t avoid it either. Jesus came to save His people from their sins—came to save Karen Schulz, body and soul. Jesus lived a perfect life as your sacred substitute. As a true man, Jesus always honored God with His body. That means so much more than that Jesus was always a good boy. For all His good counts for you who trust in Him. His perfect obedience counts for sinners like us. His holiness is your holiness by grace, for Christ’s sake, through faith. A gift! Jesus takes all our bad and gives to us all His good.

And all His good includes victory over death—victory not just for the soul, but also for the body. We confessed it in the Apostles’ Creed just moments ago: I believe in the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Of course, these bodies of ours aren’t yet outfitted for eternity. Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God. But we await the resurrection—the sure and certain hope that because Jesus lives—that because Jesus’ body was raised from the dead—He will transform our lowly bodies to be like His glorious body.

I told you a moment ago how Karen could spot what needed fixing and replacing in her work on the altar guild. Little flaws that didn’t seem important to anyone else caught her attention. And at home too, Karen had an eye for things. She was a collector. Beanie babies, knick-knacks, animals of various kinds, collectables too numerous to mention.

But I mention it because our God is a collector too. I mention it because our God, like Karen, has an eye for what needs fixing and replacing—namely, our bodies, His human temples. We know by experience that these bodies are weak, frail and fragile. They wear out and break down. They are susceptible to all kinds of sickness and disease, including cancer. But I tell you with confidence that in a flash, in the twinkling of eye, at the last trumpet, we will be changed. Our bodies will be raised, restored and resurrected. Today it’s dust to dust and ashes to ashes. But on that day our God will collect and resurrect these bodies of ours. God the Father created these bodies. God the Son redeemed these bodies with His blood. God the Holy Spirit made these bodies His temples. We are not our own. We belong to Him. We are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. And nothing can separate us from that love.

Be still, my soul. The Lord is on your side. May those words give confidence and peace to all of us who today mourn the loss of a wife, a mother, a grandmother, a friend. You are here today, in a sense, because you were one of Karen’s collectables. You caught her eye, and she was glad to have you along for the ride. You were the ones who mattered most to Karen. If she had a story to tell—if she had an opinion to share—you were in on that. You are also one of those collected by Jesus the Christ, along with Karen. That means you are in on all Jesus has to offer—and that is everything. Let not your hearts be troubled. If God is for us, who can be against us? Be still, my soul. The Lord is on your side. Amen.

Who do you say I am?

In Nomine Iesu
St. Matthew 16:13-20
August 21, 2011
Pentecost 10-Proper 16A

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus~

Will you marry me? Would you like fries with that? Do you promise to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God? Paper or plastic? Radiation or chemo-therapy? Are you pregnant? Not all questions are created equal! Are they? Some questions are matters of life and death; others are so routine that we don’t even think about the answer. But of all the questions ever asked or answered, none is as critical as the question posed by Jesus at the heart of today’s Holy Gospel.

Jesus asked the question: “Who do you say I am?” Peter spoke the answer: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And for once, Peter got it right. He nailed it! Peter—who had a knack for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time—gave the perfect answer with perfect timing. Peter couldn’t have given a more perfect answer if God Himself had revealed it to him. Oh . . . wait. That’s actually what happened. “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by man, but by my Father in heaven.”

Peter had some heavenly help with his answer. Peter could confess Jesus as Christ and God not because he was super-duper spiritual or incredibly smart. No, the answer Peter gave came straight from heaven. To know and believe and confess who Jesus is cannot be calculated by human intelligence. As it says in 1 Corinthians, “No one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ except by the Holy Spirit.” Or as it says in the Small Catechism, “I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ my Lord or come to Him.” To know who Jesus is—to confess Jesus as your Lord and Savior—is a gift.

Lots of people think they know who Jesus is. Still today, Jesus has very good name recognition. Jesus has a favorability rating that most politicians would love to have. The people—the crowds—thought that Jesus was John the Baptist or Elijah or Jeremiah—all very flattering and favorable ideas. But all of them wrong. Dead wrong. People still have lots of flattering and favorable things to say about Jesus—that He’s a good example to follow, an inspiration who stood up to corrupt institutions, a champion of peace. That may be true. That may sound nice. That may garner favorable ratings. But it’s not enough--not nearly enough.

Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. He came to save His people from their sins, to seek and save the lost. He came to destroy death, that you might have life and have it abundantly. He came as the one mediator between God and man. He loves you and He gave Himself for you. He became obedient unto death—even death on a cross. This is Jesus! Our Savior! This is the Jesus revealed to us in the pages of the Scriptures. And if we don’t know that—if we don’t believe that—if we have the wrong answers about who Jesus is, then we don’t even know who we are. Get Jesus wrong; get yourself wrong—and others too. But get Jesus right and get yourself right too. Know Jesus and know yourself.

Who are you? Who do you say you are? Are you just a random collection of DNA, a product of evolution? Are you just a very smart animal? A product of society? Are you defined by your grades? By your career? Your income? The car you drive? This isn’t just an exercise in existentialism: Who am I? Who are you? What are we doing here? For if you know that Jesus is more than just a nice guy—that He is the Christ, the Son of the living God—then you know who you are too. You know the truth about yourself—that you are a sinner who deserves death and hell; but that in Jesus you are loved. You are redeemed. You are forgiven. You are not your own. You were bought at a price. And you will live forever with Jesus. That’s precisely who you are.

If you know who Jesus is, then you know yourself as well. And if you know yourself, then you also know those around you—who they are. If you can confess Jesus correctly, then you have the proper perspective to view the whole world, starting with the teeny, tiny baby. In fact, you know the truth about babies still in their mothers’ wombs. The unborn child cries out, “My father says I am an accident. My mother says I am a problem—a terrible inconvenience. My doctor says I’m a risk. But what about you in the church of Jesus Christ, who do you say I am?” And we know. We have the right answer—the revealed truth. We know that the unborn are human beings in the sight of God—lovingly created and fashioned by Him, fully deserving of our protection, our help, our love, our sacrifice.

If you know Jesus—who He is—then you also know yourself and those around you. It means knowing the sick, the disabled, and those confined to centers of care. The sick and disabled person cries out, “My doctor calls me a hopeless case. My insurance company says that I’m not worth the money. My own children say that I am a burden to them. And sometimes I think they’re right. But what about you in the church of Jesus Christ, who do you say I am?” And we know. We have the right answer—the revealed truth. We know that the disabled, the dying, the infirm—that Jesus calls them His very own brothers, promising, “Whatever you do for the least of these brothers of mine, you have done it unto me.”

Jesus unites Himself with the weak and vulnerable to such an extent that when you show mercy to such a person you are really serving your Savior, Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God. Some view these people burdens. But we have the right answer—the revealed truth. We know that those who follow Jesus Christ are in the burden-bearing business. Bearing the burdens of others is what we do, because bearing the burdens of others is what Jesus did. And we know Jesus to be the Christ, the Son of the living God.

I suspect that many of you have known that truth about Jesus and carried it around in your heart since the day you were baptized. Oh, perhaps you weren’t able to articulate it just as perfectly as Peter did. But in that miracle of water and the Word, God the Holy Trinity declared, “Blessed are you.” From that day on, you’ve known Jesus by faith as your Savior. And that knowledge—that faith—it was revealed to you as a gift.

The Jesus revealed to you in baptism is continually being revealed to you in new and wonderful ways—every time you read your Bible, every devotion, every sermon you hear, every time you come to this altar to receive the body and blood of Jesus for the forgiveness of sins, the Savior speaks to you just as He spoke to Peter: “Blessed are you. Blessed are you.” He reminds you that even though the gates of hell are set to swallow you up, yet you are safe and secure—you are on rock-solid ground when you can believe and confess that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God.

Jesus warned His disciples at the end of this scene not to tell anyone that He was the Christ. Keep it a secret. But don’t worry; He’s not talking to you. You can tell anyone and everyone that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. They just had to wait until Jesus died and rose again—until the stone was rolled away from the tomb and Jesus was revealed as the living Lord. That’s the rock solid proof that changes everything. It sharpens our vision so that we can know Jesus, know ourselves, and know what’s good and true in this dark and dying world. The very doors of heaven have been unlocked for you by Jesus Himself. And He says, “Blessed are you.” Amen.