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.

 

God's Weedy Field

 Jesu Juva 

St. Matt. 13:24-30, 36-43                                                    

July 23, 2023

Proper 11A                                

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        We begin with the photo on the cover of today’s bulletin:  amber waves of grain—wheat ready for the harvest.  There are two kinds of people in this

world—people who look at that picture and say, “No big deal,” and people who are appalled that a perfect field could be tainted and blighted by such an ugly, insidious weed.  I personally can’t stand this photo—can hardly bear to look at it.  It agitates me.  What’s that weed doing there?  Get that green thing out of there!  Stop the car!  Let me wade into that wheat and extract the weed!         

          Every gardener—every farmer—knows that weeds are a perennial problem.  There are no vegetable gardens with only vegetables—no flower gardens with only flowers—no amber waves of grain with only grain.  The weeds are always there too.  And they’re sneaky, those weeds.  They cleverly confine themselves just inside the tomato cages.  They shelter securely beneath the broad leaves of zucchini plants.  There, in closest proximity to my most productive produce, are weeds.  And I can’t whack those weeds without also risking damage to the precious plants next to them.  And so I have learned to live with some weeds.  I tolerate them so as not to damage the nearby vegetables.

          In today’s Holy Gospel Jesus spins out a parable based on the perennial problem of weeds.  In this parable, “all the world is God’s own field.”  And in this field the Son of Man goes about sowing His good seed.  But this very same field—the very same furrows—are tainted, defiled, and contaminated by a weed-sowing enemy.  This enemy is the devil, and he’s bold and brazen in his ability to sow weeds in God’s good field.

          The first point of the parable is this: wherever the good seed of God’s Word is preached and planted, right there the devil is lurking in the shadows, waiting to work over the very same soil with a noxious array of bad seed.  Always, without fail, right alongside the Word of God something else—something undesirable—is also growing up.  The seeds of sin and unbelief are being mixed and mingled and planted right alongside the good, faith-producing seed of God’s Word.

          Do you realize what this means?  It means that even right here and right now—among those who offer here their worship and praise—the devil is also hard at work.  You are delusional if you think the demonic enemies of God only scatter their seeds in bars and brothels and internet chat rooms.  Oh, no.  They would much rather sow their sinful mayhem in the fertile soil between pulpit and pew, nave and narthex, in stately seminaries and at synodical conventions.  Whenever and wherever the good seed of God’s Word is being sown, there you can be sure the enemy is sowing his seed too.

          This is why the Scriptures teach us that while the church is made up of all those who believe in Jesus Christ, yet on this side of heaven, there are always hypocrites and evil persons sprinkled in among the saints (AC VIII).  Martin Luther saw this sad truth at work throughout the whole history of the church.  Wherever the pure gospel was preached and sown, there the devil raised up wicked men to oppose it.  Luther laid out his evidence for this in a sermon based on this very parable.  He said, “Angels become devils.  One of the apostles betrayed Christ.  Christians become heretics.  Out of the OT people of God came the wicked men who nailed Christ to the cross.  So it happens still [today]” (Day by Day, p.83).  Wherever God’s garden grows, the devil is also cultivating a crop of corruption.  Where God builds the church, the devil builds a chapel.

          Now, so far in this parable, there aren’t many surprises.  Our own experience bears out the truth that there’s always an orchestrated opposition to God’s good work in this world.  But the surprise of this parable—the thing that shocks the gardener in me—is that God tolerates the weeds—for now.  When the indignant servants in the parable ask permission to pull up the weeds, the Master says, “No—No, lest in gathering the weeds you root up the wheat along with them.  Let both grow together until the harvest.” 

The weeds in God’s field will not yet be pulled.  No herbicides will be applied.  The weeds are tolerated for now.  They are allowed to grow until the harvest.  What kind of gardener—what kind of farmer—could ever have such a high degree of weed tolerance?  Why does God permit the ungodly and the wicked to grow and thrive right next to and among the righteous?  Why is the Garden of our God NOT neatly manicured, but blighted with weeds?

Beloved in the Lord, this is how God’s garden grows: It grows with the devil’s weeds and the Savior’s fruitful vines intermingled and tangled up.  And sometimes, you can’t tell what’s what or who’s who.  If nothing else, this shows our God’s incredible patience for sinners—that He wants all to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.  Unlike some other religions of the world which have no toleration—which teach and preach hatred and death to the infidels—your God is patient, not wanting anyone to perish—but for all to come to repentance and faith.

Jesus Christ Himself is the reason for God’s weed-friendly ways.  For in Jesus alone there is power to transform the world of weeds into the most fruitful branches of the living vine.  In Jesus, what is the vilest weed today could become the saintliest child of God tomorrow.  Because Jesus Christ has died for all—no exceptions.  In Him, God was reconciling the whole world of weeds to Himself, not counting our sins against us.  Instead, the Savior bore those sins in His body on the cross.  Jesus, the sinless Son of God, became like a giant weed Himself, carrying the sins of the entire weed-infested world.  And God the Father cut down that sin-bearing weed.  He was put to death for our trespasses and was raised again for our justification.  He was put to death and raised again so that sinners and unbelievers and the worst of all weeds might be brought to repentance and faith—and shine like the sun in the Father’s glorious kingdom.

This just leaves one question:  What should we do with the weeds for now?  What should we do about the people who by all appearances have separated themselves from Jesus and His church—or are actively working against Jesus and His church?  It’s clear that God tolerates them.  It’s certainly not our job to consign some to hell and others to heaven.  God and His angels will handle that at the end of the age.  Nor is it right for us to condone their sin in any way.  For now, God simply calls us to throw the doors of the church wide open, to give all men and women the chance to hear the Word of the Gospel and take it to heart—to speak the truth in love.  Because in hearing that Word is the power to transform the worst of weeds into living branches of the true vine, Jesus Christ.

Before you leave here today, I want you to think of the weeds you know—people who for all intents and purposes are not growing in the grace of Jesus Christ—people who manifest a spirit that is not the Holy Spirit.  There are certainly weeds among your co-workers, among your friends, among your family.  The message of the Scriptures concerning these souls is not just a message of toleration, but of love.  God calls us not just to live with the weeds—not only to tolerate them—but also to love them.  The great writer Dostoevsky said this about love: “to love a person means to see him as God intended him to be.”  Don’t see the weeds for what they are today; see them as what God intends them to be—see them for what they can be and could be in Christ.  In the garden of our God, there is not one living soul for whom we cannot hope and pray.  There is not one soul in whom the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ cannot do miraculous, life-changing things.  We ourselves can testify to that.

Today you and I—we’re growing in the garden of our gracious God.  The seed of His Word has taken root in you.  You’ve been watered in the gentle splash of Holy Baptism.  There are weeds all around.  But the day will come when there will be a separation—when those who reject God’s free grace in Jesus Christ will be cast into eternal fire, and when those covered in the righteousness of Christ will shine like the sun in the Father’s eternal kingdom. 

Regarding that final separation, the German theologian Helmut Thielicke puts it into perspective:  “The last judgment is full of surprises.  The separation of the sheep and the goats, of wheat and weeds will be made in a way completely different from that which we permit ourselves to imagine.  For God is more merciful than we are, [God is] more strict than we are, and [God is] more knowing than we are.  And, in every case, God is greater than our hearts” (p.82).  He who has ears, let him hear. 

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

The Intersection of Seed and Soil

Jesu Juva

St. Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23                                                 

 July 16, 2023

Proper 10A                              

 Dear saints of our Savior~

          It’s been a quiet week in Whitefish Bay.  On Wednesday afternoon we got a good, soaking rain.  Nothing severe, just hours and hours of showers.  It was the kind of rain you really appreciate in mid-July.  You could almost hear the gardens growing.  Even the farmers down at the Chatterbox Café (typically a pessimistic bunch) even they were almost giddy over this gift of precipitation. 

          What perfect timing today for the Prophet Isaiah to remind us of rain’s religious significance.  It turns out that the rain that comes down from heaven—the rain that waters the earth and causes gardens to grow and crops to sprout and flourish—that rain is a lot like the Word of God.  God’s Word goes forth like rain and gets results.  The Word accomplishes what the Lord desires and achieves the purposes for which the Lord sends it.  So says Isaiah.

          But if that’s true, then why don’t we see the Word of God getting big results?  Why isn’t the church growing by leaps and bounds?  Why do baptized children grow up only fall away from the church?  Why is Christianity sharply declining in our country?  Why don’t we see the Word causing more fruitfulness in our lives and in the lives of other Christians?  Why does the Word seem so weak?

          To answer these questions, Jesus takes us to the garden—to the intersection of seed and soil.  This is the very first parable Jesus tells in Matthew’s gospel; and our Lord changes up the imagery just a bit.  In Isaiah the Word of God is compared to rain.  In the Parable of the Sower, the Word of God is compared to seeds.  Those seeds, Jesus says, are the “word of the kingdom.”  Those seeds are the good news about what God is doing for sinners through Jesus of Nazareth.  The seed of the Word gets sown in human hearts.

          But this parable immediately makes clear what an epic failure this whole seed-sowing endeavor is.  The intersection of seed and soil is sadly unsuccessful.  Some of this good seed get snatched away by the Evil One.  Other seeds sprout up joyfully for a while, only to wither later on because of tribulation and persecution.  Worry and greed also strangle a fair share of those sprouting seeds.  Only a tiny fraction of God’s great seeds—only the very slender portion that falls on good soil—actually grows and thrives and produces an abundant harvest. 

          This explains why the Word doesn’t always perform in the ways we expect.  Although the Word is powerful and filled with potential; the Word is also frail and fragile—like a little seed.  Tragedy struck the seeds in my own little garden this year.  For the first time ever, I planted sunflower seeds—the Kansas state flower.  I had visions of those big, round flowers greeting me every day this summer.  But a squirrel came along and dug up every single sunflower seed I planted.  I tried re-planting with the same result.  My seeds were sabotaged by squirrels!  

          There are no sunflowers on the bulletin cover this morning.  But you might recognize the cover art on today’s bulletin as “The Sower” by Vincent van Gogh.  I’m no expert on such things, but I believe this is an example of an

impressionist painting.  There’s no attention paid to detail.  But through the use of color, light, and shadow, you get the “impression” of a given scene.  You can almost feel the warmth of the morning sun as you view this painting.  A quirky television character I enjoy once surmised that van Gogh and Monet and Manet—they must all have been very near-sighted to produce such fuzzy, unfocused images.

          But couldn’t we also say the same thing about the sower in Jesus’ parable?  That sower went out to sow.  But his sowing would seem to indicate that he’s not seeing very well.  He sows those seeds like someone who’s blind as a bat.  Look at the guy—recklessly, randomly, haphazardly slinging seed from here to kingdom come.  On cement and sidewalk, between weeds and thorns, where soil is thick or thin, rich or poor—it matters not.  He’s prodigal in his planting—liberally letting fly fistfuls of His holy seed.  Why such sloppy sowing?

          This is our generous God, who wants all people to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth.  This is our God who has reconciled the whole world to Himself in Christ, not counting men’s trespasses against them.  This is our God who forgives wickedness and who remembers sins no more.  He sows the seed of His Word everywhere—on the homosexuals of Sodom, where only a few seeds take root while the rest fall on rocky hearts destined for fire and brimstone.  He sows the seed of His Word on the murderous people of Nineveh, preached by a reluctant prophet named Jonah, and the whole city of 120,000 repent in sackcloth and ashes.  Sometimes the seed sprouts and sometimes it doesn’t.  Our God sows here, there, and everywhere, sending preachers to preach the Word in season and out of season, To men who like or like it not.

          But my dear hearers of the Word, heed this warning:  It would be a big mistake to conclude that the seed of God’s Word has sprung to life in you because you’re the right kind of person—a good person—a noble and generous person—the kind of person that God can’t help but bring into His kingdom.  That’s a lie we love to believe.  So, repent and believe the truth:  When God first sowed His seed in your heart it fell on rock-hard soil—soil already choked by weeds and thorns and thistles. 

          Sinners cannot make themselves into good soil.  Sinners cannot make themselves receptive to the saving Word of Jesus.  No, we first need to be plowed under by the rototiller of God’s Law.  We need to be broken up and crushed—our hearts lacerated like furrows in a field by God’s holy Law.  This is why you ought to rejoice when someone confronts you with your sin, when you feel the pangs of guilt and shame, when you get caught red-handed, when you get a taste of your own death in the form of sickness and weakness.  When the mirror of God’s Law reflects the ugly truth of what you are in yourself, apart from Jesus—when you find yourself afflicted, persecuted, suffering, and broken to bits—rejoice!  Rejoice in those sufferings, for by them you are being transformed into rich, productive soil where the word and promises of God can be most potent and powerful.

          The Lord will not allow the plowed field of your heart to lie fallow.  The Divine Sower sows the seed right there—recklessly, all over the place.  The Sower sows and His Word has its way with you.  He waters it with water from the baptismal font.  He gives the growth in you.  And by His Word of grace and forgiveness, He makes your life fertile and fruitful, filled with good works.  God’s Word doesn’t go looking for good soil to fall into; it creates good soil for itself, no matter how inhospitable your heart may be.

          It would be as if I walked just a few blocks west of here and emptied all my seeds on the hot, dry, dusty hellscape of that no-man’s-land we call interstate 43 . . . and, by sunrise tomorrow that serpentine cement jungle would be transformed into a green and growing garden of delight—a construction zone blooming and brimming with greens and grains, ready for the harvest.  This is what our Lord does for you:  He transforms the hard pavement of your heart into a parking place for the seed of His Holy Word, for His Holy Spirit, for His holy body and blood, for His life that lasts forever.

          All this is because God’s holy Word—His seed—is packed with power.  It’s packed with the life of Jesus who died for your sins and who suffered hell in your place.  In the stripes and the deep furrows of His flesh your sin was planted.  He suffered, died and was buried in the earth, like a seed, so that He might have you and keep you as His own.  The nail-scarred hands of Jesus tell the whole story as to why God’s Word is producing so much fruit and so many good works in you:  God sowed; you received.  God transformed your rocky heart into good soil; you received.  God gave growth to His seed; you received.  God keeps you in the one truth faith, grants you daily forgiveness, and opens the kingdom of heaven to you and all believers; and you—you receive that salvation as a gift from God.

          The sower went out to sow His seed.  He has sowed it in you.  And when the final harvest comes, He will find in you an abundant crop of faith, hope, and love.  He who has ears, let him hear. 

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