Sermon for LWML Spring Zone Rally: "Waiting"

 LWML Spring Zone Rally - April 22nd, 2023

Psalm 4; Micah 7:1-7, 18-20; Hebrews 9:24-28; Luke 2:22-38

Peace Lutheran Church

Chehalis, WA

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

Standing in line at Fred Meyers. Sitting in our car at a red light. Listening for that kitchen timer to go off when the pie is done. As the musician Tom Petty once sang, the waiting is the hardest part. We may not like it, we may grow impatient, and restless, but that will not change the fact that life is marked by waiting. 

 

The Scriptures are full of stories of God’s people whose lives were marked by waiting. The author of Hebrews preaches hope and promise to God’s people - who, like ourselves, are eagerly awaiting our Lord Jesus’ glorious return on the Last Day. A day we long for and wait as we groan and ache and lament this fallen world we live in more and more with each passing day.

 

Simeon was serving in the temple in Luke 2, and was waiting for the consolation of Israel. Anna was there too, waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem. Isaiah and the prophets had spoken that their consolation was coming. That the true kinsman redeemer of all mankind would arrive to redeem and save. That Abraham’s seed would sprout and give life. That a new and greater Moses would arise to lead his people out of slavery in sin and death. That God would comfort his people by sending his Christ. And he did. Simeon held Jesus the Christ in his very arms that day as he waited for the Lord to keep his promise. As he waited to die. And in the Lord, his waiting was not in vain. 

 

Psalm 4 is a psalm of waiting as well. Answer me when I call, O God of my righteousness!

    You have given me relief when I was in distress. Be gracious to me and hear my prayer!

 

That’s a good prayer to pray when we’re waiting. Waiting for test results. Waiting to reconcile broken friendships and family bonds. Waiting for discernment and wisdom on how to do the work our Lord has called us to do, whether it’s in our congregations, our LWML groups, or any other part of life. 

 

And if we’re honest, waiting on the Lord can often feel like a lifetime. We know we ought to trust, to believe, to have patience, and yet so often we find ourselves filled with worry instead of waiting, filled with pain instead of patience, turmoil instead of trust. 

 

The prophet Micah was waiting on the Lord as well. Micah was waiting for many things. For the people of Israel to listen to YHWH’s word and live in his ways. For the faithless shepherds of YHWH’s people to be faithful in their teaching and preaching. For the people to repent of their idolatry and return to the Lord their God. For YHWH himself to act. To hear their prayer. To be their shepherd. To come and save his people as he promised. 

 

You can hear Micah’s lament as he waits for the Lord…

 

Woe is me! For I have become

    as when the summer fruit has been gathered,

    as when the grapes have been gleaned:

there is no cluster to eat,

    no first-ripe fig that my soul desires.

The godly has perished from the earth,

    and there is no one upright among mankind;

they all lie in wait for blood,

    and each hunts the other with a net.

Their hands are on what is evil, to do it well;

    the prince and the judge ask for a bribe,

and the great man utters the evil desire of his soul;

    thus they weave it together.

 

Sounds like Micah could have been a prophet in our day as well. Waiting in the midst of godless and wicked and evil days. Sin and death without. Sin and death within. It would be easy for us, as I’m sure it was for Micah, to look at the world around us, and our sinful flesh within us, and say to ourselves, “why bother with all this waiting. No one hears us. No one’s coming to rescue. I’m done waiting.” When we wait, sometimes it feels like that’s all we’ll ever do. 

 

Not so says the prophet Micah…But as for me, I will look to the Lord;  I will wait for the God of my salvation; my God will hear me.

 

Micah the prophet preaches something that is more certain than our waiting: The Lord hears you. The Lord will answer. The Lord delivers. 

 

My God will hear me. Micah speaks a sure and certain word to us in our waiting. And so we wait, not with empty promises but with eager expectation. We wait on the basis of what is sure and certain and true: Jesus’ death and resurrection. All of our waiting is answered in him who died and rose for you. We wait on him who is faithful, who keeps his promises, who hears and answers and delivers from the cross to his empty tomb. We wait on Jesus who foretold his crucifixion and rose again three days later just as he said. 

 

We wait with Simeon and Anna for the consolation and redemption that is already ours in Christ Jesus, and will be ours when he returns in glory. And as we wait for that day of the resurrection of the body, Jesus feeds our waiting bodies and souls with his holy body and blood to strengthen us for the journey; he washes us with clean and pure water of Baptism to plant us steadfast in his love and mercy; he forgives us in our distress with his sure and certain word of forgiveness. We wait on him of whom the prophet Micah foretold…

 

Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity

    and passing over transgression

    for the remnant of his inheritance?

He does not retain his anger forever,

    because he delights in steadfast love.

 

He will again have compassion on us;

    he will tread our iniquities underfoot.

You will cast all our sins

    into the depths of the sea.

 

You will show faithfulness to Jacob

    and steadfast love to Abraham,

as you have sworn to our fathers

    from the days of old.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon for Easter 2: "Seeing and Believing"

 + 2^nd Sunday of Easter – April 16^th, 2023 +

Series A: Acts 5:29-42; 1 Peter 1:3-9; John 20:19-31

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

In the Church of the Holy Nativity in Bethlehem there’s a mosaic of Thomas with our Lord’s words spoken to him in John 20:

 

Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.

 

At first that might seem odd. Why would our Lord’s appearance to Thomas after he rose from the dead make its way to the Church of the Nativity? 

 

But if you think about it, it makes perfect sense. Visitors come to the place of Jesus' birth not seeing the things Jesus did for us 2000 years ago, and yet believing in him, in his birth, life, death, and resurrection for us. 

 

This Sunday we find ourselves in a similar situation as Thomas did. Not seeing, and yet believing. We look out at the world around us, at our own sinful flesh within us and everything we see looks the opposite of what Jesus says in his word. 

 

That’s why we can be thankful for Thomas, doubts and all. 

 

Thomas wasn’t with his fellow disciples when Jesus appeared to them that first Easter evening.

 

“We have seen the Lord!” They told him.

 

Thomas replied, “Unless I see in His hand the imprint of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hands into His side, I will not believe.” 

 

Thomas demands visible, tangible proof. An empiricist to the bone, a kindred spirit with folks from Missouri. Show me. Let me see. Let me touch.

 

Now, it’s easy to blame Thomas and wag our fingers in shame at him. Doubting Thomas we call him. What about betraying Peter. Adulterous David. Fearful Moses. Let’s be honest. We all have doubts, fears, and plenty of sin we could be known for. And yet we should be thankful for Thomas, and even more thankful of how our Lord deals with Thomas in his doubts.

 

As the church father St. Gregory once said, “More does the doubt of Thomas help us to believe, than the faith of the disciples who believed.” I thank God that Thomas doubted, for when he later “touched the wounds in the flesh of his master, he healed in us the wounds of our unbelief.”

 

What was Thomas’s hang-up? He wanted something “real,” something you can see or, in this case, touch. Like that hole left by a crucifixion nail in Jesus’ hands. Like that wound in his side from the spear.

 

Thomas had seen the blood drip from Jesus’ dying body; he had seen the cold steel penetrate that body; he had seen the wood smeared crimson; he had seen the stone rolled in front of the tomb. He had seen it all. And for Thomas, seeing is believing.

 

Yet another reason to be thankful for Thomas. For we are Thomas. For us, seeing is believing too. We see what a world full of doubt and despair looks like. Like a downward death spiral. It looks like hopelessness. Brokenness. It looks like confusion. Chaos. It looks upside down from the world God made very good. It looks like the days of judges…everyone doing what is right in their own eyes. We see sin and death everywhere we look…especially when the light of God’s Law shines upon us and exposes our sin and selfishness.

 

And yet, our Lord promises. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.

 

Believing is not the same as seeing. In fact, more often faith is believing the exact opposite of what we see, for that is how God reveals Himself to us.

 

Consider our Lord Jesus. He looks like a man, lives like a man, dies like a man. And yet faith joins Thomas in confessing, “Jesus, my Lord and my God.” 

 

Consider our own daily callings: you work long hours, put up with rude customers, deal with unruly students, clean up after messy children, you help patients who don’t like going to the doctor, or a myriad of doing countless thankless tasks. Yet faith says, “My labor is holy, divine work, for I am God’s tool that He uses to take care of others.” And in the Lord, tour labor is never in vain.

 

Consider our lives right now. We see a troubled economy. Politicians of every stripe and color failing their oaths. Wars and rumors of wars. Troubled schools. Troubled cities and neighborhoods. Confusion about God’s basic creation of human beings as man and woman. We wonder how long, O Lord? Come quickly, Lord Jesus. And yet faith says, I am baptized into Christ and by his wounds I am healed now and forever, no matter what the world looks like. 

 

Thank the Lord that believing is not the same as seeing. To believe is to confess that God is where God seems not to be, to confess that God is hidden and working in our weakness for us and for others, to confess that even though all I see is suffering and death and sin, yet I am blessed in Jesus’ dying and rising, to confess that despite what we see, Christ is risen. And he, the Lamb, is on the throne. 

 

This is why for Thomas and for you, faith is a gift. Because we can’t do it. 

 

Jesus deals with Thomas compassionately. Jesus doesn’t reject him, or send him off. Jesus holds out His scarred hand for Thomas to see. “Reach here your finger,” He says, “and see my hands; and reach here your hand, and put it into my side; and be not unbelieving, but believing.” 

 

And then, by God’s grace. By Jesus’ word…Thomas sees with the eyes of faith who Jesus really is.  “My Lord and my God.”

 

This is how our Lord deals with us too. Jesus doesn’t leave Thomas in his doubts. Neither will he leave you. Jesus takes your doubts and your fears and your shame and your bitterness and He makes them His own. And He takes His faith and His hope and His life and His joy and His glory and He makes them your own. He doesn’t always remove our outward troubles; but he does give us something better: his peace in his dying and rising for you.

 

Jesus’ peace in knowing that no matter how great our sin, Christ’s love for you is always greater.

 

Jesus’ peace in knowing that no matter how unfaithful we have been, Christ our Lord is always faithful to you and for you.

 

Jesus’ peace in knowing that although we often live with doubts and fears, blessed are you who have not seen, and yet believe. 

 

Jesus’ peace in knowing that you are blessed today and always in his dying and rising for you.

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon for The Resurrection of Our Lord: "Something New"

 + The Resurrection of Our Lord - April 9th, 2023 +

Series A: Acts 10:34-43; Colossians 3:1-4; Matthew 28:1-10

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 

 

Alleluia! Christ is Risen! 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

We often find ourselves longing for something new, only to be disappointed. That new truck is old the second your tire rolls into the street. That new iPhone is out of date the moment you turn it on and say, “Hey, Siri.” Imagine the joy of finding something that truly lasts, that is forever new. 

 

“Well, that sounds great, pastor, but we live in the real world where things break down, decay, and die.” That’s true. But that’s not the whole truth. 

 

Because today God’s new creation has broken into this old fallen world. Because today something enduring, eternal, and new has happened. A new day dawns. Christ is risen from the dead. 

 

And in Jesus’ death and resurrection you are redeemed and renewed; you are reconciled and restored. In Christ’s death and resurrection you are given something new. Jesus’ death for you. Jesus’ life for you. Jesus’ resurrection from the dead for you. A new day indeed! 

 

But for Mary and Mary it hardly felt like a new day. It was the day after the Sabbath day. The first day of the week. As morning broke, they walked to see Jesus’ tomb expecting nothing new.

 

And yet, something new had happened. The earth that trembled with sorrow at Jesus’ crucifixion shook with joy as an angel of the Lord descended to announce Jesus’ resurrection. The sky shrouded in darkness three days earlier was pierced by the blinding white light of the angel’s appearance. Roman guards had taunted and mocked Jesus as he hanged on the cross and died. The guards posted at his tomb, however, collapse in fear as though dead. The great stone that Joseph of Arimathea had rolled over the entrance of Jesus’ tomb was rolled aside by the angel. 

 

Normally, angels appear, and speak. Deliver their message. And off they go from sight. Not this angel. Not on this day. The angel rolled back the stone. And sat on it. A new day has begun. The day of our Lord’s victory over the grave. The day of our Lord’s triumph over Death. 

 

“Do not be afraid, for I know that you are seeking Jesus, who is crucified. He is not here, for he was raised, just as he said.”

 

For the women at the tomb, and for us, death is nothing new. We see it in the world. On the news. in our lives. Family members die. Friends die. Our brothers and sisters in Christ die. There’s nothing new about death. It’s as old as Adam and Eve’s sin in the Garden.

 

The women saw Jesus die. Saw him crucified in brutal, bloody, pain. Saw him taken down from the cross. Saw him wrapped in clothes. Saw him buried in the tomb, the very tomb they were standing by as the angel told them something new. Something new had happened for the women. For me. For you. Jesus, the one who was and is the crucified one, is also now the resurrected one. 

 

He is not here, for he was raised, just as he said. This good news of Jesus saving work redeems and restores, what reconciles and renews. Jesus’ death for you. Jesus’ resurrection for you. Jesus’ word and promise kept for you. Behold, I make all things new. The old has gone. The new has come. New life. New day. New creation. 

 

The women came to see the tomb. But now the angel shows them something completely different. Something beautiful and comforting and new all at once. “Come, see the place where he used to lie.”

 

Used to lie. But no longer. Come, see the place where Death has met its match. Come, see the place where your Redeemer took his Sabbath day rest to restore you. Come, see the place where Jesus broke the power of Death and Sin and opened the gate of new and everlasting life for you. Come, see the place where all the brokenness of your sin, your death, and the devil have been broken forever. Come, see the place where something new happened for you. 

 

“Do not be afraid, for I know that you are seeking Jesus, who is crucified. He is not here, for he was raised, just as he said.”

 

One promise kept. Jesus rose from the dead…just as he said. Now, the women go to see Jesus’ other promise kept. “Go quickly and tell his disciples: ‘He has risen from the dead and is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him.’ 

 

The women left the tomb. Filled with fear and great joy. They ran to tell the disciples. Something new has happened. But their sprint is interrupted.           Jesus met them. Jesus seeks them out. Comes to meet them. Our Lord does the same thing for you this Easter Sunday. Jesus meets you in his forgiving, renewing word. Jesus meets you in the regenerating waters of your Baptism. Jesus meets you at his table where he pours out his body and blood redeemed for you now in bread and wine to reconcile you. Come, see the place where he still lies for you.

 

Jesus met them. Jesus speaks. “Greetings!” Friendship. Love. Grace. Peace. Forgiveness. It's all wrapped up in that word, Greetings. 

 

The women respond in faith. They fell down. Grabbed his feet for dear life. They worshiped Jesus. Here Jesus is rightly worshiped for who he is and what he has done. God in human flesh. Crucified. Dead. Buried. Risen from the dead. 

 

They took hold of his feet. The feet that were cold and colorless the day before, the feet that once again are warm with blood flowing through them, there the women worship. And so do we. Where Jesus’ word, water, body and blood are, there you are at the feet of Jesus. There we come like the women at the tomb in humble, awe-filled joy, receiving all he did and won and gives to you. 

 

These are the feet of God and yet the feet of a man as well. Real feet. A real man. A real body. A physical resurrection from the dead. Not an illusion. Not a vision. Not a ghost or figment of the women’s imagination. Flesh and blood feet. Flesh and blood resurrection. Flesh and blood Jesus crucified and risen for you. Flesh and blood on the altar for you today.

 

How about that for something new! Jesus rose from the dead. And because he lives so do you. Because he rose from the dead, so will you on the Last Day a real, bodily, physical resurrection from the dead, a glorified, resurrected body - something truly new. Jesus’ tomb is empty, and one day, yours will be too. Jesus the Lamb is victorious over sin and death, and in him, so are you. 

“Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”

Jesus calls his disciples “my brothers.” His wayward disciples are Redeemed. restored. Reconciled. Renewed. And in Jesus crucified and risen so are you. You too are his brothers and sisters. Redeemed. Restored. A new creation in Jesus death and resurrection.

 

Jesus says to you today, what he said to the women on that first Easter. Do not be afraid! Not today. Not ever. For you have already died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. So, when Christ who is our life appears, you also will appear with Him in glory.

 

Today, let the Alleluias ring out for you are redeemed and restored, 

Today, rejoice for you are reconciled and renewed in Jesus crucified and risen.

Today, something new has happened.

 

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia!

 

A blessed Easter to each of you…

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

 

Sermon for Good Friday: "Psalm 22: Exile and Return"

 + Good Friday – April 7^th, 2023 +

Psalm 22

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

In his little book on the Psalms, Lutheran Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote about the psalms that “If we want to read and to pray the prayers of the Bible, and especially the Psalms…we must not ask first what they have to do with us, but what they have to do with Jesus Christ.” (Bonhoeffer, Psalms, p. 14)

 

That’s a good way to read any part and all of the Old Testament. A good way to read any and all of the Psalms. It’s especially true when we come to Psalm 22 on this Good Friday. Indeed, when you hear Psalm 22 you can’t help but think of Good Friday, of Jesus prayer and words from the psalms as he hangs on the cross, suffers in brutal agony for us, as he is lifted up, suspended between heaven and earth, he prays. God the Son cries out to God the Father and he does so with the words of Psalm 22 on his human and humble, yet holy lips.

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

 

Not once. Not twice. But three times Jesus the Messiah, cries out to God the Father that he is far from him. That is far from me. That he is far off. 

 

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?

 

This is the language of lament; the language of agony and torment; the language of exile. 

 

That’s what sin does. After sin comes the exile. The exile of guilt, of shame, of despair. The exile of death itself. Adam and Eve were sent out of Eden after the fall. Exiled. Old Testament Israel exiled themselves for times than you can count, forsaking God’s ways, God’s will, God’s word. Wandering in the wastelands because of their sin. God sent prophet after prophet to warn of the exile coming to the house of Israel on account of their idolatry. Egypt. Babylon. Assyria. Persia. Greece. Rome. Sin. Death. 

 

Are we any different? No. We are not. We are sons of Adam and daughters of Eve. We are children of the exile. Haven’t we all at some point prayed these words that Jesus prays…

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest.

 

When Jesus utters these haunting words he has poured out into one cry the lament of humanity from the foundation of the world. We may not admit it, but we’ve all prayed this prayer. Cried out to God feeling as if he is far away, as if he’s turned his back from us, or simply forgotten us. We fear that we are cut off. Forgotten. Forsaken. 

 

When Jesus prays Psalm 22 on the cross he prays a truly human prayer. His words remind us that Jesus is all humanity. He is all people. And all people are in him as well. He is our stand in. Our substitute. 

 

When Jesus prays this prayer he also prays it as our redeemer – sacrificing himself for us; and he is our mediator – placing his words, and his very own life between our sin and God’s judgment. 

 

Because of Good Friday, Jesus folds us into his cry and prayer. So that when we sit alone in the darkness of despair and doubt, Jesus folds us into his prayer. When we cradle our face in our palms and weep, we are folded into Jesus’ prayer. When we tremble and are overwhelmed by guilt and shame and are barely hanging on by a thread, we are folded into Jesus’ prayer. When we are angry, confused, or angry or at our wits end of the suffering of this life, we are folded into his cry from the cross.

 

For on the cross, Jesus goes into exile for us. Jesus goes into the exile of his death to bring us home to the Father in his resurrection. Because Jesus prayed, “Do not forsake me,” we know that God will hear us when we pray, But you, O Lord, do not be far off! O you my help, come quickly to my aid!

 

And he does. Our Father holds onto us with the unrelenting grip of his mercy. He won’t let us go. And how could he. If the Father loved us enough to send his only begotten Son to live, suffer, and die for us, will he let you go? Will he leave you? Forget you? Abandon? Or forsake you? No. He will not. Not yesterday. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. Not after Jesus His Son has shed his blood for you. Because of Good Friday you are never forsaken by God. Because of Jesus’ crucified and risen, you are never forsaken by God. 

 

After sin comes the exile. But after the exile comes the return. After the fall of Eden comes the promise of the new creation. After Egypt comes the Exodus. After Jesus’ defeat comes his victory, given and won for you.

After Jesus was forsaken on the cross, comes an everlasting welcome and homecoming for you who are never forsaken in him.

After Jesus’ death comes his glorious resurrection for you.

 

Psalm 22 begins on Good Friday atop the cross. But that’s not where it ends. The melody of 22 goes on until the wee hours of the morning on the third day on the first day of the week.

 

You have rescued^[c] me from the horns of the wild oxen!

²² I will tell of your name to my brothers;
    in the midst of the congregation I will praise you:
²³ You who fear the Lord, praise him!
    All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him,
    and stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!
²⁴ For he has not despised or abhorred
    the affliction of the afflicted,
and he has not hidden his face from him,
    but has heard, when he cried to him.

 

The Father heard the cry of his Son and answered him. He did not abandon him to Sheol or let his holy one see corruption. Jesus’ bleeding wounds become comforting resurrection scars. Jesus went into exile for you. Jesus rescued you from exile. Jesus ransomed you from slavery. Jesus hears your prayers, and answers them with his that one day all tears will be wiped away. All sorrow will be no more. All grief will be gone. And everlasting joy will be upon your heads.

 

For Jesus’ Good Friday cry of being forsaken becomes the announcement of the angels: “He is not here; he is risen.” 

 

A blessed Good Friday to each of you…

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Sermon for Maundy Thursday: "Psalm 143: Our Lord's Passover Psalm"

 + Maundy Thursday – April 6^th, 2023 +

Psalm 143

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

 

The heading at the beginning of Psalm 143 is brief. Simple. Straightforward. A Psalm of David.

When David cried out to the Lord for mercy.

When David despaired as enemies pursued him. Perhaps Saul. More likely when his own son, Absalom returned to hunt him down and usurp the throne.

When David was betrayed. Again, most likely by Absalom, his own son.

When David’s very life was in danger, and as if his very life was crushed into the ground.

That’s when David prayed.

 

Hear my prayer, O Lord;
    give ear to my pleas for mercy!
    In your faithfulness answer me, in your righteousness!
² Enter not into judgment with your servant,
    for no one living is righteous before you.

³ For the enemy has pursued my soul;
    he has crushed my life to the ground;
    he has made me sit in darkness like those long dead.
⁴ Therefore my spirit faints within me;
    my heart within me is appalled.

 

Psalm 143 isn’t usually paired with this day in Holy Week, Maundy Thursday. But the more you read this psalm with one ear towards the psalm and another ear towards all that Jesus did, and all that happened to him, on this Holy Thursday, the more Psalm 143 fits well with our Lord’s words and work on Maundy Thursday.

 

Psalm 143 is a Psalm of David. But it is also a Psalm of David’s Son and David’s Lord, the Son of David, Jesus Christ.

 

When Jesus was in the garden of Gethsemane, when he was hanging on the cross – he prayed. God the Son cried out to God the Father, in agony. For mercy. Yet not my will, but yours be done.

Like David, Jesus knew the pursuit of enemies. Pharisees. Scribes. Elders. Jesus knew what it meant to be hunted and hounded by his own people of his own flesh and blood.

Every Abel has his Cain; every Isaac, his Ishmael; every Jacob, his Esau; and Christ, his Judas who wars against his soul (Luther, vol. 14, p. 197).

Like David, Jesus was betrayed by one of his own, his disciple Judas.

 

As Jesus sat with his disciples celebrating the Passover, instituting the Lord’s Supper, Jesus knew that his very life was in mortal danger, soon to be crushed to the ground under the weight of the Father’s wrath, the judgment of our sin, the very darkness of the pit, like those long dead.

 

With all of that going on, Jesus sat down with his disciples. They reclined at table. They ate together as they had done so many times the past three years. Yet this day, this night, it was different. There’s a gravity to this night. A holiness. A somber, sobering, yet sacred night. A night of God’s grace and gifts.

 

On this night in which he was betrayed, our Lord Jesus…

took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” ²⁷ And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, ²⁸ for this is my blood of the^[c] covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins. 

 

As we ponder, pray, praise, and meditate on these words tonight. On Jesus’ gift to us in his body and blood. On his sacrifice on the cross. On his holy passion. Holy words. Holy body and blood. Psalm 143 gives voice and words to our prayers and songs and meditation.

 

Hear my prayer, O Lord;
    give ear to my pleas for mercy!
    In your faithfulness answer me, in your righteousness!
I stretch out my hands to you;
    my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. 

 

Tonight David’s prayer and Jesus’ prayer is our prayer. Tonight we cry to the Lord for mercy for our sin. And he answers you by stretching out his hand to give you his own flesh to eat and by filling a cup of mercy and giving you his holy, precious blood to drink. my soul thirsts for you like a parched land. And Jesus says to you, take; eat. Take; drink. My body. My blood. Given. Shed. Poured out. For you.

 

Tonight we are in despair for one reason or many. And our Lord Jesus answers your despair with his mighty deliverance.

 

Tonight we are pursued by enemies without – death, the devil, a fallen, wicked world – and we are hounded and hunted from within – our own sinful flesh. And our Lord Jesus pursues all your enemies by letting all our enemies pursue him instead. He is hunted, hounded, betrayed, beaten down, crushed, crucified, died, and buried. For you.

 

Tonight, we pray… 

 

Answer me quickly, O Lord!
    My spirit fails!
Hide not your face from me,
    lest I be like those who go down to the pit.
⁸ Let me hear in the morning of your steadfast love,
    for in you I trust.
Make me know the way I should go,
    for to you I lift up my soul.

⁹ Deliver me from my enemies, O Lord!
    I have fled to you for refuge.

 

Tonight we join David in crying out to Jesus, the Son of David, who answers us in his steadfast love at his table, in his word, on the cross, and out of the empty tomb again on Easter Sunday. For in his steadfast love, Christ has cut off all your enemies. Christ has destroyed your adversaries of death, sin, and Satan. For Christ is your servant, at the table, on the cross, and here, tonight. Given and shed for you for the forgiveness of all your sins.

 

A blessed Maundy Thursday to each of you…

 

In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.