Sermon for Pentecost 26: "It Ain't Easy"

 + 26th Sunday after Pentecost - November 17th, 2024 +

Series B: Daniel 12:1-3; Hebrews 10:11-25; Mark 13:1-13

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

One of my high school geography teacher’s, Mr. Brooks’ famous quotes, (and he had many of them since he was also the football coach), was … “Life isn’t easy; and whoever told you it was, lied.” How about that for some true, honest, tough love. 

 

C.S. Lewis said something similar when asked to write an essay on whether Christianity was easy or hard. “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy,” Lewis wrote. “I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.” (God in the Dock)

 

The Christian faith is many things: it’s true. Historical. A faith founded on the facts of Jesus’ death and resurrection. It’s beautiful, rich in meaning it’s comforting - which is different from making you comfortable in a broken world. It’s joyful, but not in the same way people usually think of - not the sugary, artificial, put on a happy face kind of joy - but a real, deep, abiding joy that knows no matter what the world, the devil, and your sinful flesh throw your way, Christ’s dying and rising for you is bigger than all that, and in the end he rescues and delivers you. Yes, Christianity - your Christian faith - is many things. The one thing it’s not…is easy. 

 

Until your dying breath the Christian life is a battle against your own sinful flesh. It’s a daily assault from a hostile world that seeks to redefine what God says is true, rejects his word and anyone who believes it as you do, and rebels against God’s goodness. It’s a constant campaign of terror and temptation and trials from the devil. He takes no days off. No holidays. No rest. 

 

So Jesus gives his disciples then, and us now, some true, honest, tough love followed by his promise. There are no easy days as living in these Last Days. Jesus doesn’t promise that life will be easy following him. But he does promise you this: I am with you. No one can snatch you out of my hands. Fear not. I’ve got you in my pierced, crucified and risen hands. I am your endurance. 

 

This is what’s happening in today’s Gospel reading. Jesus is readying his disciples for days of trial and suffering and upheaval that they were about to face in the world around them, beginning with the one place that was seen as the center of the Jewish world at the time, the temple in Jerusalem.

 

You have to laugh a little at the disciples’ lack of situational awareness. Jesus just finished teaching them about faith and trust in him, about his coming betrayal, death and resurrection, and his provision for all, even the widow who gave her last mite. And what are the disciples doing? Admiring the temple architecture. “Hey, Jesus, check out all these beautiful stones!”

 

If doing a facepalm was a thing back then, you can bet Jesus did that as his disciples talk. “Guys, listen up. You see those stones? They’re all coming down. Every. Last. One.” Talk about a buzz kill! 

 

Naturally, the disciples want to know when this is all going to go down. “Tell us when, Jesus. What are the signs, Jesus?”

 

Sounds like Jesus' words are ripped right from the headlines. See that no one leads you astray. Many will come in my name, saying, ‘I am he!’ and they will lead many astray. False teaching. False prophets. Wars and rumors of war. Earthquakes. Famines. Nations and kingdoms clashing. Jesus doesn’t promise his disciples then, or us now, that Christianity is easy. There are no easy days. But he does promise you will endure. He promises to be with you. He promises to deliver you.

 

These are but the beginning of the birth pains. Now, birth pains don’t sound like good news, but they are. It means a child is on the way. Joy is coming. In the midst of this fallen world, surrounded by temptations, trials, and at war with our sinful flesh on a daily basis - feeling so often like we’ve already lost - Jesus brings hope into the horrifying mess of this sinful world. 

 

Those birth pains Jesus talks about are the labor contractions of the new creation. The sufferings and groanings of this present time are the birth pangs of something new breaking in. The new creation. Life. Resurrection from the dead. While the devil, the world, and your flesh would have you despair or doubt, Jesus says, don’t fall for that old trick. I was crucified for you. I rose from the dead for you. I’ve conquered it all - your sin, your failures, your death - for you. You are new creation in Christ.

 

So, Jesus warns his disciples: “But be on your guard. For they will deliver you over to councils, and you will be beaten in synagogues, and you will stand before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them. And the gospel must first be proclaimed to all nations

 

Within 40 years, Jesus’ words in Mark 13 all come true. The temple was torn down in 70 A.D. The Romans swept into Jerusalem and tore the temple down one stone at a time to extract the gold lined in its walls. Then they reduced the city to rubble, so much so, that you couldn’t tell where the city was any longer, except for the Jewish bodies on crosses marking the perimeter of Jerusalem. 

 

Disciples are never above their master. They stood trial before religious authorities. Were hauled before kings and rulers. Were beaten, persecuted, and all but John were martyred in horrific ways. And yet through it all, Christ the King reigned, and still reigns.

 

It’s not all that different in our day as we continue to live in the Last Days. On October 20th, Christian churches in Beijing were raided, and members arrested. On All Saints’ Day, a radical Islamist mob killed a pastor, his wife, and two daughters in Uganda. On November 8th, police in Chhattisgarh, India, watched as hundreds burned the farms of 14 Christian farmers who were also brutally beaten.

 

Persecution may not be that dramatic here in our own country at the moment, but that doesn’t mean you’re without the cross. A friend, coworker or neighbor who mocks your faith or questions your beliefs. Maybe even your own family members have rejected the faith you raised them in. Jesus’ cross often divides people closest to home. Brother against brother, father against child, children against their parents. No doubt many of your families experience this division as well. “And you will be hated by all for my name’s sake.”

 

But take heart. The one who endures to the end will be saved. There’s rescue and relief at the end of the road. The sufferings of this present time, whatever they may be, do not compare with the glory that will be revealed on the day of Jesus’ coming. And yet in a way, the Last Day has already come.

 

On a good Friday, outside Jerusalem. In darkness at Noon. On a cross. When Jesus said, “It is finished.” That was the end of the world as we know it. Jesus embracing the world in His own body brings the world to its end in His death. He is the persecuted One. The Martyr of all martyrs. The Lord of lords. The King of kings. He endured to the end. And in the end, He saved the world, and you. Baptized into Him, you have died to this dead world, and now live to God in Christ. For you, the end came in the water of Baptism with the Name. You died. And your life is now hidden with Christ in God.

 

Jesus doesn’t promise his disciples then, or you now, today, that your life in Christ will be easy. But he does promise you will endure. For your endurance isn’t on you or in your hands. Your endurance is in Jesus. Your endurance is Jesus. He who gave up his last dying breath to save you, promises to be with you until your dying breath…and then to breathe new life into your body and raise you from the dead just as he rose on the third day. 

 

When life seems full of trials, temptations, and terror all around, the answer isn’t found in our life. Jesus is your endurance. Now and forever. 

 

Life may not always be easy. But take heart; Jesus will endure you to the end. 

 

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

 

 

Sermon for All Saints' Day: "A Saintly Story"

 + All Saints’ Day (observed) – November 3^rd, 2024 +

Revelation 7:9-17; 1 John 3:1-3; Matthew 5:1-12

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Ask any parent – “how did you pick a name for your child?” and there’s always a story that goes with it. That story might be that they simply liked the name, or a longer story about a family name passed down through generations. Either way, a name always comes with a story.

 

The same is true in the Scriptures. The names of the people we hear in those stories often tell us something important about the far greater story of God’s salvation that he works through them. There’s Adam, whose name tells us the story of his creation out of dust and dirt and points us to the time in the story of God’s salvation when God himself would breathe through human lungs and walk in human feet. There’s the name of Eve whose name tells us the story of God’s gift of life – the mother of all living Scripture calls her. A wink and a nod to the one who would be born of a woman and bring life to all. There’s Abram whose name was changed to Abraham that God would foretell the story of salvation in the promised Seed from his family tree that would bless all nations. There’s Isaac, whose name means laughter, and whose name tells us the story of God working joy and new birth in the most unlikely and unexpected places – an old barren womb – just as he will later work salvation out of an empty, barren tomb to our joy and eternal laughter.

A name always comes with a story

 

So it is on All Saints’ Day. We remember many names today. Those our Lord called through death to life in this past year, and those faithful departed who have died in the faith in the years past. We list the names: Mark Zurschmied.      Natalie Walta.           Chuck Lundin.          Marilyn Bauer.

 

Each of these names come with a story as well. The story of a father and husband always ready with a helping hand. The story of an artist, mother, pastor’s wife, and grandma who painted everything she did with the love of Jesus. The story of a man who lived like his favorite character “George Bailey” – in sacrifice and love for others. The story of a teacher, beloved friend, a sister in Christ, and always a fancy dresser – even when I showed up for shut-in visits. Their names and lives tell the story of God’s mercy, and God’s gift of faith, and God’s calling them out of this the tribulation of this life into the life of the world to come.

 

No doubt you have many stories of your own. Some are about these dear saints who have died this past year. And others are about those you remember who have died in years past. Names and stories…unique each in their own way. And yet alike in the most important way…in reminding us that their names and stories are only part of the story of All Saints’ Day. Our story and theirs is one of new identity. A new name. A new story. A saintly story of outrageous forgiveness for undeserving sinners – given in the name above all names, Jesus.

 

Now, it’s easy to hear that word “saintly” – or the word Jesus uses in the beatitudes in Matthew 5, “blessed” -and think it’s something it isn’t; to come to the conclusion that this is somehow on you, or up to you, or about you. But it’s not. Saints aren’t people who have everything in life perfectly together. Saints aren’t those who have no sin (there’s only one man who can claim that!) Saints aren’t people who live a perfectly upright life. Saints are justified sinners. Saints are those who are poor in spirit, who stake no claim on God’s goodness but rejoice in his free grace. Saints are those who live in faith in the name and story of salvation in Jesus. 

 

Think of All Saints’ Day like the entrance to a grand party, where upon entrance, you’re given a name tag. Who are you? Who are those who have gone before us? Sinners declared saints in the blood of Jesus. Beggars who are blessed by God’s grace. Lost who are found. Dead who are brought to life. John says it this way in the epistle reading today: Behold what manner of love the Father has given unto us, that we should be called the children of God. For that is who you are.

 

That’s the name on our nametag on All Saints’ Day, and every day: the name of Jesus. You belong to him. You’re his dear, beloved, blessed, baptized children. His saints. Whose names are written in the book of life, signed and sealed in the blood of the Lamb. 

 

“Who are these, clothed in white robes, and from where have they come?” “These are the ones coming out of the great tribulation. They have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

 

That’s good news for us as we sit here today on this All Saints’ Day, our minds full of different stories we hear in the world around us. A contentious election coming up this week. An uncertain ec0onomy. A country divided and anxious. Life in this world is often a story full of hurts and hurricanes and hospital visits. Our lives are often full of disease, disappointments, and tragic deaths. Stories of trials, temptations given into and temptations faced in agony, and tribulations a plenty. Stories of guilt, sorrow, suffering, and shame. The saints who have gone before us were no strangers to all of this, and neither are we. And yet, All Saints’ Day is a reminder that as dark and as long as tribulation is in this life, it’s only for a while. Life with the Lamb is forever. Stories of death and sadness and suffering may seem to dominate the headlines today, but not forever. 

 

On All Saints’ Day, we read the names and remember the stories of the saints who have gone before us because Jesus died and rose for them and for you.

 

On All Saints’ Day we look forward to what we confess every Sunday in the Creed: the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting, because Jesus died and rose for them and for you. And this is not only a resurrection in a general sense. Yes, everyone will rise from the dead. But today we’re reminded that this is personal. Mark and Natalie and Chuck and Marilyn will rise from their graves. So will each of you. 

 

With the name of Jesus comes a story of good news for you. It’s all there in his name, Jesus, the Lord Saves. He has done it. He still does it. And he will do it when he returns in glory. 

And in the meantime, as our daily lives and stories go on from one page to the next, God reigns and rules over all. He is the one who brings you into the Kingdom of Heaven. He comforts. He grants the inheritance of earth. He satisfies those who are thirsting and hungering. He offers mercy. He reveals who He is for people to see. He claims people as His children. He honors those who are persecuted. 

 

So, no matter what happens today, tomorrow, or Tuesday, you can be sure of this: the Lamb is on the throne. In Jesus, you’re given a new name: saint. And in Jesus your story has a new and eternally happy ending. No matter what twists and turns our stories in this life take, we know how our story ends. 

 

It ends the way John tells saw it and tells us in Revelation. Who are these who are clothed in white robes and from where have they come? You know their names: Mark, Natalie, Chuck, Marilyn…Your name is there too. For you have washed your robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.

¹⁵ “Therefore you are before the throne of God,
    and serve him day and night in his temple;
    and he who sits on the throne will shelter you with his presence.
¹⁶ you shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore;
    the sun shall not strike you,
    nor any scorching heat.
¹⁷ For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be your shepherd,
    and he will guide you to springs of living water,
and God will wipe away every tear from your eyes.”

 

A blessed All Saints’ Day to each of you in…

 

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

 

Sermon for Reformation Sunday: "Outpost of Heaven"

 + Festival of the Reformation (observed) – October 27^th, 2024 +

Revelation 14:6-7; Romans 3:19-28; Matthew 11:12-19

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

If I asked you to draw a picture of the Church what would you draw? A towering gothic cathedral? A small wooden country church? Perhaps a beautiful A-frame design?

 

Maybe you take out your hands and say the old rhyme: here’s the church, look at the steeple, open the doors and see all the people.

 

These are all good images, each communicating something important about the Church. But the image that comes to mind when I read this Matthew text was an army outpost, or a Forward Operating Base – maybe something in the Kerengal Valley or Helmand Province of Afghanistan. 

 

There’s a reason our church theologians call our life in this world as Christians living in the church militant. From the moment those baptismal words and water hit your ears and are poured upon your forehead – from the moment God works faith in your hearts by his Spirit – we are on the front lines and in the fox hole and surrounded by enemies. Death. Sin. Satan – don’t abide by peace treaties. There’s no cease fire. No pity. No mercy. No quarter.  Not a day goes by where we’re left without a reminder that we live behind enemy lines.

 

That’s the image of the Church Jesus gives us in Matthew 11 this morning, an outpost of heaven on earth, an embassy of God’s grace and forgiveness in a world of sin and death, an outpost of peace in a world of violence: From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and violent men try to take it by force. 

 

Jesus’ words – about the words and work of John the Baptist – remind us that when Christ builds his church, he doesn’t put it in the green zone. He doesn’t build it far away from the front lines or deep in a doomsday bunker. Out of touch. Out of sight. Out of the battle. No. He builds it right up against the gates of hell, and throws us into a daily combat. 

 

John knew this battle well. In his day, the kingdom of heaven he preached suffered violence at the hands of Herod and Herodias’ daughter. Herod’s violent men and one particularly violent young woman – tried to take the kingdom of heaven by force by silencing the prophet. But even though they succeeded in removing his head they could not stop John’s preaching because his preaching was not of Herod’s kingdom, but Christ’s. and no matter how much violence the kingdoms of this world throw at Christ’s Church, his kingdom always prevails. 

 

John may have thought he was alone in Herod’s dungeon. But he wasn’t. Jesus reminds him of that. He is the Messiah whose way John prepared. Not only that, the Scripture is full of patriarchs and prophets who witnessed the kingdom of God suffer violence.

In the days of Adam and Eve, the kingdom of heaven suffered violence as God’s creatures committed treason against their Creator. In the days of Noah, the kingdom of heaven suffered violence as the whole earth lived in rebellion, where every thought of the heart was only evil continually. 

In the days of the Exodus, the kingdom of heaven suffered violence, as God’s people were enslaved under Pharaoh, and later enslaved in the wilderness in their own idolatry. In the days of the Judges the kingdom of heaven suffered violence because everyone did what was right in their own eyes. In the days of the prophets, the kingdom of heaven suffered violence as God’s people rejected his word and his ways and his promises again and again and again.

 

And on this Reformation Sunday, we’re reminded that in Luther’s day the kingdom of heaven suffered violence as well. In January of 1521, Luther was excommunicated. Named an enemy of the state and church. Later he was kidnapped for his protection and taken to Wartburg castle for a time…all for preaching against indulgences. And for preaching that the kingdom of heaven comes not by works and self-righteousness, but by the righteousness freely given by Christ’s death, and by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone. Luther spent the rest of his life under the threat of death. The kingdom of heaven suffers violence and the violent try to take it by force. Violence always comes to those who hold the Gospel, and cling to the good news of Jesus justifying sinners. 

 

That’s how you can always find the church…look for blood. Blood of the patriarchs, prophets, and apostles. The blood of the martyrs. And above all, the blood of Jesus who builds his church on his dying and rising and promises that even the gates of hell cannot withstand when Christ our Captain leads the charge against Sin, Death, and Satan.

 

Here we are, a little over 500 years after the days of Luther and the Reformation we celebrate today. And still the kingdom of heaven suffers violence and violent men try and take it by force. The kingdom of heaven here on earth has suffered the violence of communism and fascism and tyrants – yet still she survives. The kingdom of heaven suffers the violence of persecution and mockery – yet she cannot be snuffed out. The kingdom of heaven suffers violence from those who trade the Gospel of Christ crucified for sinners for a political or social justice platform. 

 

To our eyes – and the eyes of many in the world – it might seem as though the church is dying. Experts and researchers will quote all kinds of data and statistics to that effect. And yet, says G.K. Chesterton, this is nothing new. Christianity has died many times…and risen again, for we have a God who knows his way out of the grave.

 

The church suffers violence for the same reason John and the prophets and apostles and Luther did. Because of our Lord and King and Bridegroom of the Church, Jesus. Because of the gospel that is proclaimed – “For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law.” 

The kingdom of heaven suffers violence. It was true in the Old Testament. It was true in Luther’s day. It’s true in our day. And it was true in Jesus’ day too. 

 

Jesus – the Kingdom of heaven in human flesh – suffered violence as well. Hunted by Herod as a child. Assaulted by Satan in the wilderness. Hounded and plotted against by the Pharisees throughout his ministry. And finally betrayed by his own. Violent men took him by force. Arrested. Falsely accused. Mocked. Beaten. Bruised. Bloodied. And Scourged. Finally, he was hoisted up on a cursed, shameful, tree to suffer the violence of our sin and God’s wrath and death itself. 

 

And yet in that violent sacrifice comes peace. Not the absence of war and violence in this life, but the peace that brings Christ present in our sufferings. Out of that war on the cross comes eternal victory for you. Out of Jesus’ death his life is given to you. Out of his rejection comes your redemption and rescue. Out of his bearing the punishment of the Law for us, comes our free and gracious justification.

 

Whenever the violence of this world, whenever the sufferings of this life appear as if they will remove you from his hands, rest assured that you are kept safe in the hands of him who suffered violence for you on the cross and rose in victory three days later; and no matter how violently the Sin and Satan rage against you, you are safe in the wounds and hands of Jesus, and no one can snatch you out of his hands.

 

Though devils all the world should fill,
all eager to devour us,
we tremble not, we fear no ill:
they shall not overpow'r us.
This world's prince may still
scowl fierce as he will,
he can harm us none.
He's judged; the deed is done;
one little word can fell him.

 

The Word they still shall let remain
nor any thanks have for it;
he's by our side upon the plain
with his good gifts and Spirit.
And take they our life,
goods, fame, child, and wife,
though all may be gone,
our victory is won;
the kingdom's ours forever!

 

 

A blessed festival of the Reformation to each of you…

 

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

 

Sermon for Pentecost 22: "Impossible"

 + 22^nd Sunday after Pentecost – October 20^th, 2024 +

Series B: Ecclesiastes 5:10-20; Hebrews 4:1-16; Mark 10:23-31

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Abraham and Sarah were in their 90s when God made this promise that he would return a year later and bless them with a child. The birth of a child sounded impossible. And yet, God did the impossible: Isaac was born.

 

The people of Israel had fled Egypt only to be stuck between the Red Sea in front of them and Pharaoh’s army coming in hot behind them. Rescue seemed impossible. And yet again, God did the impossible. He parted the waters. And Israel walked through the sea on dry ground.

 

Many centuries later, an angel appeared to a humble Virgin from the tribe of Judah, named Mary, and told her she would be the mother of God. How can this be? It sounds impossible. And yet, as he does throughout the story of the Scriptures, God does what seems impossible to us. He takes on flesh. He’s born of a Virgin. He comes to rescue and save us from what looks to be yet another impossible situation. Trapped in sin and death with no hope of rescue. And yet…

 

With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God. 

 

Today’s Gospel reading is yet another case of God doing something which to our eyes – and the disciples’ eyes – looks to be entirely impossible. 

 

Following right on the heels of last week’s story of the rich young ruler, Jesus takes his disciples aside and says, “Children, how difficult it is to enter the kingdom of God” Jesus declares. 

 

It seems like Jesus is telling us that getting into the kingdom of God is more than difficult. It’s impossible. That it’s going to take a miracle.

 

That’s exactly Jesus’ point. It takes a miracle to get a rich man into the kingdom of God. It takes a miracle to get anyone into the kingdom of God. It takes a miracle to get you and me into the kingdom of God. And if all that sounds a bit strange to our ears, we’re not alone. 

 

Jesus looked around and said to His disciples, “How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!” And the disciples were astonished at His words.

 

Remember the rich man in last Sunday’s Gospel reading? “What must I do to inherit eternal life”, he asked Jesus. After a short catechism review of the second table of the Law - all the commandments pointing us to our neighbor – Jesus fired a first table of the Law homing missile right at the rich man’s heart. “Go and sell all you have and give to the poor.” And he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.

 

The disciples are astonished. If anyone is blessed by God, it’s this guy. The disciples are measuring God’s grace by the gold standard. It was a common thought in Jesus’ day as it still is in ours. The greater your wealth is, the more favorably God looks upon you. The more stuff you have, the more God must love you. 

 

We hear the same false Gospel from prosperity preachers today: “If you have favor with God, God will favor you with success; that Tacoma Dome traffic will part for you like the Red Sea; your IRAs and 401ks will be busting at the seems like the disciples’ nets on the sea of Galilee.”

 

No wonder the disciples were exceedingly astonished. Jesus is turning their entire way of thinking upside down. The guy who seems to have it all walks away from Jesus sorrowful. “Jesus, if a camel has a better chance of making it through the eye of a needle than that rich, moral, pious man – what hope is there for any of us? Who can be saved? It’s impossible!”

 

Indeed, with man it is impossible. We cannot save ourselves. Our wealth and possessions and stuff – good gifts though they are - won’t save us. The Beatles were right: money can’t buy us love. With man, the stuff we own quickly owns us. With man, we focus on the gift and ignore the Giver of all things. Within man, we turn God’s gifts into idols. With man, it’s impossible. 

 

The rich man’s problem. The disciples’ problem. Our problem. It’s all the same. Whether we have a lot of earthly stuff or a little, we all have the same problem: Sin. And it goes deeper the stuff itself…it’s the love of ourselves and our stuff above God – all sin brings us back to the first commandment. With man it is impossible. 

 

The real miracle isn’t that we would sell our stuff; it’s God’s gift of faith. That’s the real miracle. Faith in Jesus Crucified. For I believe that I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to Him. It takes a miracle to get us into the kingdom of God. It took Jesus becoming man for us. It took Jesus becoming our sin for us on the cross. It took God Himself dying on the cross to pull us through the needle’s eye into the kingdom of God.

 

In God’s kingdom, his grace and favor isn’t measured by who has the most possessions, but in Christ who though he was rich yet for our sakes became poor, so that we, by his poverty might be made rich. In God’s Kingdom there is only one transaction that saves us: Jesus who knew no sin became sin for us. In God’s Kingdom, the true and only Rich Man joined us in our weakness and lostness to thread us through the narrow door of the cross. Jesus became the man of sorrows for us. Jesus took the last place on the cross to give us the first place at His table. If Jesus can rise from the dead, then a camel can go through the eye of needle, a rich man can find a place in the reign of God, you and I can be forgiven.

With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God. Indeed, believing any of this is impossible for us. But not for God. He specializes in doing the impossible. He gives us faith. He works the miracle. The very same miracle the Holy Spirit worked in you on the day of your Baptism, and every day since. The Holy Spirit continues to work this miracle of faith in us as he calls us by the Gospel, enlightens us with his gifts, sanctifies and keeps us in the true faith. 

 

That’s all well and good we say. Eternal life is covered. Faith is a gift. I’m forgiven. But what about now? Today? We left everything and followed you,” Peter said.

 

Truly I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or lands, for my sake and for the gospel, who will not receive a hundredfold now in this time – houses, brothers and sisters and mothers and children and lands – with persecutions, and in the age to come eternal life.

 

Really? A hundred times more than what we have now? That sounds just as impossible to believe as a camel going trotting through the eye of a needle. And yet, it’s true.

 

Believe it. Today. Whether you live in a one-bedroom apartment or a large home with plenty of land, you have 100 times more than the rich man who thinks the stuff of this world is all there is. Knowing that all we have is a gift from God gives us infinitely more than the Bill Gates, Jeff Bezos, or Elon Musks of the world. Knowing that all we have – our daily bread and possessions – are blessings from God, gifts that flow from Jesus’ death on the cross, makes all our earthly things worth more than all the billionaires combined. As Solomon writes, whatever wealth and earthly possessions we have are gifts from God. Gifts to enjoy and gifts to use in love for others. 

 

On our own, that’s impossible to believe. But not with God. All things are possible with God. God’s free gift of salvation for you. God’s countless gifts of daily bread given to you. 

 

God specializes in making the impossible possible for us in Jesus crucified. He does it every Sunday. Every Baptism. Every absolution we hear. Every “I forgive you” that’s announced. Every crumb of bread and drop of wine that gives us Jesus’ body and blood for our forgiveness, God is doing the impossible for you. With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.

 

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

 

 

 

 

Sermon for Pentecost 21: "Not By Doing, But By Dying"

 + 21^st Sunday after Pentecost – October 13^th, 2024 +

Series B: Amos 5:6-7, 10-15; Hebrews 7:12-19; Mark 10:17-22

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

When God called Abram to leave his home country and go to a new land where the Lord was leading him, was it because he was so rich, famous, and powerful that God called him? No. It was all by God’s grace. 

 

When God promised Abraham to give him land, blessings, and the promise that through his offspring, the promised Seed of the Messiah, would come, was this a reward for good behavior, or a bonus package God gave him for a job well done? No, it was an inheritance. A gift. 

 

When God gave his promise to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, to bless their families and through their offspring to bring about a blessing for all nations, was it because of something they had done or were going to do? No. It was an inheritance. A gift. As Paul says in Galatians, For if the inheritance comes by the law, it no longer comes by promise; but God gave it to Abraham by a promise.

 

When God gave his people Israel the land he promised to lead them into was it because of their strength, might, and upright moral behavior? No. The land, the promises. It was all an inheritance. It was all gift. 

 

In the story of the Scriptures, there’s nothing you can do to win your inheritance; inheritance is something God does for you. Inheritance comes not by doing, but by ultimately, by dying. 

 

Shocking as that may sound. That’s where Jesus – in his love – was leading this rich young man. Leading him to the death of his pride. The death of his self-worth and self-righteousness. The death of his grip on wealth and possessions. The death all his sin that stood in the way of believing in Jesus so that Jesus could give him the one thing he lacked, himself. 

 

And it’s a question about inheritance is what kicks off the whole conversation. A man who had it all – youth, wealth, and power – falls down at Jesus’ feet – a posture of worship - and says, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

 

Remember, how do you get an inheritance? In the biblical view of things it happens not by doing, but by dying. Someone dies and leaves you the inheritance. It’s entirely up to the gracious will of the one who put you into their will. You may think you deserve it or you may not, but in the end it’s not up to you. It’s the will of the one who dies who gives you the inheritance. 

 

The rich young man is stuck on doing, not dying, though. And since doing is a question of the Law, Jesus answers his Law question with a Law answer. You know the commandments: ‘Do not murder, Do not commit adultery, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Do not defraud, Honor your father and mother.’”

 

Notice how Jesus starts with what we call the second table of the Law. The commandments that deal with others around us – our neighbor. 

 

And this is all part of Jesus’ plan to lead this man to lead him to the heart of the issue, to what he really lacked, and ultimately, Jesus is leading this man to his death – the death of his idols.

 

Teacher, all these I have kept from my youth. Jesus doesn’t argue the point or fact check his commandment keeping. Sure, outwardly he probably has done many of the things these commandments require. But Jesus wants to take a deeper dive into the man’s heart and the heart of all the commandments, which is always the first commandment.

 

So Jesus, looking at him, loved him. Don’t skip over that little verse. It’s key to the whole conversation. Jesus loves the man enough to not want him die in his sin, but rather that he would die to sin and live in faith and trust in Jesus.

 

So Jesus, looking at him says this in love and out of love for the rich young man: You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” 

 

Jesus loved this young man. He wanted to give him the one thing he lacked. What he lacked was not poverty or humility. What he lacked was Jesus. What got in the way was his wealth and his power. He thought inheritance with God worked the way it sometimes does in the world – by doing. Not so, says Jesus. Inheritance comes by dying. 

 

Come. Follow me through death and resurrection, trust in Me and what I am doing for you, join me in my death and I will give you eternal life.

 

Jesus goes to the heart of this man’s sin because it’s from out of the heart that all our sinfulness flows. This is why all the commandments lead us back – like Jesus lead this man back – to the first commandment. We should fear, love, and trust in God above all things. Luther saw this so clearly in his catechism. All commandments begin in the heart. All sin is at its heart idolatry. And idolatry is diagnosed by what we fear the most, love the most, trust the most. Who or what do we turn to in times of trouble? Where are treasure is, there our hearts are also. And all of this – all of our sin, our trusting in ourselves, all the looking at our doing, all our lust and greed and selfishness and striving to do it all on our own – it all has to die. 

 

Remember, that’s how inheritance comes. Not by doing. But by dying. 

 

“What must you do?” You must do nothing. You must become nothing. You must let go of all that you have, your efforts and striving, your pride and self-sufficiency, and rely on Christ alone.

Like the rich young man, we must die. Die to sin. Die to our pride. Die to whatever it is that we fear, love, and trust in above God. 

 

And there, in our death of sin – where all we have to hold onto is the death of Jesus – in his dying and rising for you – there’s your inheritance. There’s the promise. There’s God’s grace for outrageous sinners like us. There’s God’s gift of mercy and love and compassion for all the times we think we’ve kept the commandments, but really haven’t. There is our Good and gracious God in the flesh, taking our heart of idols and replacing it with an eternal inheritance. There is the Good Teacher who is also our Gracious Redeemer, who though he was rich but for our sakes became poor. Who gave up all that He had as the Son of the Father. Who divested Himself of His honor, His glory, His power and became a servant who suffered, and in humility became obedient to His own Law and died in poverty on a cross so that by His poverty and death we might become rich, heirs of eternal life.

 

And that’s who you are. You are heirs, not by doing, but by Jesus’ dying for you. Not as a reward, but a righteous, gracious gift when you were washed and baptized into God’s family and adopted by his grace, and joined to Jesus in baptismal faith in his dying and rising for you. That’s how your inheritance comes, by Jesus’ doing, and his dying for you. 

 

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

 

Sermon for Pentecost 20: "The God of the Broken"

 + 20^th Sunday after Pentecost – October 6^th, 2024 +

Series B: Genesis 2:18-25; Hebrews 2:1-13; Mark 10:2-16

Beautiful Savior Lutheran Church

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Only three chapters into the story of the Scriptures and we discover a sad and tragic truth: what God calls and declares good is twisted, turned, bent, and broken by sin. This is what sin does; it breaks everything it touches.

 

Scripture reveals that sin is like King Midas’ golden touch; only instead of gold, sin breaks into God’s creation and spreads guilt and shame and sorrow and hurt and despair and death all over. Sin breaks everything it touches. 

 

The Serpent – as we heard last week – broke faith with his creator and fell from heaven only to bring his brokenness and corruption into God’s good creation. Adam and Eve’s perfect relationship with God the Father and Creator – broken in guilt and shame. Adam and Eve’s perfect relationship with one another – broken by blame and sin and death. Adam and Eve’s children – broken as brother murdered brother. 

 

We see the brokenness of sin on full display in today’s Gospel reading as well. Some pharisees came to Jesus not to help families in their synagogues wrestling with marriage difficulties, not to bring comfort to someone who was hurting or ashamed from a divorce. They came to Jesus not out of genuine concern for God’s gift of marriage but to play a game and entrap Jesus.

 

 some Pharisees came up to Jesus, testing Him, and began questioning Him whether it was lawful for a man to divorce his wife. 

 

They tried drawing Jesus into a popular rabbinic debate of the day. One school was extremely strict on divorce law, the other was quite lenient – to the point of allowing for divorce for the wife’s cooking displeasing to her husband. The pharisees hoped that whichever side Jesus chose, the opposition would reject him. 

 

Again, this is what sin does. It breaks and twists and upends everything it touches. It was Sin that dulled Adam’s joy when he first laid eyes on Eve and said, “Finally – bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh!” It’s Sin that takes the joy of the wedding day and turns it into a drudgery and weariness so that religious people – like the pharisees in Mark 10 - can come up to Jesus looking for a reason to divorce their wives. It’s Sin at work in our old Adam who turned his back on his bride and left her alone and isolated, who pointed the accusing finger and blamed her for his own sin.

 

Jesus doesn’t fall for the trap. In good rabbinic tradition, he answers their question with a question. “What did Moses command you?” ⁴ They said, “Moses permitted a man to write a ^[b]certificate of divorce and ^[c]send his wife away.” ⁵ But Jesus said to them, “^[d]Because of your hardness of heart he wrote you this commandment. 

 

Because Sin breaks everything it touches. Sadly. Tragically. Painfully. God’s gift of marriage is no different. Yes, Moses made concessions for divorce. After Genesis 3, divorce may be tragically needful, it may be inevitable; it may not be possible even for two baptized children of God to put marital Humpty Dumpty back together again. And yet we know this isn’t how it always was. It’s not how it’s supposed to be. 

 

Genesis 2 gives us God’s good design for marriage. His will and plan are simple. Beautiful. Joyful. Complimentary. Meant for building a family. Building a home together. One man. One woman. One flesh. That’s how it supposed to work. 

 

And yet we also know that we live not in Genesis 2, but in the world of Genesis 3, where sin breaks everything it touches. In our homes. Our relationships. Our marriages. Those of our own family and friends as well. This is why Jesus takes his hearers back to Genesis 2 to show them that divorce wasn’t part of God’s plan. And whenever it happens, whenever Sin breaks into God’s gift, it’s a heart-wrenching, life-altering, painful, hurtful, sorrowful thing. anyone who has experienced a divorce can tell you; it’s always a painful story.

 

Because Sin breaks everything it touches. And yet, what does God do with broken things? Broken people? Broken lives and marriages? Does he do what we do when things are broken beyond repair? Sweep it all up, toss it in the garbage, and throw it out? No. That’s not God’s way of doing things. God is the God of broken things, broken people, broken lives, and yes, broken marriages. God is the God who is there to rescue Sinners broken by Sin and everything it touches. 

 

Because when we’re honest, all our lives are broken in one way or another – by our sin, by others’ sin, by Sin itself. And this is why Jesus came. He came to enter the painful story of our lives with all its failings and falling short. With all our hurt and pain and sorrow. With all our guilt and shame and brokenness. He came to take it all on himself. 

 

Truth is, there’s only one perfect marriage union in history. The true love story of Christ our Bridegroom who came to save us, his wayward bride…and calls us his beloved. No matter how badly sin has hurt us, or we’ve hurt others in our sin. No matter how deep our pain and sorrow go. No matter how ashamed or guilty we feel, the love of God always goes deeper. Always covers our shame in his blood. Always bears our guilt in our place. God’s love for you in Jesus never fails or falls apart.

 

For those of you who have gone through a divorce and wondered, “what about my brokenness? What does God have to say about that?” He has a word of good news for you. Jesus came to take your pain and sorrow and make it his own. Jesus came to bleed and suffer and die and bear all your brokenness in himself on the cross. 

 

If you’ve gone through the pain of divorce, know that God’s gift of forgiveness in Jesus is bigger and greater and covers all the brokenness of sin. And God’s forgiveness is bigger and deeper than all the sin caused by others too. And if you’re struggling in your marriage or relationships, this is the place where you can pray and hear God’s word of forgiveness as you wrestle at forgiving one another. This is the place where brothers and sisters in Christ are called to care for you. Pray with you. Listen to you. be there to bear your burdens with you. Consider it an open invitation that my ear and time are always here for you to hear how Sin has broken into your life so you can hear how Jesus has died to forgive you. How he loves you. How he cares for you. And how his cross is bigger than all the brokenness caused by Sin. And if your marriage is going well – thank and praise the Lord. God has given you a great gift and blessing, and an opportunity to be a good example for others.

 

No matter what our marital status is, no matter how good or how messy our earthly relationships are, the good news is that the Sin which breaks everything it touches has been forgiven, covered in the blood of Jesus, and washed away in his mercy. Christ, our Bridegroom pledges to you his eternal faithfulness. 

 

Jesus is our heavenly Bridegroom and in this holy union, Christ binds up the wounds of we who are broken by sin. We are his beloved, baptized, holy Bride. He unites Himself to us by water, Word, and the Spirit. He joins us in our humanity as our Bridegroom and Brother. He gathers us together in a holy communion, as we receive His Body and Blood. 

 

Jesus our Bridegroom is bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh. And if Eve was taken out of Adam’s side and given new life, how much more are we, Jesus’ beloved Bride, taken from the side of Jesus who was pierced for us on the cross. Strangely as it may sound, one of the most common words for forgiveness in the NT is the word divorce. That’s what Jesus did on the cross for you. Jesus divorced us from our sin. So that nothing can separate you from the love of God which is yours in Christ Jesus. And today and always he gives you his solemn vow to take you as His beloved bride, to make you holy, pure and spotless; to have and to hold you for all eternity. 

 

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