Tuesday, October 16, 2018

Sermon for Pentecost 21: "The Greatest Possession"





+ 21st Sunday after Pentecost - Oct 14, 2018 +

Beautiful Savior Lutheran, Milton

Series B, proper 23: Amos 5:6-15; Hebrews 3:12-19; Mark 10:17-22

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

We’ve all had that frantic feeling. Searching. Turning couch cushions upside down. Tossing papers like confetti. Crawling around on our hands and knees. And finally, there it is. Right in front of us the whole time. How did I ever miss it?

That’s where we find this rich young man in today’s Gospel reading. He was missing something too. Only you wouldn’t think it from looking at him. He had the trifecta. Everything society tells us we need to be happy. Health. Wealth. Power. He had it all.

“Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

Kind of an odd question if you think about it. After all, Inheritance is pure gift. Someone dies and names you as an heir. Not by doing but by receiving. Not by works but by grace.

And yet, that’s precisely the default religious setting of our sinful flesh. We love checklists, dos, and don’ts. Scorekeeping, accounting, measuring, and comparing with others. What must I do, think, decide, say, or feel to inherit eternal life? This do-it-yourself religion is at the heart of every world religion, except Christianity. Christianity is the opposite. God’s grace is received, not achieved. It’s given, not earned. Gift. Grace. Christianity is outrageous forgiveness for undeserving sinners.

Yes, this young man had it all. But none of it was enough to satisfy that nagging feeling that something was missing in his life.

Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?

In response, Jesus gives him a quick catechism review. 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.

Teacher, all these I have kept since my youth.

And how does Jesus answer that? I know how I would’ve responded. Huh, yeah right. Kept the commandments? Sorry, Wrong answer. Try again. There’s no way you’ve done any of those things, let alone perfectly. That’s what God’s Law does. It accuses us. Kills us. No matter how much we’ve done, it’s never enough.

But Jesus isn’t interested in diagnosing the symptoms. He goes to the root cause of the disease. And notice how Jesus does it: looking on him, he loved him...

Jesus doesn’t love him because he kept the commandments. Jesus’ love isn’t a transaction. Jesus’ love is a gift. God shows his love for us in this, that while we were still self-centered, scorekeeping sinners, Christ died for us.

So, Jesus spoke in love to kill the gods of riches and religion that he clung so dearly to give him the one thing he was truly lacking: Jesus.

Jesus does the same thing for us. He loves us enough to show us our sin. What is it that gets in our way of following him? Who or what is that we fear, love, and trust in above all things? Who or what do we look to for our daily bread? If our treasure is where our hearts are, what treasure do we uncover? Jesus says that out of our hearts come evil thoughts – murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander. As St. Augustine once wrote, “Our hearts are restless, O Lord, until we find our rest in Thee.” The ways we try and calm our restlessness and fill that emptiness left by sin are endless.

And yet, as great as our selfishness, sin, and love for ourselves is, Christ’s selfless, perfect love for us is far greater. Jesus calls and gathers us to his church like a rummage sale. “Here, he says, you can bring all your junk and sin. Dump off all that clutters your heart and mind. Leave it here with me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart and here you will find rest for your souls.

I have taken your sin, your guilt, your death upon myself. I have taken it all from you and nailed it to my cross and buried in my tomb. Your debt is paid; you have been ransomed by my blood.”

And whenever sin, death or the devil accuse you, tempt you, or fill you with despair, simply tell him, “If I committed more sins than a thousand worlds, so let it be. Christ’s death for me is greater.”

That’s what it means to follow Jesus. Not that we keep a perfect checklist of all the commandments we’ve kept – after all, that’s a game we lose every time, just ask the rich young man. No. Following Jesus means daily dying and rising die with Jesus; to lose our life of self-righteous pride and find true righteousness in Jesus’ blood; to become last in order to be first; to be poor in spirit yet inherit the kingdom of heaven.

This is what it means to live in our Baptism. Daily we hear those words: “follow me.” It’s not a to-do list; it’s Jesus leading us to his Word. Jesus leading us to pardon and peace in absolution. Jesus leading us to eat and drink his body and blood. Jesus leading us to our friends and neighbors with his love and mercy.

The young man was so worried about losing his possessions that he missed the answer to his question. What must I do to inherit eternal life? “Follow me.” Follow Jesus. Here was the answer the young man was searching for. Jesus who gave up everything to be our King, Savior, and Redeemer. Jesus, who thought he was rich for our sakes became poor so that by his poverty we might be made rich. Jesus who declares us to be his greatest possession through his birth, death, resurrection, and ascension for us.

For that is what the Kingdom of God is: inheritance. Gift. The currency of the Kingdom of God cannot be purchased by gold or silver, by status or wealth, by poverty or piety, but by the holy precious blood and the innocent suffering and death of Jesus. All for you.

So, what happened to that rich young man? He went away sorrowful, Mark says, for he had great possessions. But what happened next? Did he go home look around at all his stuff and say, “He’s right, it’s all rubbish. It just gets in the way.” Maybe he packed it all up, dropped it off at Goodwill, and ran to follow Jesus on the road.

We just don’t know. Mark is a good storyteller that way. We’re not told the end because he wants us to read ourselves into the story. Will we leave sorrowful? Or will e see that what we seek is right in front of us: Jesus speaking to us in his Word. Jesus forgiving our sin with a word. Jesus baptizing us in his death and resurrection. Jesus feeding us with life and salvation.

Whatever it is that we lack; whatever it is that we need, whatever peace and comfort we seek – we find it in Christ Crucified for us.

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


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