Monday, August 26, 2019

Sermon for Pentecost 11: "The Journey and the Destination"



+ 11th Sunday after Pentecost - August 25, 2019 +
Beautiful Savior Lutheran, Milton
Series C: Isaiah 66:18-23; Hebrews 12:4-29; Luke 13:22-30

Image result for the narrow door

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

Long before Pinterest decorations and coffee cups bore these famous words, Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “It’s not the destination; it’s the journey.”

To be sure, there’s wisdom in those words. Enjoying the gifts of God today, and so on.

But Emerson missed something important. The destination matters too.  A family road trip to grandma’s house makes lasting memories because both the journey and the destination matter. Lewis and Clark’s expedition Westward was important because of their journey and their destination. Dorothy’s journey along the yellow brick road through the Land of OZ  is thrilling and adventurous, but in the end, there’s no place like home. 

Both the journey and the destination matter. 

Luke reveals Jesus reenacting the greatest journey of the Old Testament, the Exodus. Remember that at his transfiguration, Jesus, Moses, and Elijah talked about Jesus’ coming exodus to be  accomplished  in Jerusalem. An exodus of freedom from sin and death, liberation from the devil’s tyranny, rescue and redemption in Jesus crucified for you. For Jesus, both the journey and the destination matter.

He went on his way through towns and villages, teaching and journeying toward Jerusalem.

Jesus also gives us a glimpse of the destination along the way; the marriage feast of the Lamb in his kingdom which has no end. His table and feast of forgiveness prepared for us after the greatest enemy of death is defeated.  People will come from east and west, and from north and south, and recline at table in the reign of God. 

And on his  journey to Jerusalem, someone asked Jesus, “Lord, will those who are saved be few?”

It’s a question many have asked. Pondered on a personal level. Debated by theologians and academics. Whatever the motivation, if we get hung up on the question, we’ll miss the main point in this Gospel reading. Notice that Jesus doesn’t really answer the question. The closest he comes is at the end where he says not how manywill be saved but that those who are savedwill come from every language, people, tribe, and nation. And that those saved will be the last, the least, and the lowly - those who have no claim on the kingdom of God, save by grace alone.

Jesus quickly redirects the conversation from examining the “few” out there, to examining the questioner, the disciples, and those gathered around Jesus. 

Strive to enter through the narrow door. For many, I tell you, will seek to enter and will not be able. 

As it goes for Jesus, so it goes for us. In our baptized life of daily repentance and forgiveness of sins, both the journey and the destination matter. Strive, Jesus says, like a wrestler agonizing and struggling with his opponent. 
Strive, Jesus says. For he knows life will not always be easy. Our enemy, the devil, is well-trained, well-equipped and battle-hardened. And he will fight savagely. He is a thief, come to steal, kill, and destroy. He is a liar, come to sow discord, deceit, and despair. He wafts our guilt, shame, and sin in our face like someone holding a dirty diaper to our nose. Through trial and temptation, he hopes to lead us on a very different journey, to an altogether different destination. 

Be vigilant, Jesus warns. Keep our eyes on the journey – to live in God’s gift of daily repentance and forgiveness. And also to keep an eye on the destination. Look for the coming of Christ and his gracious reign. Thy Kingdom Come, we pray. Thy Will be done on earth as it is in heaven. In our Lord’s church. School. Our homes, families, and lives. On the one hand, the journey is done and the victory is ours. And on the other, we strive. Struggle. Wrestle. We live in repentance and forgiveness confessing that this too is the work of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit in you and in your life. Jesus calls us here to be who he declared us to be: his holy, baptized, beloved Christians. 

Jesus admonishes us this way, not because we enter the narrow door by our own our own striving and struggling, but because you belong to Jesus who has strived, struggled, and wrestled sin, death, and the devil for you. You are baptized into Jesus who journeyed to the cross to save you. And He invites you to join him this day, and on the Last Day, in a never-ending party, the marriage supper of the Lamb who has conquered death. 

 And people will come from east and west, and from north and south, and recline at table in the kingdom of God.And behold, some are last who will be first, and some are first who will be last.”

This is not what the world, or our sinful flesh expects. When we’re told to strive, we’re told to be stronger, faster, bigger, better. That’s the way of the flesh, but not the cross.

Strive to do nothing, for God has done it all for you. Strive to see that everything we have - our wisdom, strength, gifts, abilities, or possessions - it’s all gift from God. Strive to be last, Jesus says. Least. Nothing. For it is Christ who makes us first. In Jesus, we who are last have become first because He who was first became last for us. Least. Nothing. For us. 

To get to the narrow door, we first pass through the city gates of Jerusalem, where Jesus passes as the true king of Israel.

To sit at the table of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the prophets, we first marvel and believe as  Jesus sits with the disciples at a table prepared with his body and blood to sustains us on the journey.

To enter through the door of life on the last day, we first gaze at Christ who was shut out for us, who was numbered among the transgressors, and who was treated like a sinner, like sin himself, for he bore our sins in his body, and he took them away and died for you. And then the Father raised him from the dead.

This is what sustains us on our pilgrimage, today and every day until we reach our journey’s end.

 For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempestand the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them...But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering,and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

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

Friday, August 23, 2019

Sermon for Pentecost 10: "Through the Fire"



+ 10thSunday after Pentecost – August 18th, 2019 +
Beautiful Savior Lutheran, Milton
Series C: Jeremiah 23:16-29; Hebrews 11:17-12:3; Luke 12:49-53

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


“I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished! Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. For from now on in one house there will be five divided, three against two and two against three. They will be divided, father against son and son against father, mother against daughter and daughter against mother, mother-in-law against her daughter-in-law and daughter-in-law against mother-in-law.”

I’m guessing none of us have this section of Scripture for our confirmation verse or scrolled in beautiful calligraphy over our fire place. Perhaps you even winced a little after the Gospel reading when we confessed, “This is the Gospel of the Lord.”

There’s no doubt about it. Jesus’ words in Luke 12 are challenging to hear. Hard to understand. Why is the Prince of Peace speaking about fire, baptism, peace, and division? 

We can better understand Jesus’ pyrotechnic preaching by looking at the context and content of Jesus’ words. Knowing what’s happening in Luke 12 and what Jesus says will give us a better grasp of this hard saying of Jesus, and help us better understand what Jesus is saying to us today in these words.

First, some context. Throughout Luke 12, Jesus addresses several groups of people: His disciples. The crowds who follow him. And the Pharisees. Jesus prepares his disciples for future persecutions; he warns the disciples and the crowds against the hypocrisy of the Pharisees; and he lovingly admonishes them not to trust in possessions. Fear not. Jesus’ death and resurrection is greater than all that life throws at you. God has you covered. He is faithful. He will preserve, protect, and deliver you. 

And then comes today’s reading: I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished!  

Even though his language sounds jarring to our ears at first, Jesus’ words have been leading us and his disciples to this very point. Fire. Baptism. Peace. Division. These words encompass everything Jesus’ ministry is about. 

Fire, as we know well during wildfire season, is both destructive and purifying. Scripture uses fire both ways: as a sign of God’s judgment and wrath against sin, like we hear from the fiery preacher of repentance, John the Baptist. Fire is also refining, purifying, holy-making like when Jesus pours out the Holy Spirit and fire on Pentecost, the fiery wind of the Spirit. Gospel fire. Like the pillar of fire that led Israel through the Sea or the fire of the burning bush that did not burn up, the fire Jesus casts upon the earth is a refining, purifying, illuminating fire that saves.

For Jesus is the one upon whom the fire of God’s wrath for sin will fall. On the cross, God’s wrath is kindled, not against us, but Jesus. We’re like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, as Jesus is crucified in the fiery furnace of God’s wrath to save us. Jesus passes through the fire so that we will not be burned. 

For that fire to be kindled, there must be sacrifice, a whole burnt offering, a sinless Victim for the sinful many. For this peace that passes our understanding to come to us, there must be a death, and not just any death, but the death of God in the Flesh. He alone can kindle this fire. No amount of rubbing the sticks of our good works together can accomplish this, no matter how many merit badges we accumulate to our credit. Only Jesus can bring Pentecost fire to the earth, but first, He must die and rise. There is no other way than the way of the cross. And in the words of today’s Gospel, He is driven and compelled to go this lonely mission. His eyes are fixed to the cross like a cyclist zeroed in on the last leg of the Tour de France.

And would that it were already kindled, Jesus says. Great is my distress until it is accomplished. Finished. Completed. 

When Jesus speaks of fire and baptism, he’s pointing his disciples and us ahead to his crucifixion for us. It’s no accident that his ministry begins and ends with Baptism. First his watery baptism in the Jordan as he placed himself under God’s wrath as our substitute. Then his bloody baptism on the cross as he atones for the sin of the world. The water of the Jordan that flowed over Jesus’ head gives way to the water and blood that flows out of Jesus’ side. From the cross. To the font. To the chalice. To you. For you.  

Jesus’ baptism set him on the road to Calvary. It was the washing of the Sacrifice. “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” And Jesus was compelled to see His baptism through to the end and its fulfillment when He could cry out, “It is finished.”

This is what brings peace. In the darkness of Good Friday, the fire of God’s love burns brightest. The burning passion of God to save sinful humanity and a fallen creation. There, in Jesus’ death, is a peace that the world cannot give, a peace the world does not know, a peace the world hates. It’s the peace of sins washed away by the blood of the Lamb, the peace of God in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting men’s sins against them, the peace of God’s justifying Word that declares us righteous for Jesus’ sake alone, the peace of a quiet conscience knowing that there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

This, then, is the irony and paradox of the Christian life. Living in this peace. Baptized into Jesus’ death and resurrection. Purified and cleansed by his sacrifice on the cross means that more often than not, we find ourselves at odds with the world. 
Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division. 

I’m sure for many of us, Jesus’ words hit home. We live in a divided world. Simply confessing the Christian faith, and living in Christ, we’re divided from those who don’t. Some leave the church or reject our Lord. And then there’s our sins of thought, word, and deed that cause division in our families, marriages, friendships, and everything. It’s a sober reminder that we don’t find the family of God in ancestry.com, but in the cross; in the font; and at the altar – in the communion of saints.

Jesus himself was no stranger to division. For that’s exactly what happened to him on the cross. The Father against the Son. Forsaken for you. Judged for you. Crucified for you. Jesus was divided from the Father as he bore all our sins of division, so that in his death and resurrection we would never be divided from him. 

Therefore let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.

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

Monday, August 12, 2019

Funeral Sermon for Ellen Ehinger: "Dependable"



+ In Memoriam - Elle Ehinger +
Beautiful Savior Lutheran, Milton
Graveside at Sumner Cemetery
1 Corinthians 15

Image result for jesus' resurrection full of eyes

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

Life in this fallen world has a peculiar way of being dependably undependable. The trusty family car breaks  down. The old faithful freezer gives out. The once strong company suffers mass layoffs. Sooner or later, we find ourselves sighing, “They sure don’t make ‘em like they used to.”  Even our own bodies, once healthy and active, get sick, grow old, and die. 

We often find ourselves singing or praying the words of the old hymn: 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
Earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me. 

I imagine that in the 98 years of life God gave to Ellen, she saw her fair share of disappointments, struggles, and suffering too. But Ellen also knew that even though life in this fallen world is full of undependable things and people,  the love of God in Christ Jesus is far greater and more certain than all the uncertainties of life. 

She knew and heard Jesus’ Word of truth and life which was a lamp to her feet and a light to her path. She knew that Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow for her and for you. She knew that the love of God in Christ crucified and risen is the one thing that is truly and perfectly and unfailingly dependable. She knew that she was baptized into the most dependable, trustworthy, and reliable person there is - Jesus in his death and resurrection for her and for you.

Several months ago, during one of our visits, we were reading the Scriptures before receiving Holy Communion. And though I don’t remember which passage I was reading, I do remember something remarkable Ellen said about the passage we had just read: “Jesus’ resurrection,” she declared, “that...you can depend on.”

You see, Ellen believed and confessed that in this topsy-turvy world, Jesus crucified and risen is our constant. Our north star in the night. Our anchor in the maelstrom. Our compass in our earthly pilgrimage. Reminds me of an old saying from the Carthusian monks of the 11th Century: Stat Crux Dum Volvitur Orbis. The Cross stays steady while the world turns.

“Jesus’ resurrection. That...you can depend on.”

In those brief but beautiful words, Ellen confessed what St. Paul declares in 1 Corinthians 15:

For if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished. If in Christ we have hopein this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied.
But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep. For as by a man came death, by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead. For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive.
St. Paul reminds us that Ellen’s life - and our lives as God’s baptized, beloved children - is a life lived in God’s gracious, merciful, loving dependability towards us. Though we are faithless, Jesus is faithful. Though our life twists and turns, and is full of ups and downs, the love of Jesus crucified and risen is changeless and unchanging. Even today, in the middle of a cemetery, in our grief and tears, Jesus is and always shall be the dependable one for us. 

In Jesus’ death and resurrection, the Last Enemy of Death has been defeated, for Ellen and for you.

In Jesus’ death and resurrection, we receive a true and trustworthy hope of the resurrection of our own bodies and life everlasting. A physical, real resurrection for Ellen and for you. A joyful reunion with those we love who have died in the faith. But we also receive strength, mercy, and every good thing in life today because of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

In Jesus’ death and resurrection, we have received Him who is truly, eternally, and daily dependable for you, just as he was for Ellen throughout her life.

Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:
“Death is swallowed up in victory.”
“O death, where is your victory?
    O death, where is your sting?”
The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

Jesus’ resurrection and Ellen’s and yours. That...you can depend on.


In the Name of + Jesus. Amen. 


Sermon for Pentecost 9: "Theology and Ornithology"



+ 9thSunday after Pentecost – August 11, 2019 +
Beautiful Savior Lutheran, Milton
Series C: Genesis 15:1-6; Hebrews 11:1-16; Luke 12:22-34

Image result for consider the birds of the air

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

Picture yourself in Catechism class, bible study, or Sunday School. Your coffee or tea in one hand. Your bible in the other. You’re waiting for the bell to ring. And then, instead of the pastor or teacher walking to the front of the room, a raven swoops in. 

That’s what Jesus is doing for us Luke 12. He’s giving us a little Christian theology and ornithology. Today Jesus wants us to learn from the birds. 

To know, trust, and believe that we need not worry about our daily life. God has you covered in Jesus. He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?

To know, trust, and believe that if our Lord cares for birds in such abundance, not only does He give us the greatest gift of eternal life, but every day gifts we need for Sunday or a Tuesday.

To know, trust, and believe that if our Lord clothes the flowers of the field with a greater and more glorious wardrobe than Solomon, he clothes us, not only with his righteousness in Christ, but also clothing, shoes, and all good things. 

So today, Jesus invites us to consider the birds.

Consider the birds he created and blessed on the 5thday of creation to be fruitful and multiply: to soar and sing his praises. Consider the ravens and doves he gave to Noah to scout the dry lands of the new creation after the flood. Consider the ravens he sent with food to sustain Elijah in his despair. 

Consider the ravens: they neither sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! 

I love how Martin Luther illustrates this in one of his sermons. “I take my hat off to you, my dear teacher, I have to admit I don’t have the art you have. You sleep all night in your little nest without a care in the world. In the morning you leave; you’re happy and bright. You sit on a limb of a tree and sing, praise, and give thanks to God, then you fly off looking for a little kernel of grain and find it. Why haven’t I, old fool that I am, learned to do the same?”

Luther’s right. The birds put us to shame. We worry. Fret. Doubt. Despair. We have sleepless nights, churning stomachs, headaches, heart palpitations, stress, and the list goes on. 

This kind of inward focused worry and anxiety is like a cancer of the soul, consuming us from the inside, paralyzing us, disordering our lives, our eating, our drinking, our priorities. It eats away at us like rust, corroding our souls until we are nothing but a shell. 

Jesus knew His disciples’ hearts just as He knows our own. He knew that He had called them away from their fishing boats and tax collectors office. And there were probably days when they wondered aloud, “What are we going to eat today? How will we afford clothing when ours wears out?” They were following someone who had no place to lay His head, who didn’t promise them wealth and prosperity like the prosperity preachers you hear today. Jesus never promised them any of that. Instead He promised them hardship and persecutions in this life and eternal life in a kingdom that has no end. 
Consider the ravens, Jesus says to His anxious disciples. Look at the birds. They neither sow nor reap nor store in barns, and yet God feeds them.Yes, they spend the bulk of their day looking for food. And yes, they work their feathered tails off building nests. But in the end, they are completely dependent on their environment. “And yet God feeds them.”The hidden hand of God cares even for the birds of the air. And if He cares about the birds, how much more he cares for you. You are worth so much more than the birds.
You are worth so much to our Lord, valued so greatly and loved so deeply by him that he became - not a bird; not a flower – but man for you. Jesus became an infant, without a care in the world, born to carry our burdens, worries, and cares upon himself. Jesus came to die on a tree for you, to gather you in his arms as a hen gathers her chicks. Jesus sends the same Holy Spirit that descended upon him in the form of a dove to dwell with you. Today. Tomorrow. Forever. 
Jesus feeds us as he does the birds of the air, only better. Grain that becomes bread that is his body. Fruit that ferments and becomes wine that is his blood. Given. Shed. For you. For your forgiveness, life, and salvation – not just eternally, but presently too. Reminds me of a popular Christian symbol from the 12thcentury: a mother pelican who was thought to be attentive, to the point of piercing her own breast to feed her young when food was scarce. It’s a symbol that points us to Jesus who was pierced for us and feeds us with his body and blood in the Lord’s Supper. His kingdom which comes to you in his word, water, body and blood.
Seek his kingdom, and these things will be added to you. 
“Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom.
That’s the good news Jesus speaks to our anxieties and fears today. It is our Father’s good pleasure to give us the kingdom, and He works everything together for you to receive the kingdom. You have it all, thanks to Jesus. His death and life has purchased what you cannot afford. Life with God. You have His Word on it. He clothes you in Baptism; He feeds you in His Supper. You have the kingdom. And because he’s given you the big stuff, you can rest assured that he’ll care for you in the small stuff too. 
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.