Monday, July 26, 2021

Sermon for Pentecost 9: "Jesus Walks on Water"

 + 9th Sunday after Pentecost – July 25th, 2021 +

Series B: Genesis 9:8-17; Ephesians 3:14-21; Mark 6:45-56

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 



 

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

 

A Hydrophile, or aquaphile. That’s what you call someone who loves the water. When it comes to the Scriptures, this seems to be a fitting title for our Lord as well. Scripture is saturated with stories of our Lord using ordinary water to reveal his identity, unveil his mission, and accomplish his will.

 

The Spirit hovering over the waters of primordial waters of creation. God using the waters of the flood for judgment and rescue of creation. Israel’s Red Sea crossing. Water from the rock in the wilderness. The Jordan River crossing. Jonah tossed into the drink for a three nights’ stay in the fish-belly hotel. 

 

No surprise, then, that when our Lord takes on human flesh we’re flooded with more of God’s water-working ways. Jesus is baptized in the Jordan River. Changes water into wine at Cana. Commands the wind and the waves be still. Pours out living water for the woman at the well. Washes his disciples’ feet. Water even flows forth from his pierced side on the cross.

 

And, as St. Mark reminds us today, Jesus is seen walking upon the sea. It all happens immediately after Jesus feeds the 5,000. Jesus sends the 12 out to see on their own. He dismisses the crowds and heads up the mountain to pray. Meanwhile his disciples are doing anything but row row rowing their boat gently down the stream. The wind was against them. It was the 4th watch of the night, somewhere between 3-6 am. And then to top it all off, they see a man walking on the water and they think they’ve seen a ghost. Remember, many of the 12 are seasoned fishermen; used to seeing strange things on the water. But not this. A man. Jesus, their rabbi. Walking on the sea. Treading on the water as if it was dry ground. And they were terrified. Scared out of their sandals.

 

Now, on the one hand, it’s easy to be hard on the disciples’ here. After all, this is one of those bible stories that seems really obvious . Of course it’s Jesus. And of course he can walk on water, obviously! He’s God. We’ve heard it so many times that it’s hard to imagine seeing this from the disciples’ point of view. 

 

For the disciples, the sea was not the place for picnics and holidays. The sea was symbolic of the Deep, of Death itself. In Genesis the earth was “formless and void” and covered by the Deep. Later in Genesis, God returned the earth to that condition in the Flood, causing the earth to be covered by the Deep.

 

The ancient people feared the Deep. They imagined a Deep filled with terrifying creatures that would swallow you whole and never spit you out again. Remember the prophet Jonah. That’s why Jesus compared His dying and rising to the “sign of Jonah.” The book of Job mentions Leviathan, Rahab, and Behemoth. Whatever these creatures might have been in reality, they take on a kind of “mythical” quality in the Scriptures. They are the devil incarnate, the ancient serpent, the Evil One, looking for someone to devour and drag down into the depths.

Jesus walking on water in the dark is a picture of what he came to do. To tread on Death and the grave. To walk on the back of the ancient serpent and crush His head. Put an ordinary man out into those rolling waters and he would sink. But put the Son of Man out there and He walks confidently. He doesn’t simply float or glide, He walks. He marches. He tramples the waves under His feet. He is the Lord whose has all the power of heaven and earth.

 

Now fast forward a few chapters to the cross. The same Jesus who strolled on the waters of the Deep, who stilled the winds, who cast out demons, whose clothing had the power to heal, this same Jesus hangs dead and helpless and lifeless on a cross to do what He came to do, to conquer the darkness, the demons, Death, Hell, the Deep all with His solitary death on a cross. 

This is how salvation is done, in the hidden strength of divine weakness. The Lord uses death to accomplish life. He exerts strength in weakness. He overcomes Death with death. He overcomes Sin by becoming Sin. He overcomes the curse by being cursed. His weakness your strength. His cross your life.

Now did the disciples understand all of this? Of course not. But they would. In feeding the five thousand, Jesus taught them to be His instruments, His servants, His waiters. He would feed His flock. They would distribute His food. In the boat on the sea, He taught them that without Him no amount of rowing would matter against the headwinds of culture and religion and opposition and persecution. No matter how strong they might have been, no matter how knowledgeable about the ways of the sea they were, they could do nothing without Him.

 

This is what keeps the church afloat. Not its power, its influence, its intelligence, its relevance or ability to negotiate the shifting winds of public opinion. What keeps the Church afloat is the presence of her Lord in Word and sacrament. The preaching of Jesus, the Body and the Blood, the water of Baptism. At the end of the Flood, God set a rainbow in the heavens as a sign. “Never again.” Never again would water be used as an instrument of destruction. Now it would be an instrument of life and salvation. Baptism. Water and Word. Water and Jesus. 

So it is for you. Jesus does his greatest work for you in water, where he takes ordinary water and unites you to him in his death and resurrection. Jesus dies and goes into the belly of the earth. You die with him in the waters of the font. Jesus rises again 3 days later, like Jonah bounding out of the fish’s mouth, so too, you rise with him in that lavish flood of mercy and washing away of sin.

In Baptism Jesus comes to you by way of water, bringing calm to your chaos, bringing peace. He places you in the ark of His Church. And though He may seem absent, and you may feel alone and struggling, pulling your oars against headwinds that are too strong for you, He comes to you. He comes to you in the deepest of darkness. He comes to you at the last watch of the night, just before the break of day. He comes to meet you when you are at your weakest, overwhelmed by Sin, overcome by Death. He comes to you to say, “Take heart. It is I. Do not fear.”

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

 

Monday, July 19, 2021

Sermon for Pentecost 8: "A New Exodus"

 + 8th Sunday after Pentecost – July 18, 2021 +

Series B: Jeremiah 23:1-6; Ephesians 2:11-22; Mark 6:30-44

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 



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

 

I had an Old Testament professor at seminary who said that everything after Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy was a divinely inspired commentary on the Torah. 

 

After hearing Mark’s account of Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 again, it’s easy to see the truth of that statement. When our Lord inspired Mark to write his account of this remarkable, miraculous event, it’s as if he had one eye on the Old Testament Exodus, and the other eye on the life and work of Jesus.

 

Israel wandered in the wilderness; now Jesus’ disciples and Israelite crowds find themselves in a desolate place. God sent his servant Moses to lead and shepherd his flock of Israel, now God sends his greatest servant, his only begotten Son, the Good Shepherd, who will lead and shepherd his flock by laying down his life for the sheep. Moses taught God’s word to the people in the wilderness; so too, Jesus the Prophet of prophets, the Word of God in the flesh, now teaches God’s Word in the wilderness of Galilee. God miraculously fed Israel with bread from heaven; now he miraculously feeds over 5,000 people bread and fish. Moses and the elders saw God and ate and drank with him on Sinai. Now in Jesus, God himself dines with his people once again.

 

With Mark’s account of Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000 it’s clear that a new exodus is under way. Jesus is none other than YHWH himself who stands in the presence of his people leading them and giving them all the blessings of the new creation – the promised eternal Sabbath rest even as he is on his own exodus to restore creation by his dying and rising.

 

When Jesus went ashore he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. 

 

Like sheep without a shepherd. It’s both a description of the crowds lostness and an indictment against Israel’s religious leaders. Much like Jeremiah blasted the wicked prophets in his day. They had been faithless shepherds. So the Lord himself comes to shepherd.

 

The same is true for us. Apart from Jesus, our Good Shepherd, we are like wandering sheep. Lost in the wilderness. Astray in our sinfulness. Stubbornly following our own selfish, sheepish ways. Unable to rescue ourselves. Faithless apart from the faithfulness of our Good Shepherd. 

 

And yet, that is exactly why Jesus came. Tired though he was, Jesus came to the crowds. Had compassion on them. Taught them. Sat with them. Fed them. Jesus is the prophet greater than Moses who, not only speaks God’s Word, he is God’s Word in human flesh. Jesus is the Good Shepherd Psalm 23 so vividly proclaims. Jesus is the greater Joshua, whose very name means YHWH saves. Now he comes to lead, guide, and rescue his people on a new exodus through his dying and rising.

 

There’s just one problem. It’s late in the day. It’s a desolate place. And people are hungry. Realizing all of this, Jesus’ disciples say, “Send them away to go into the surrounding countryside and villages and buy themselves something to eat.” 

 

Sounds like the reasonable, practical thing to do. Jesus, however, has something entirely different and far better in store. 

 

“You give them something to eat.” You can imagine the look on the disciples’ faces as they look at each other. Scan the crowd of 5,000+ people. Then look back at Jesus in utter bewilderment. “Um…Jesus. You know we’re out in the middle of nowhere, right? No towns. No food. Denarii doesn’t exactly grow on sage brush, you know.”

 

“How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asks. Five. And a couple of fish we bummed from a kid. Now what?

 

Then Jesus commanded them all to sit down in groups on the green grass…by hundreds and fifties. 

 

Hold on. Mark tells us this is a desolate place. And yet, we hear Jesus has everyone sit down on green grass. What’s going on? 

 

This is Jesus fulfilling what Psalm 23 and Ezekiel foretold. Jesus is the Good Shepherd feeding His flock, leading them to good pasture. This is God in the flesh doing what Isaiah had said he would do when the Messiah came. Waters breaking forth in the wilderness. Streams in the desert. Abundance out of desolation. Freedom out of slavery. Life out of death. A new creation restored, redeemed, and rescued in Jesus.

 

And taking the five loaves and the two fish, he looked up to heaven and said a blessing and broke the loaves and gave them to the disciples to set before the people. And he divided the two fish among them all.  And they all ate and were satisfied.  And they took up twelve baskets full of broken pieces and of the fish.  And those who ate the loaves were five thousand men.

 

Follow the verbs that Jesus is doing. He looks up to heaven. Blesses. Breaks bread. Gives to his disciples. Feeds his people. Sounds familiar doesn’t it? Jesus uses the same verbs later in Mark 14, not in the wilderness of Galilee but in an upper room in Jerusalem. Only this time the bread is his body. The cup of wine is the new testament in his blood. Blessed. Broken. Given for you. 

 

The feeding of the 5,000 and the Last Supper, are entrĂ©es to the marriage supper of the Lamb that Jesus invites us to and gathers us to in his dying and rising. Here, as in Galilee, and as in eternity, Jesus dwells with us, to bless us, feed us, and forgive us. Both events, the feeding of the 5,000 and the Lord’s Supper give us a foretaste of the heavenly feast to come in the promised land he is preparing for you. 

 

Whether it’s Jesus feeding the 5,000 in Galilee, the 12 in the upper room, or us here today, we are all dining at the same table where Jesus the Good Shepherd is both host and guest. His table is prepared for you. His grace is abundant and overflowing. Come. Eat. Drink. And be satisfied.

 

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

 

Monday, July 12, 2021

Sermon for Pentecost 7: "Mercy in the Mess"

 + 7th Sunday after Pentecost – July 11, 2021 +

Series B: Amos 7:7-15; Ephesians 1:3-14; Mark 6:14-29

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 



 

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

 

It didn’t happen often, but occasionally, while watching a movie with my parents, they would tell my sister and I to close our eyes, or they’d fast forward the movie until certain kinds of scenes were over.

 

After hearing today’s Gospel reading from Mark 6 you might find yourself feeling that way too. It’s the kind of Bible story you hear and think to yourself, “Ooh, that’s in the Bible?” Or, “Hey, kids, close your eyes…earmuffs!”  Mark’s account of Herod’s beheading of John the Baptist sounds more like a preview of HBO’s latest miniseries than it does a Sunday School bible story. Sex, adultery, dancing, drinking, sinful desires, and murder – it’s all there.

 

Hardly seems appropriate for polite conversation. But that’s just it. Stories like this remind us that the world we live in is fallen, broken, and full of impolite things. Stories like this are a reminder that the Kingdom of God is not built on polite conversation but on the reality of God’s work for fallen sinners in a fallen world. It’s a reminder of just how messy life can be. And how our Lord Jesus came to join us in this messy, broken, fallen world to bring redemption out of our utter ruin.

 

God came to save people from sin, real sin. And real sin is often not the stuff of polite conversation. Which is why it is so good to have a story like this read in a church like this on Sunday morning. It awakens us to God’s work. 

 

Still, we wonder, “What is this story doing in our Sunday readings? What is Jesus revealing about himself and his work in this story?”

 

To be sure, it’s part of the story of John the Baptist, detailing his death in all its brutality and tragedy. In that way, it’s a preview of the brutality that Jesus will also undergo on the cross. 

 

But there’s also something bigger than John going on here. You can tell that by the way Mark arranges chapter 6. At first it seems a bit odd. Right before the death of John the Baptist is recorded Jesus sends out the 12 with his authority to preach, teach, heal, and cast out demons in Jesus’ name. Hearing this is what prompts Herod to remember, and Mark to recount, John’s death. 

 

Then, immediately after this story, Mark records Jesus’ feeding of the 5,000. So, the tragic account of John’s death is bookended by these two marvelous stories of the rule and reign of Jesus, his kingdom of grace and mercy coming among the people. 

 

Why does Mark take time to tell us this sordid tale in the middle of the mission work of the kingdom of God?

 

There are, perhaps, many reasons. But I think at least 3 are important for our faith and life today.

 

First, Mark wants us to know and hear that first part of the preaching of the Kingdom of God. The preaching of repentance. Wherever God’s prophets preach God’s Word – like John did, or Amos in the OT reading – God’s Word will come first to reveal and expose the real sin in the lives of real people. Herod. You. Me. All of us. It’s easy to hear this story and be disgusted and grieved by Herod’s actions without reflecting on our own sinful thoughts, words, and deeds. It’s tempting to hear this story and think, “Well, at least I’m not as bad as Herod.” 

 

To be sure, Herod’s tale is sordid. But so is mine and so is yours. Apart from Christ there is no end to the evil we would do. Even in Christ, we have all had times when we have struggled and fallen. True Christianity, a faith that is more than a matter of knowledge, experiences the sorrow for sin and the blessed grace of forgiveness at the hand of Jesus who comes to save sinful people like us.

 

And therein lies the second thing I think Mark is getting after in arranging things this way. That the work of the Kingdom of God is quite often messy, even downright bloody at times. John is beheaded. Peter was likely crucified upside down. The rest of the 12, except John the apostle and evangelist, likewise died brutal deaths as martyrs. 

 

What happened to John, his death for proclaiming God’s Word, foreshadows what will happen to Jesus. And what happened to Jesus is a picture of what will happen to the disciples too, as they take up their cross and follow Him (8:34). But God works in the midst of this mess.

 

And that’s perhaps the greatest reason this story is written and given to us. 

 

God works in the midst of the mess of this fallen, broken, tragic, sordid world. And he does so for you. Even when John the Baptist is beheaded. Even when the Lord himself is hanging dead on a tree. Even in the mess of our fallen, broken, sinful lives, Jesus is there working in the midst of the mess to save you. 

 

And that, dear brothers and sisters in Christ, is good news. For the Kingdom of God that we pray for in the Lord’s Prayer – “Thy Kingdom Come” – is not a kingdom of might, power, or politics but of the Spirit of God. It comes wherever God’s word is preached. His Word of repentance, yes, but that only paves the way for his greatest work of declaring the Gospel to us. The good news that Jesus has taken our struggles, failures, sins, and tragic lives unto himself. And in exchange, he gives us his perfect life, his perfect death, his glorious life and resurrection. That he takes our impurity, uncleanness, and unholiness and gives us his purity, righteousness, and holiness. Or, as Paul put it, in him we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace

 

God’s kingdom is not a reign over nations but over hearts and minds. God’s kingdom comes and is given to you by faith alone in Christ alone. 

 

Earthly kingdoms are about power. God’s kingdom is about the mercy of a King who dies for the people. 

 

So the next time you come across a bible story that’s difficult to hear, don’t cover your eyes or ears, fix your eyes on Jesus your Savior, Redeemer and merciful King. He’ll be right where he promises to be. In the midst of the mess for you.

 

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