Sermon for the Feast of All Saints: "What is Heard and What is Seen"

+ All Saints’ Day – November 1^st, 2020 +

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

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

When you read the Scriptures you’ll often notice a difference between what is heard and what is seen.

 

The servants at the wedding at Cana heard Jesus say, “Fill the jars with water…draw some out and take it to the master of the feast.” The master saw and tasted good wine made by the Bridegroom himself. The disciples heard Jesus ask Philip where they were going to buy bread for the crowds to eat; they saw more than five thousand people fed from a Jewish boy’s Lunchable. 

 

The same thing is happening in the heavenly vision Jesus gives John in Revelation. In Revelation 7, John hears a number - 144,000. Now, don’t get hung up on the numbers for too long. Like everything in Revelation, they’re symbolic. Twelve times twelve times a thousand. A perfected Israel. A new Israel. Absolute completion. None are missed. None left out. The full number are sealed for salvation. That’s what John hears.

 

What John sees, however, is far different, and far better. A great multitude which no one could number, and not just from Israel, but from all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues…

 

What John hears is the promise. What he sees is the fulfillment. What John hears is the preview – a new, completed, restored, perfected Israel. What John sees is the full length-feature film, the Church, God’s new Israel, gathered around the throne of Jesus the crucified yet victorious Lamb. God gives John this vision to reveal. To reveal Jesus’ love and comfort for us who live in a lawless, chaotic world. Jesus’ joy and hope when life is so often full of grief and despair. Jesus’ victory for us who are surrounded on all sides by sin, death, and the devil. 

 

John is given to hear and see the joy and peace and victory that are already ours in Christ, right now, even though we do not yet see this glorious vision. John is given to hear and see this vision that even now we could hear and have hope in what we will one day see when Christ returns. A great multitude standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands,  and crying out with a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

 

This was good news for John’s hearers in the 1^st century. They were fellow believers, many of whom died confessing Jesus to be Christ and Lord. Members of the seven congregations of Asia Minor who were suffering persecution, hardship, even death for the Name of Jesus. The vision is intended for comfort. They faced suffering, fear, persecution, and turmoil. They died in great tribulation, but they are fine. Safe. Sheltered by God Himself, shepherded by the Lamb whose blood cleanses them. Every sadness and sorrow is ended for them. Every tear has been wiped away by the hand of God.

 

We remember them today on All Saints’ Day. We also remember our own dear brothers and sisters in Christ as we read the names of those we love who have died in the Lord. They are there in that host arrayed in white….“these are the ones who are coming out of the great tribulation, and washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”

 

This is good news for you too. For like the saints of old, what we see in this life is often far different than what we hear in God’s Word. For us, as for John’s readers, the time of tribulation continues. Think for a moment about this year 2020; a year so many of us looked forward to with longing and hope, and instead it’s turned out more like that nightmare that we can’t wake up from. A pandemic of COVID. A pandemic of fear and uncertainty and despair. Division. Suffering. Persecution. Turmoil. Unrest. Economic worries. Employment concerns. Since 2020 hasn’t been crazy enough, why not throw in a contentious election. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

 

Revelation was written for days like these. To give us peace in Jesus who conquered sin and death and the devil for you. Revelation 7 comforts us so that no matter what this fallen world throws at you – pandemic, pain, persecution, or one bad news story after another – You have God’s word. You have his promise. You have Jesus. And he holds you. And he’s not letting go. Revelation 7 reassures you that no matter who’s in power – be it an emperor or a president – no matter who sits in the oval, the Lamb is on his throne. Revelation reminds us not to let the donkeys or elephants or COVID, or anything in all creation take your eyes and ears off the Lamb. For Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”  Rest assured that 2020 is no match for the crucified, risen, victorious, and reigning Lamb of God. Even so, come quickly, Lord Jesus. 

 

And even though you may not see or feel it right now…you are a part of holy assembly John saw in Revelation. You are clothed in white robes. You are washed in the blood of the Lamb. You are his saints. And one day your eyes will see what your ears hear today. Yes, for now, we still live in the great tribulation, but you are fine. Safe. Sheltered by God Himself. Shepherded by the Lamb who feeds you and heals you in his body and blood. Who covers, clothes, and shields you in water and Word in his robe of righteousness. Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed on us, that we should be called children of ^[a]God! And so you are.

 

On this All Saints’ Day we remember God’s promises spoken to the saints of old, and the promises he still speaks to you today. You are forgiven all your sins. Take eat, take drink. This is my body. This is my blood given and shed for you. 

 

On this All Saints’ Day we give thanks to God for the life and faith of the faithful departed, and for the life and faith he has sealed upon you and daily works in you in Holy Baptism. 

 

On this All Saints’ Day we rejoice with John and all the saints. “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”

 

For the day is coming when our ears and eyes will hear and see the Lamb on the throne and we’ll join the saints in their endless hymn – free of pain, sorrow, tears, and yes, free of masks and social distancing. The former things will be forgotten and death will be no more. 

 

The day is coming when all our mourning and weeping in this life will be gone, and all we’ll hear and see instead will be the roar of joy and mirth as a multitude of guests gather like a great family reunion at the wedding feast of the Lamb. 

 

The day is coming when we will hear and see what John heard and saw, and with all the saints we shall neither hunger anymore nor thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any heat; for the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne will shepherd them and lead them to living fountains of waters. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.” 

 

And yours. 

 

A blessed All Saints’ Day to each of you…

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

Sermon for Reformation Sunday: "Justified"

 + Reformation Sunday (observed) – October 25^th, 2020 +

Series A: Revelation 14:4-6; Romans 3:19-28; John 8:31-36

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 

 

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

 

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall. Humpty Dumpty had a great fall. All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again.

 

Now, I can guess what you’re thinking. “What in the world does Humpty Dumpty have to do with Reformation Sunday?” “Maybe the mountain air last weekend went to his head.”

 

But if you think about it, this little nursery rhyme has something in common with the Reformation. It’s a window into the world we live in, and into our own sinful condition. If the world was a giant femur the doctor’s diagnosis wouldn’t be a hairline fracture. But a complete crack. Snapped and shattered beyond repair. The world is broken. 

 

And no matter what we do or say, no matter how hard we try, it seems we’re no better off than all the king’s horses and all the king’s men. We can’t put it back together again. We can’t make it right.  

 

Paul says the same thing in Romans 3, albeit more theologically: “No one is righteous. No, not one.” “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” “By works of the Law no human will be justified in God’s sight since through the Law comes knowledge of sin.”

 

That word – justified – is more common than you might think. From the Supreme Court all the way down to Judge Judy, lawyers will argue that their client was justified. Or, if you’re formatting a document on Microsoft Word, or whatever,  you can format your text to the left, to the right, to the center, or so it’s justified. A judge declares the defendant justified. The text of your document is put set straight. To justify means to put right.

 

This is what God is doing in a far greater way for us in Jesus. In Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection we are justified. We are put right with God. We are set straight and nothing —as far as the judgment of God is concerned—is out of place. You are justified in His sight.

 

This is what St. Paul declares in Romans 3. In Jesus crucified and risen, you are justified, saved, declared not guilty, innocent. This word, justified, is at the center of Romans 3; the center of Scripture; the center of God’s saving work in Jesus crucified for you. Justified – or justification - was at the center of Luther’s life and the Lutheran Reformation as well.

 

Luther wrestled with the question, “How can I find a gracious God?” The answer, Luther discovered, wasn’t found in his brains, feelings, hands, or even his own goodness – but in the goodness and grace of Jesus crucified. For there is no distinction:  for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,  and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.

 

For Martin Luther – and for us – God’s gift of justification in Jesus is that important; it’s more than a slogan, it’s a matter of life and death. 

 

The same is true today, some 500 years later. Even though Luther’s question no longer seems relevant. Even when people could not care less about God. Grace. Justification. Even if the questions of our day sound far different: “Does God exist?” Or, “Who cares?” Or “Who are you to tell me I need God or saving?”

 

Even then, underneath all the excuses, denials, and indifferences, the problem remains the same. Our broken world is full of broken people who are constantly seeking justification. From the days of Adam and Genesis 3, fallen humanity has a restless desire, an habitual need, an insatiable appetite to be right. To justify ourselves.

 

That’s what the Pharisees and Jews in Jesus’ day taught and believed. Justification came by their ancestral blood and their keeping of the Law. That’s what the Roman Church in Luther’s day taught and believed too. Justification came by works of the Law: pilgrimages, penance, indulgences, the monastery - an endless system of self-justification.

 

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Humanity is still on a fool’s quest for self-justification. The word “justify” may not be on everyone’s lips, but the need for justification is written on our hearts. In simple ways: “Sorry officer, I didn’t see the speed limit.” “But he pushed me first.” We’re constantly trying to justify ourselves. And in far deeper ways. We deny our sin or point to others’ sins. Deceive ourselves: “Well, at least I’m not like one of those fill in the blank people we don't like.” We make excuses. We blame. We accuse. 

 

Like the fallen world around us, like the Pharisees in Jesus’ day, like the Church in Luther’s day, we seek justification in all the wrong places: in our pride, or our politics, or even in our piety; in our sinful thought, words, and deeds. 

 

This is why God gives us his Word of Law. Not a ladder to climb into heaven. But to put a lid on our excuses. To shut our mouths. Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped…For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight. 

 

Paul’s words cut to the heart. It’s a death blow. How do we get out of this grave we’ve dug ourselves into? You don’t. You can’t.             …But Christ has. Christ does. Christ will. It is Christ who justifies you. In Jesus, God declares you fully accepted. Pardoned. Slate clean. Not guilty. You belong to me.

Reformation Sunday is a day we rejoice in Jesus, the righteous judge who came down to earth and rendered his judgment – not upon you, or me, or anyone at all – but on himself. Jesus bore the judgment in our place. Jesus assumed the punishment for sin that we deserved. Jesus took all our excuses, blames, accusations, all our sinful, self-justifying ways and nailed them to the cross. 

Yes, all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,  but…you are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus. 

You, a sinner born in Adam’s sin, stand righteous before your God in Christ’s righteousness. You stand righteous before your God not because you have done good, but because Christ has done good for you. You stand righteous before your God covered not in the resume of your religious works, but in the Blood of Christ your Savior.  

Who is to condemn? No one. It is God who justifies. You are justified in Jesus. Set right. Saved by grace through faith in Christ Jesus. And if the Son justifies you, you are justified indeed. 

A blessed Reformation Sunday to each of you…

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

Sermon for Pentecost 19: "God Loves A Feast"

 + 19^th Sunday after Pentecost – October 11, 2020 +

Series A: Isaiah 25:6-9; Philippians 4:4-13; Matthew 22:1-14

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 

 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen. 

 

Ever noticed that many of Jesus’s parables revolve around a feast? The father throws his prodigal son a feast. The woman finds her lost coin and invites the whole neighborhood to a block party. The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son.

 

It’s no accident Jesus chose a wedding feast as the setting for his parable in Matthew 22. God is like that uncle, friend, or neighbor; you know one. They’re always throwing parties – not for pride or popularity – no, simply for the sheer joy of hosting and giving a feast. God loves a feast. God loves nothing more than when his people are joyfully eating his food, drinking his wine, receiving his gifts. God gave Adam and Eve the tree of life. Israel the Passover, manna, and a meal on Mt. Sinai. Jesus fed the 5,000, gave the Lord’s Supper, and promises the marriage supper of the Lamb.

 

Yes, God loves a feast. As we chew on Jesus’s parable of the wedding feast today, these divine dinner parties set the table in our minds. The wedding feast is God’s invitation, to believe, to sink the teeth of faith into his salvation, to drink the wine of redemption, to digest divine grace in Jesus, the Bridegroom, the Messiah, and Master Chef of our salvation.

 

Once again Jesus dishes up a parable for the religious authorities. “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son, and sent his servants to call those who were invited to the wedding feast, but they would not come. 

 

Quite the contrast isn’t it. On the one hand, a generous king, a festive occasion and a gracious invitation to the wedding feast. On the other, rejection. No lame excuses. No last-minute plans. Just flat out refusal. They would not come. They rejected the king’s generosity, and deeply insulted and dishonored the king and his son. 

 

But this king is gracious and joyful; he loves a feast, and he wants everyone to be as joyful as he is. Again he sent other servants, saying, ‘Tell those who are invited, “I have prepared my dinner. The meat’s on the grill. Drinks are poured. Table’s set. Everything is ready. Come to the wedding feast.”’ 

Once again the guests reveal that they don’t care for the king, his son, or his feast. This time, they violently, dishonorably, and shamefully refuse the king’s invitation. They seized his servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them. Actions like this, toward the king, have consequences. The king was angry, and he sent his troops and destroyed those murderers and burned their city.

Jesus’s words are a stark warning to the religious leaders: when you reject the feast of salvation that God gives in his Son Jesus, all that remains is judgment. Outside of the wedding feast there is no life. Of course, it need not be that way. God desires mercy, not judgment. Everything is given in Jesus. The Bridegroom is here. Salvation is done. And yet, like the shameful wedding guests in this parable, the religious authorities violently refuse and dishonor God and His Christ. 

 

There’s a warning here for us too. Do not neglect Christ and his gifts. You have a seat at the wedding feast. You’re his honored guest. The feast of salvation is yours. Purchased and won by the sacrifice of Jesus our bridegroom; given for you. There’s a seat at the table with your name on it written in the blood of the Lamb. As Hebrews says, therefore, let us not neglect so great a salvation.

 

Now you would think the king would call off the party at this point. No one RSVPed. Toss the food. Dump the wine. Send the servants home. But no. Not this king. This king loves a feast. The wedding hall must be full! ‘The wedding feast is ready, but those invited were not worthy.

 

Not worthy? How is one worthy to attend the wedding feast? Not to worry. Jesus explains as he goes on. Go therefore to the main roads and invite to the wedding feast as many as you find.’ And those servants went out into the roads and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good.  

 

Stop right there. Did you hear that? Both bad and good. The king does not invite the good and snub the bad. He invites everyone. God loves a feast. In the feast of salvation there are resumes, no scorekeeping, no Spanish inquisition on our behavior. Christ dies for the good, the bad, and the ugly. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. 

 

To be unworthy in Jesus’ parable is to dishonor and reject the king and the wedding feast for his son. Like the first guests did. Worthiness to attend the wedding feast, however, isn’t found in the hands of the guests, but in the gracious invitation of the king. Worthiness to the wedding feast of salvation isn’t found within ourselves, but in the King’s grace in his Son Jesus. If we’re looking for a worthiness within, or apart from Christ, we won’t find it. Jesus makes you worthy.

 

Jesus’ parable isn’t over yet. The king surveys the party. But there’s a problem. He saw man without a wedding garment. “Hey buddy. “how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ His response? Not speechless, like he was embarrassed. No. He was silent. He probably could have said anything. Something. And the king would’ve been gracious. But instead, silence. 

 

Jesus’s ends on a rather grim note. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

 

It sounds harsh. But notice when this man is kicked out of the wedding feast. Not before he’s in the hall, but after. He’s there. He’s in. Why is he kicked out? Just like the previous guests dishonored and shamed the king and his son by refusing the invitation, this man refused to wear the appropriate wedding garments. He deliberately dishonored the king and his son. Refusal. Rejection. The man is thrown out of the wedding feast because he refuses what the king has prepared, just as the pharisees refuse and reject the salvation God had prepared in Jesus. 

 

This final scene is a picture of judgment. Outer darkness. Weeping and gnashing of teeth. These are words not of pain, but sorrow and anger towards the king, towards God himself because those who find themselves outside the wedding feast loved their own righteousness more than the gifts of God. Remember, God loves a feast. He wants his wedding hall fill. And yet, sadly, some refuse. “For many are called, but few are chosen.”

 

Yet, even in a parable that ends with a gut bomb of judgment, God’s grace is bigger. Remember, God loves a feast. He loves the feast because he loves to give to you his goodness, grace, and gifts. God our gracious King sent his Son to give you a seat at the great marriage supper of the Lamb. God sent his Son, the bridegroom, to live for you. Lay down his life for you. Rise from the dead for you. Feed you in his body and blood. Clothe you the holy baptismal garments of his righteousness. To seat you at his banqueting table. Today. Tomorrow. And forever. 

 

Come, the wedding feast is prepared. Everything is ready. 

 

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen. 

Sermon for Pentecost 18: "God Loves His Vineyard"

 + 18^th Sunday after Pentecost – October 4^th, 2020 +

Series A: Isaiah 5:1-7; Philippians 3:1-14; Matthew 21:33-46

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

After hearing Jesus’s parables off and on these past few months, one thing is certain, Jesus’s parables are challenging. Sometimes his parables are hard to understand. As in the disciples asking Jesus to tell them the meaning of the parable of the sower. Other times, Jesus’s parables are understood perfectly – and that’s the problem. 

 

When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they perceived that he was speaking about them. 

 

The problem isn’t that they misunderstand Jesus’s story. No. They understand exactly what Jesus is saying. Jesus is comparing them to the wicked tenant farmers. And you can just imagine their body language as they listen to Jesus tell this story. Scrunched faces. Crossed arms. Clinched fists. Waiting for their chance to arrest him. But not yet. First, the crowds. They had to be turned against him.

 

The chief priests and pharisees were right. Jesus is a prophet. The prophet. The One greater than Moses. The One who is the very Word of God made flesh. Israel’s true King. Israel’s long-expected Messiah. The Son and heir of the vineyard Owner has come to reign in grace and mercy. And yet the religious authorities want none of it. They oppose, confront, and reject Jesus. So, Jesus sends a laser-guided missile straight at their unbelieving hearts in the form of this parable. 

 

There was a master of a house who planted a vineyard and put a fence around it and dug a winepress in it and built a tower and leased it to tenants, and went into another country. The master spares no expense for the care of his vineyard. He plants. Provides. Protects. The master loves his vineyard with an everlasting love. Just as YHWH loves his people.

 

The tenant farmers, on the other hand, have no love for the master. When the season for fruit drew near, the master sent his servants to the tenant farmers to get his fruit. And the tenant farmers took his servants and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other servants, more than the first. And they did the same to them. 

 

That right there, is a pretty good summary of the Old Testament. Israel’s religious leaders have a long history of rejecting YHWH. Yet, YHWH has a longer history of love for his vineyard, for his people. YHWH sent Israel priests, judges, prophets and more prophets. And yet the religious leaders rejected YHWH’s messengers, His Word, and ultimately YHWH himself. 

 

Finally the master sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’ Perhaps you’ve noticed by now that this master of the vineyard is a strange businessman. His patience towards the wicked tenant farmers is astonishing. He sent not one, but two groups of servants to the vineyard despite the actions of those murderous tenants. I don’t know about you, but if I was the master there would be no mercy. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. Go directly to jail. Or worse. And yet, the master sends his own son to the wretched tenant farmers. 

 

But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir. Come, let us kill him and have his inheritance.’ And they took him and threw him out of the vineyard and killed him.

 

This is where things get interesting. First, there’s the tenants. “Really? That’s your plan, kill the heir?” “Yea, if the son is out of the way, we can be our own masters.” Think about how crazy that is. It’s an insane, absurd thought. That’s not how inheritance works. But that’s exactly how the warped, sin-darkened, twisted hearts work. 

 

Second, if they haven’t figured out already, the chief priests and Pharisees start picking up the beat that Jesus is laying down. He’s talking about them. 

 

Jesus finishes his parable with a set up question. When therefore the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?” And once again, the religious authorities bring down the gavel on their own heads. They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death and let out the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the fruits in their seasons.” Just as the religious leaders of old rejected YHWH’s prophets, they are now rejecting YHWH himself in the flesh. The master’s Son is standing right in front of them and they’re plotting his murder. 

 

Jesus’s parable ends with the son of the vineyard owner dead, certain punishment for his killers, and new tenant farmers chosen to care for the vineyard. But Jesus isn’t done yet. Jesus adds a little extra hot sauce. “Have you never read in the Scriptures: “‘The stone that the builders rejected has become the cornerstone; this was the Lord's doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes’?”

 

Jesus quotes Psalm 118. A messianic psalm. A psalm full of explicit promise and vindication and exaltation of the rejected stone. The religious authorities may reject Jesus. They may put him through a sham trial. Beat him. Spit at him. Mock him. Even crucify him. But the stone the builders rejected will rise again on the third day. Nothing will come between the master and his vineyard. Nothing. 

 

So, what does this parable mean for us? After all, we’re not the religious authorities. Jesus’ parable is still his Word to us. A word of warning and promise.

 

Jesus’s warning is this. Never come between the Master and his vineyard. This is what the religious authorities had done. Wedged themselves and their authority between God and his people. YHWH and his Christ and his promises were no longer at their center. Like Peter, we’re tempted to cry out, “I will never fall away.” I will never let anything come between me and Christ and his good news.”  Really? We never let fear, politics, pandemics, money, anger, greed, lust, or our selfish desires come between us and our Lord? Of course we do. Lord, have mercy on me a sinner.  

 

And you know what? Here’s the remarkable thing about God the Father, the Master of the vineyard. God loves us with an everlasting love. God will let nothing come between him and his people. God will let nothing – nothing - come between himself and you. God has promised. God is faithful.

 

Even when His Son is killed. Especially then. God’s love looks like Jesus crucified for you. Jesus risen for you. God spares no expense for your care. God sends His own Son, Jesus, to be rejected so we are redeemed. What a gracious irony. Jesus is beaten and we are blessed. Jesus is thrown out of the city and crucified to make us heirs of eternal life. Jesus is killed and in him we are alive forevermore. 

 

God loves his vineyard. God loves you. You are God’s planting. God’s beloved, redeemed, baptized people. He has given his own Son to heal, sustain, and save you. Today in simple water and words, bread and wine. And tomorrow, and every day after that. This is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.

 

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen. 

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen. 

Sermon for Pentecost 17: "Jesus and the Jerusalem Authorities"

 + 17^th Sunday after Pentecost – September 27^th, 2020 +

Series A: Ezekiel 18:1-4, 25-32; Philippians 2; Matthew 21:23-32

Beautiful Savior Lutheran 

Milton, WA

 

 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

If I were to write a ticket or arrest someone for speed down Milton Way, I would probably be fined for impersonating a police officer, and rightfully so. I don’t have the authority. Or, if I were to walk into an operating room at St. Joseph’s or Good Samaritan hospital and perform a surgery, I could very well be charged with attempted homicide, and for good reason…I am not a physician. I don’t have that authority. 

 

It’s a matter of authority.

 

And when Jesus entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came up to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” 

 

Today’s reading from Matthew 21 is a matter of authority. The Jerusalem religious authorities are challenging Jesus’ authority. “Who do you think you are riding into Jerusalem on a donkey like a some kind of Messiah? Turning over tables in “His house”. Strolling into the temple and teaching the people as though he owned the place?” 

 

By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” 

 

The keyword is authority. And in the minds of 1^st century Jews, no one operated on their own authority. Authority had to come from somewhere and someone. We tend to equate authority with power. And it involves that, but much more. 

 

Authority, even today, is given, not claimed for oneself. Someone is granted, vested with, appointed or elected to a position of authority. It’s a matter of permission granted by another to do certain things. The police officer for law enforcement. The doctor for surgeries and physical wellbeing. To have authority is to have permission, authorization from someone greater to say and do certain things. The same thing happens when I pronounce the absolution: when I say, “I forgive you all your sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit,” I do so in the stead and by the command of our Lord Jesus Christ. By His authority. His permission. 

 

“By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” 

 

Now, we already know the answer to this question. Jesus teaches the crowds with authority. Jesus heals and forgives the paralytic man with authority. Jesus calms the wind and waves with authority. Jesus sends out his disciples with authority. After Jesus’ death and resurrection he declares, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” Yes, we know where Jesus’ authority comes from. From God the Father, from all eternity. 

 

But of course, the religious authorities have no interest in Jesus’s authority. What sounds like a holy, pious question only reveals their hypocrisy, unbelief, and rejection of Jesus, a conflict which only intensifies as Matthew’s Gospel continues on to Jesus’ trial and crucifixion.

 

So Jesus takes the bait. Plays their game. And ends up turning the tables on more than the money changers.  “I also will ask you one question, and if you tell me the answer, then I also will tell you by what authority I do these things.  The baptism of John, from where did it come? From heaven or from man?” 

 

Jesus essentially asks them, “Was John sent from God or did he just make all that Messiah stuff up? And if John was sent from God, what does that say about my baptism in the Jordan River?” You see, the answer to Jesus’ question is the same answer to the chief priests’ question. Jesus’s authority, like John’s baptism came from heaven, from God the Father.

 

You have to appreciate how Jesus artfully, skillfully sets this trap for the religious authorities to walk right into, and they know it. They go into their corner like contestants on Family Feud and deliberate. “Well, if we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ But if we say, ‘From man,’ we are afraid of the crowd, for they all hold that John was a prophet.” 

 

Jesus beats them at their own game. They make the political play. The cowardly answer, taking no stand at all. “We do not know”. It’s an answer of self-condemnation. They’re caught in their hypocrisy and sin. They fear the loss of their popularity, prestige, and political influence more than they fear, love, and trust in God and his Christ.

 

But isn’t the same true of us as well? As Jesus reveals their pride, hypocrisy, and sin, he also reveals ours. Jesus challenges our authority too. For like the chief priests we so often act and speak as if we are our own authority. That we have lived as if God and my neighbor do not matter, and that I matter most. My kingdom come. My will be done. Yes, Jesus’s words reveal the chief priest in us all. 

 

And yet, Jesus’s conflict with the chief priests reveals something even greater. It reveals his love for sinners, even those who reject him and will crucify him later on. Jesus longs to bring them to repentance and faith, just as he spoke through his prophet Ezekiel so long ago, that he desires not the death of the wicked but that they repent and live – all by God’s grace in Christ. Same is true for us. 

 

It’s a matter of authority. And notice how Jesus exercises his authority. Not selfishly, but selflessly. Laying down his life for the chief priests and for us chief of sinners. Not in power but in his passion on the cross for you. Not in hubris, but in humility. For you, Jesus emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

 

It’s a matter of authority.

 

And you live under the authority of Jesus crucified and risen. He repents you. He gives you faith in Him. He baptizes you in His name. He gives you love for your neighbor. He continues to teach you with authority in his life-giving Word. He continues to heal you miraculously in his body and blood. 

 

Trust his authority to save you. For He is authorized by the Father to save you, and He has done it. All for you.

 

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen.

 

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen. 

Sermon for Pentecost 16: "The Parable of the Gracious Vineyard Owner"

 +16^th Sunday after Pentecost – September 20^th, 2020 +

Series A: Isaiah 55:6-9; Philippians 1:12-30; Matthew 20:1-16

Beautiful Savior Lutheran

Milton, WA

 

 

Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

 

A misnomer. That’s the word we use when a person, place, or thing is mis-named. Like when you haul out a few classics for family game night only to discover that Yahtzee is better called “Yelling and Bookkeeping.” Sorry…Hah! More like not sorry! And Monopoly is a good recipe for family fight night.  

 

That’s what we in Matthew 20, a marvelous biblical example of a misnomer. 

 

Most of our bibles call this story the Parable of the Laborers in the Vineyard. And while the laborers in the vineyard are an important part of this parable, they’re not the most important. It’s about the master of the vineyard.

 

Calling it the Parable of the Laborers of the Vineyard isn’t wrong, it just buries the lead; puts the emphasis on the wrong syllable. It’s meant to draw our attention away from our work and wages and the works and wages of others and onto the gracious work of the vineyard owner.  

 

As we’ll see, Jesus’s parable should really be called something like “The Parable of the Outlandishly Gracious Vineyardist,” or “The Parable of the Mercifully Unfair Vineyard Owner,” or “The Parable of the Outrageously Generous Master of the Vineyard.” 

 

For that’s what this parable is all about: God’s mercy, grace, and generosity for all in Jesus. It’s about God giving us all what we don’t deserve so that we all live by his grace in Christ.

 

Here’s how the story begins. “For the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house who went out early in the morning to hire laborers for his vineyard. After agreeing with the laborers for a denarius^[ a day, he sent them into his vineyard. 

 

So far so good. This seems to fit our understanding of economics. A denarius was roughly a day’s wages. Put in your 12-hour shift. Clock in. Clock out. Get paid your denarius. That’s the way of the world. But remember, the ways of the world are not the ways of the kingdom of heaven.

 

Then, for whatever reason – maybe high yield, maybe a quick harvest was needed – whatever it was, the master needed more workers. So he goes to the local downtown market and offers to pay what is right. 

 

‘You go into the vineyard too, and whatever is right I will give you.’ So they went. Going out again about the sixth hour and the ninth hour, he did the same. That’s 12 noon and 3 pm in our reckoning. 

 

Later on…about the eleventh hour the master went out and found others standing. And he said to them, ‘Why do you stand here idle all day?’  They said to him, ‘Because no one has hired us.’ He said to them, ‘You go into the vineyard too.’ 

 

I don’t know about you, but this vineyard owner is a rather odd fellow. It’s the 11^th hour, 5pm. One hour to quittin’ time. And yet he goes out and hires more laborers. 

 

Here’s where the fun really begins. The vineyard owner said to his foreman, ‘Call the laborers and pay them their wages, beginning with the last, up to the first.’ So the 11^th hour workers get in line first. And to their surprise – and the surprise of the guys at the end of the line – they get a denarius. A day’s wage. Let’s say $120. $10 an hour. Pretty good, right?! Absolutely. Generous. Gracious. 

 

Now, put yourself in the sandals of the guys at the end of the line. They’re watching the foreman handout a denarius to the guys at the head of the line. And they’re thinking, calculating, “Whoa, a day’s wage for only an hour of work? That’s a denarius an hour. $1,440 a day. Sweet!”

 

But what did they receive? The same. Equal. They all received a denarius. And what was their reaction? We’ve all heard it. Thought it. Said it. “That’s not fair.” ‘These last worked only one hour, and you have made them equal to us who have borne the burden of the day and the scorching heat.’ 

 

They grumbled. Israel grumbled in the wilderness. The Pharisees grumbled against Jesus when he ate with tax collectors and sinners. They grumbled against the master’s generosity. “Listen buddy, “I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius?  Take what belongs to you and go. I choose to give to this last worker as I give to you.  Am I not allowed to do what I choose with what belongs to me? Or do you begrudge my generosity? Literally, Jesus says, they have an evil eye towards the master. They despise his generosity and graciousness. 

 

What does this all mean? Why does Jesus tell his disciples this parable? In part, to burst the disciples’ (and our) giant bubble of pride and self-righteousness. In the kingdom of heaven, there’s no room for self-righteousness, only the righteousness that comes by grace in Christ. That’s how we live, labor, love our neighbor – by grace in Christ. 

 

Remember the misnomer. It’s not about the laborers. It’s about the grace and generosity of the vineyard owner. The day-long laborers in the story get it all wrong when they start comparing their work and wages to the other laborers, especially those 11^th hour guys. So the disciples. So do we. 

 

So the last will be first, and the first last. That’s the key to the whole story.

 

For the ways of the kingdom of heaven are not like the kingdoms of this world. As Isaiah says, the thoughts of this gracious vineyard owner are not our thoughts. God does not reward the rewardable. He is good, generous, gracious. God shows his love for us in this, that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. The kingdom of heaven is not about our merit, earning, working, or any transaction with God. It’s not about how good or bad we think we are, or how good and bad we actually are. It’s not about us. It’s about the Gracious vineyard owner, which means this parable is about Jesus crucified for you.

 

It’s about Jesus who went to the cross that we who are last in sin and death might be made first in his life laid down for us. It’s about Jesus who labored on the cross from the 6^th to the 9^th hour, who bore the burden of our trespasses, and the scorching heat of God’s wrath – all for you. It’s about the generous vineyard owner who sent his son to be the true vine, and to stretch out his arms from the cross to this altar, this cup, this bread. To give you the wages – not of sin – but of his very life won for you. For all. Forever.

 

In the Name of + Jesus. Amen. 

The peace of God which surpasses all understanding will keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.