Reflection: Something to Rejoice In (July 7, 2013)

The 7th Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 66:10-14; Galatians 6:1-10, 14-18; Luke 10:1-20

It’s easy to criticize our country and to lament how things are not what they used to be. America is filled with immorality and our leaders not only allow it but more and more are endorsing and promoting it. Those who want our country to return to its Judeo-Christian moral roots don’t have much sway these days. But given the option to stay or to leave, there are very few Americans who would consider moving to another country. As much as we complain about our country and our government, we find ourselves agreeing with Winston Churchill’s remark that “democracy is the worst form of government except all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”

When we take stock of all that it means to be Americans, we have much to rejoice about. But there’s a danger in basing our joy in being citizens of the United States. It’s the same danger that Jesus’ disciples were facing when they returned to Him rejoicing that they had power over demons. “Do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you,” Jesus warned them. He knew that if they focused on the things that were honored, respected, and desirable in the world that they would get wrapped up in the pursuit of glory. “But rejoice in this,” He continued, “that your names are written in heaven.”

Earthly glory and heavenly glory often stand in opposition to one another. As Christians in the world, we find ourselves in the very place that they collide. Our great danger as Americans is to think that our U.S. citizenship somehow entitles us to have and to hold glory. Spoiled by the vast wealth and unprecedented power that our nation has enjoyed, we’ve come to put our hope, trust, and security in our citizenship and the benefits that we receive through it. We expect glory. We demand it. And we rejoice in having it. But Jesus gives us something else to rejoice in. He redirects our focus from our earthly citizenship to a citizenship that isn’t the least worst option, but one that is perfect in every way. It is a citizenship that ensures us that all of our needs will be met without exception and without erosion. It is a citizenship that does entitle us to have and to hold glory, just not yet. We are blessed to be Americans, but Jesus would say “Do not rejoice in this, but rejoice that your name is written in heaven.” He should know; He’s the one who has written them there.

Audio file of the sermon "Something to Rejoice In"

Reflection: What Are We Doing Here (June 30, 2013)

The 6th Sunday after Pentecost
1 Kings 19:9b-21; Galatians 5:1, 13-25; Luke 9:51-62

If you’ve ever experienced the euphoria of an exciting experience, then you’ve also experienced the let down that follows. It seems that the more intense that excitement is, the more disappointing the realities of going forward with ordinary living are. This is especially the case when those realities don’t line up with the expectations that we had beforehand. When the excitement of a promotion trails off into the daily headaches of new responsibilities, or the thrill of a baby being born is lost in a series of sleepless nights, or the idealism of newlyweds collides with the eye-opening experiences of sharing one’s whole life with another person, we understand what the prophet Elijah was going through.

Before going on the run, Elijah had confronted 400 prophets of Baal. He experienced an incredible display of God’s power and a resounding victory over God’s enemies. Although people had rallied around him during this confrontation, the queen was bent on capturing and killing Elijah for his actions. The thrill of victory quickly faded into the fear of defeat and destruction. Elijah ran for his life and hid in a cave. But God called him out of his cave and questioned him. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” It was a powerful question. It forced Elijah to realize how foolish he was being. He had no reason to run away. He should not have been afraid. The Lord was on his side. Victory was certain.

Like Elijah, we can let our circumstances draw us away from God’s promises and into the despair of the things that could go wrong and the possible outcomes that would be undesirable. When God finds us in the caves hallowed out by our doubts, fears, and worries, He calls us out into the light of His love and grace. “What are you doing here?” reminds us that we are called to rise above our circumstances to share in the greater purpose that God has planned for us and for which He has crafted us, our lives, and the very circumstances in which we find ourselves. When we ask ourselves “What are we doing here?” we’re seeking to align our lives and our wills with the life to which Christ has called us and the work that He has prepared for us. And we’ve opened ourselves to the euphoria of exciting experiences that do not diminish and cannot lead us to disappointment because they are based in the certainty of God’s victory in Christ Jesus.

Audio file of the sermon "What Are We Doing Here?"

Devotion: Hand to the Plow (Luke 9:51-62)

Click here to play an audio file of this devotion (or right-click to download the MP3 file).

51 As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem. 52 And he sent messengers on ahead, who went into a Samaritan village to get things ready for him; 53 but the people there did not welcome him, because he was heading for Jerusalem. 54 When the disciples James and John saw this, they asked, "Lord, do you want us to call fire down from heaven to destroy them?" 55 But Jesus turned and rebuked them, 56 and they went to another village. 57 As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, "I will follow you wherever you go." 58 Jesus replied, "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head." 59 He said to another man, "Follow me." But the man replied, "Lord, first let me go and bury my father." 60 Jesus said to him, "Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God." 61 Still another said, "I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say good-by to my family." 62 Jesus replied, "No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God." 

Most of us have never touched a hand plow, let alone used one for plowing. So most of us have no idea of just how hard it is to plow a row using a plow that is being pulled along by an animal. Not only is the work physically demanding, it takes a lot of concentration and skill to plow the rows straight enough to make good use of the available land. The key to plowing straight rows is to pick a fixed object at the end of the row and to keep looking forward as you plow. Looking around at the scenery will make for wavy, troubling rows. Looking back will make for crooked, useless rows.

When Jesus said that whoever puts his hand to the plow and then looks back is not fit for the kingdom of God (Luke 9:62), He was making use of an activity that was part of everyday life for the people listening to Him. They knew that someone who kept looking back while plowing was not fit for the job. The same is true for those who commit to following Jesus but keep looking back at what they have given up in order to follow Him. The Christian life is a calling to a radically different way of living, one which requires us to leave behind the ways of this world that we previously followed in order to be faithful and effective servants of Jesus. He is telling us that anyone who looks back to what he has left behind for the sake of the Kingdom is not fit for working in that Kingdom.

Is the call to follow Jesus really so radical? Many people who consider themselves followers of Jesus follow Him in a way that is more aptly described as a willingness to accommodate Him to some degree into their existing lives. In other words, they are open to imitating Jesus by incorporating His teachings and His examples into the way that they live, at least to the point that it is practical and reasonable to do so. But the word "follow" goes far beyond this understanding. The Theological Dictionary of the New Testament describes the Greek word that is translated "follow" as “not in any sense an imitation of the example of Jesus, … but exclusively a fellowship of life and suffering with the Messiah which arises only in the fellowship of His salvation.” Jesus' interactions with those who would follow Him on their terms show us that His call to follow is a radical calling. Following Jesus includes the willingness to leave one's home, family, and possessions, if necessary. It may involve breaking off friendships and ending associations. It could even mean terminating our employment and seeking a new occupation. There is no one answer to what it means to follow Jesus. His call comes to each of us in different contexts and varying circumstances. But we can be sure that it is always a radical call.

Elisha's story demonstrates the radical nature of the call to follow Jesus. Called by Elijah to be his successor while he literally had his hands to the plow, Elisha understood that he would have to leave his current life behind in order to be faithful to his new calling. After saying good-bye to his parents, Elisha cut himself off from his old life by slaughtering his oxen and burning his plow to cook their meat. He had committed himself to putting his hand to the plow of God's kingdom in a way that kept him from looking back. Is it possible that Jesus wants us to put our hands to the plow in the same way that Elisha did? Does He really expect us to radically change our lives in order to follow Him? In a word, yes. All who would follow Jesus are called to abandon those things that tie them to the world in order to be effective servants in His Kingdom — and to look forward in faith without looking back. And all who look back are unfit to follow Jesus. But look back we do.

The truth is that we are unfit for service in the Kingdom of God. We are too tied to the world and its ways, too weak in faith, too addicted to comfort and material security to follow Jesus without looking back. But that's Jesus' point. For all who would follow Him on their terms, confident of their worthiness to be His disciples, there is no place in the Kingdom. But for those who would despair of their weaknesses, confess the ways in which they look back, seek the righteousness that Christ alone can provide, and cling to the grace of God as their only source of hope, the Kingdom is flung wide open. By that grace we are included in "a fellowship of life and suffering with the Messiah" who resolutely set His face toward Jerusalem and the Cross for our salvation -- and never looked back.

Journal: Same Sex Marriage Was Inevitable ... What Else Is?

The Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS) has rendered its judgment on

the legality of same sex marriage. Its decision could hardly been a surprise to anyone paying attention to the cultural shifts in America. Given the previous rulings made by the SCOTUS and lower courts regarding personal rights, it was inevitable that homosexual couples would be given the same standing as heterosexual couples. The SCOTUS has followed a logical stream of precedent and progression. In doing so, the Court has furthered the inevitability of extending legal recognition and protections to people who embrace other sexual  and relationship preferences, especially polygamy and including pedophilia.

Polygamy is the next logical domino to fall in the battle of a culture insistent on removing sexual taboos. Those who framed the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), which the SCOTUS struck down, must have understood this and sought to protect against it by defining marriage as one man and one woman in a lifelong, committed relationship. Logically, if homosexual unions enjoy the protection of the law because they are formed by consenting adults, then three or more consenting adults of the same or different genders should enjoy those same protections. People will argue that nothing  in reason or nature calls for the restriction of marriage to two people. Others well certainly point out that there are examples of polygamy in the Bible. The limitation of marriage to two people will be attributed to religious idealism or bigotry. Like it or not, legal and sanctioned polygamy in America is inevitable.

While the thought of polygamy may be tolerable to a large degree, and even desirable among a number of Americans, the idea that pedophilia will one day be embraced by our culture and protected by law seems preposterous. However, the only argument standing in the way of it is that pedophilia differs from homosexual marriage and polygamy because they involve consenting adults while pedophilia involves children who cannot consent. Certainly pedophilia will continue to be the deviant behavior that it is currently thought to be, won't it? Unfortunately, the seeds for change have already been sown. With the recent court decision forcing "morning after" pills to be made available to female persons of any age without parental consent, the door has been thrown open to minors having the right to grant consent to sexual activity and relationships. Once such consent is a matter of personal civil rights, what remains to stop children from entering into relationships, even marriage, with adults?

The consequences of redefining marriage are staggering. In them we find all sorts of actual and potential inevitable outcomes, including a response by Christians in our culture that will very likely be ineffective. Arguably, the immoral shifts we are now experiencing as a nation are the inevitable results of the failure of the American Church to be what it is called to be. Rather than concentrating her energies and resources on being light in the world of darkness and salt to those who are perishing, the Church has taken up political arms and engaged those whom we've been called to rescue from sin and death as enemies to be defeated in legislative halls and courtrooms. We set aside Word and Sacrament ministry to engage unbelievers in the public square with worldly weapons. It was inevitable that the Church stripped of her power would lose such a battle.

If only it were inevitable that the American Church would wake up from her slumber and take up the arms that her Lord has given and engage the world in the battle to which she has been called. Should we rise to this challenge and return to the unique work of the Church on Earth to bring life and salvation to those who are perishing then one more thing would be inevitable: we, the Church, would find neither encouragement nor disappointment in the outcomes of elections, passages of bills, or renderings of SCOTUS decisions, but would stand unwavering in the confidence that Jesus Christ is Lord and that in Him we are victorious, now and forever.

Reflection: It Was Worse than We Thought (June 23, 2013)

The 5th Sunday after Pentecost
Isaiah 65:1-9; Galatians 3:23-4:7; Luke 8:26-39

After a crisis, when we've gotten through whatever it was that overtook our lives,
we can often look back to discover that things were really a lot worse than we realized when we were in the middle of it all. It can be disturbing to recognize how badly things could have turned out for us. Such an experience leaves us humbled, and, as followers of Jesus, grateful for God’s grace. This was certainly the case for the man who was living among the tombs in the Gerasenes. He lived in isolation, tormented by demons and feared by people. He was alone and in agony until Jesus delivered him from his hopeless and dire situation. Afterwards, when he was in his right mind sitting at the feet of Jesus, he realized that his horrible condition was worse that he had thought for had Jesus not come to him he would have continued in that wretched state forever. We should be able to relate to this revelation.

When we consider what it means to be followers of Jesus, we often focus on comparing our behaviors and morals to those of nonbelievers. We see the error of their ways and are glad to have a greater sense of meaning, purpose, and hope in our lives than they do in theirs. But do we really understand what it was like for us before Christ brought us salvation? Today’s Epistle lesson tells us that “before faith came, we were held captive under the law” and imprisoned by it. It goes on to explain that we “were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world,” that is, we were slaves to sin and death. We were a rebellious people, who walked in a way that is not good, following our own devices, and provoking God to His face continually. We had no hope for freedom, we had no chance for salvation, and we had no way to avoid eternal condemnation. It was worse than we thought — it was worse than we still realize.

If we understood just how bad off we were before faith we would find ourselves begging Jesus for an opportunity to serve Him in thankfulness, like the man who had been delivered from the horrors of demon possession. You have been delivered from an inescapable, horrible condition and have been sent to “declare how much God has done for you.” You have been given faith, set free from the law, adopted into God’s family, and made an heir of eternal life. It was worse than you thought, but now you have been justified by faith.

Audio file of the sermon "It Was Worse than We Thought."

Devotion: What Do You Want With Me Jesus (Luke 8:26-39)

Audio file of the devotion "What Do You Want with Me, Jesus?"

26 They sailed to the region of the Gerasenes, which is across the lake from Galilee. 27 When Jesus stepped ashore, he was met by a demon-possessed man from the town. For a long time this man had not worn clothes or lived in a house, but had lived in the tombs. 28 When he saw Jesus, he cried out and fell at his feet, shouting at the top of his voice, "What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, don't torture me!" 29 For Jesus had commanded the evil spirit to come out of the man. Many times it had seized him, and though he was chained hand and foot and kept under guard, he had broken his chains and had been driven by the demon into solitary places. 30 Jesus asked him, "What is your name?" "Legion," he replied, because many demons had gone into him. 31 And they begged him repeatedly not to order them to go into the Abyss. 32 A large herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside. The demons begged Jesus to let them go into them, and he gave them permission. 33 When the demons came out of the man, they went into the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned. 34 When those tending the pigs saw what had happened, they ran off and reported this in the town and countryside, 35 and the people went out to see what had happened. When they came to Jesus, they found the man from whom the demons had gone out, sitting at Jesus' feet, dressed and in his right mind; and they were afraid. 36 Those who had seen it told the people how the demon-possessed man had been cured. 37 Then all the people of the region of the Gerasenes asked Jesus to leave them, because they were overcome with fear. So he got into the boat and left. 38 The man from whom the demons had gone out begged to go with him, but Jesus sent him away, saying, 39 "Return home and tell how much God has done for you." So the man went away and told all over town how much Jesus had done for him.

Everyone else had written the man off as crazy and dangerous. He was legendary in the worst sort of ways, the subject of wild talk and the object of the hatred that comes from deep-seated fears. Forced to live among the tombs — the living among the dead — the man howled in the pain of physical, spiritual, and emotional torment. His anguished cries only added to the fears of the people living nearby and to his isolation. Nobody wanted anything to do with this pathetic figure. Nobody, that is, except Jesus.

Having just calmed the storm that raged on the Sea of Galilee in an awe-inspiring display of His rule over nature, Jesus sought out the man whom others intentionally avoided to show His power over unnatural forces. Unaccustomed to people desiring to be in his presence, the demon-possessed man rushed to Jesus with a demanding question, "What do You want with me, Jesus?" It's a question that we would do well to ask of Jesus, for His answer to us is strikingly similar to the answer He gives the tortured man held captive by spiritual darkness — as strikingly similar as the natural condition of our souls is to his horrifying state.

What is it that Jesus wanted with this pathetic man? Jesus wanted to set him free from the bondage of sin and death. Jesus wanted to drive out everything that had enslaved his mind and heart and then free the man to set them on Him and His will. Jesus wanted to bring life to the living dead. In short, Jesus wanted to save him. If we saw ourselves in the same wretched state as the man living among the tombs in the region of the Gerasenes we would rush to Jesus just as he did. But unlike this man, we manage to convince ourselves that we are not so bad off. We live comfortable lives. We are productive in our work. We have family and friends with whom we share our lives and spend our time. For us, life is generally good — so good that it is easy for us to never consider asking the question "What do you want with me, Jesus?"

But life isn't always good. Our circumstances can change in an instant. We know what suffering, pain, and loss are because we live in a fallen and broken world. We also know these things from our call to take up the crosses in our lives, crosses that are meant to draw up closer to Christ to increase His grace in our lives. But these hardships can just as easily become snares for us trapping us in despair and enslaving us to our circumstances. What does it take — or will it take — for you to rush into Jesus' presence seeking His liberating power? To what extent does He have go to bring you to the realization that your great need is His love and grace? What fear of loss has you clinging to the emptiness of our world instead of embracing the joy, release, and peace of the Cross? When you take stock of all that He has already done for you, what can keep you from asking in joyful expectation, "What do you want with me, Jesus?" However He may answer that question, you can be certain that what He wants with you -- and for you -- flows from the riches of His grace.

Reflection: Looking Down on Jesus (Jun 16, 2013)

The 4th Sunday after Pentecost
2 Samuel 11:26-12:10, 12:13-14; Galatians 2:15-21, 3:10-14; Luke 7:36-50

Have you ever been invited to dinner at the home of someone you didn’t particularly like? If so, you were probably surprised by the invitation. If you attended, you might have been further surprised by the friendly treatment that you received. Sometimes we’re amazed by how different people can be from our opinions of them. On the other hand, imagine what it would be like to accept such an invitation only to be treated with disrespect and to be looked down on. Certainly that kind of experience would drive us to greatly dislike our host. We may even retaliate. We don’t tolerate people mistreating us and looking down on us. Interestingly, Jesus did.

Jesus made it a habit to eat with people who didn’t deserve the fellowship that eating together provided and the acceptance that it conveyed in that culture. His willingness to eat with “sinners and prostitutes” caused a lot of friction with His main adversaries, the Pharisees. That conflict makes Jesus’ acceptance of an invitation to a dinner at a Pharisee’s house even more intriguing. Why would a Pharisee invite Jesus into his home? Why would Jesus eat with such self-righteous, arrogant, and judgmental people?

Jesus’ acceptance of this dinner invitation had a very intentional purpose and was made use of in order to show His love and to teach people the Gospel. To do this He was willing to be looked down on by Simon the Pharisee. Jesus quietly endured the arrogance of His host anticipating the opportunity to show him the truth of his spiritual condition. That opportunity came when a woman known to be a sinner in that town entered Simon’s house uninvited and then approached Jesus as He reclined at the table. Looking down on Him, she quickly fell to her knees and poured out her love and thankfulness by washing His feet with her tears, drying them with her hair, and anointing them with her perfume. Simon’s reaction showed how empty his heart was and how his self-righteousness had deceived him into looking down on others. Still, Jesus would not condemn Simon. Instead, He patiently instructed him and revealed the love, grace, and mercy of our God who looked down on our hopeless situation and sent His Son to bring us hope, peace, and life through His forgiveness.

Audio file of the sermon "Looking Down on Jesus."