St. Luke 23:35-43

And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!” The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” There was also an inscription over him, “This is the King of the Jews.”

One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.” And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

Jesus is on the cross in our text. Kind of surprising, seeing as how we aren’t in the Lenten Season. That’s when we usually talk about Jesus on the cross, right? But we are in the brief number of Sundays at the end of the church’s year (new year starts December 3rd); they’re those that focus on the end of times, end of our lives, the Judgment. We’ll stand before God in that time with confidence because of Christ’s sacrifice for us, His having on a cross made the payment that bought our forgiveness. So, He’s on that cross in our text for this morning.

I want us to rewind a little from that this morning. I want to rewind to Him in the Garden of Gethsemane (something like 24 hrs. earlier). See Him there, just after the Last Supper with His disciples, off on His own, having left His closest ones in a nearby location to keep watch. He’s praying.

The thing we think of most often about that time in the garden, though, is that He’s…agonizing. The sweat that became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground, as St. Luke writes (Luke 22:44). That’s what often comes to our minds when we think of that particular garden.

Jesus is in the crisis of crises. Soon it’ll all begin—everything His earthly life has been pointing toward. He’ll be arrested, manhandled by soldiers on the way to the High Priestly court. He’ll endure a sham of a trial with liars brought in to witness against Him. In the end, He’ll provide the necessary evidence to convict Him (it’s why He’s here, after all; He won’t let them fail in what they’re trying to do to Him). Of course, finally, He’ll be on the cross, as we see in the text.

But we’re not there yet; we’ve rewound to the Garden, the previous evening. How does Jesus respond in this crisis of crises? We know it is that for Him, because His sweat is like great drops of blood falling down to the ground. We know that He says, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me”; He prays that sort of thing three times. He isn’t blithely approaching the cross and grave; He isn’t sauntering toward My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? It’s hitting Him like we would expect it to be hitting someone. But what does it look like for the one perfect man when He’s put into this situation?

Last week we talked about Pharisees and Sadducees challenging Jesus to prove it, to demonstrate that He really is Who He says He is, by giving them a sign from heaven. Similarly in this text (though with much higher stakes), rulers, soldiers, and even one of the criminals being crucified alongside Jesus, do the same; they challenge Him to prove it, to demonstrate that He’s really the Christ of God, His Chosen One. He should prove it with the sign of saving Himself.

The criminal adds that He should save him too, while He’s at it.

That’s what I want to talk a little more about this morning—this criminal’s moment with Jesus in our text. It goes by so quickly, that hardly ever is anything really made of it. It isn’t even just his big moment; it’s kind of tacked on to what’s already been said by others there. The rulers and the soldiers have done this thing, and…oh, yeah…this criminal has kind of done it too. We go right past it, like the writer does.

But he’s in a different position than they are. For him, it’s personal. He’s up there gasping for breath. If something amazing doesn’t happen pretty shorty, he’s a goner. Those on the ground are just mocking. They neither believe that Jesus can do what they’re challenging Him to do, nor do they want Him to. They’re going to see this through to its conclusion, and then back to their lives.

It’s different for this criminal. His mocking challenge isn’t merely, Save yourself; it’s, Save yourself and us! More than mockery, his version of the statement amounts to a very unfaithful kind of prayer (which is a sort of mockery). It’s the kind of prayer the apostle James is talking about when he says that a person should ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. Such a person, he says: must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord (1:6,7).

Finally, this criminal is saying to the LORD: if you really are who you say you are, you will deliver me from this crisis. He feels completely helpless. He recognizes there isn’t anything He can do to get himself out of this pickle he’s in (that he deserves to be in, according to the other criminal). And, of course, what is he doing if not doubting? He’s adding his voice to the voices of all the other scoffers. He’s saying something in his desperation; but certainly not trusting in the grace of God, not putting himself in the hands of the one he knows will save him. He’s in a crisis, right? The worst kind, in fact (the life and death kind). And,

as far as He’s concerned, Jesus will be able to prove Himself by delivering him from this crisis. His thinking isn’t really any different from the rulers, the soldiers, or any other scoffers.

And the reason we talk about this criminal so much this morning, is because his “prayer” might tend to remind you…of some of your own prayers. His perspective might feel familiar. His way of dealing with being in a crisis might look eerily similar to how you yourself have dealt with crises. Has God ever had to prove Himself to you? Has your perspective ever been, that if God doesn’t relieve your suffering; if he doesn’t rescue you from whatever situation you’re in, He must either be unable to do so, or He must not care? Either He’s incompetent, or He’s a monster.

We’re looking at ourselves in the Law’s mirror, now, aren’t we? We’re seeing that doubt of God’s ability, of His mercy, even of His existence isn’t limited to criminals on crosses; it demonstrates itself in Christians in church pews, too. It has demonstrated itself in your own life, too, and mine. We say with St. Paul: Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death (Romans 7:24)?

Paul’s answer is, Jesus Christ. And it isn’t hard to see why. The reason we rewound 24 hrs. in the beginning of our conversation, to look at Jesus in the garden the previous evening, is because there we see what the one perfect man does in His own crisis of crises.

It isn’t that the crisis isn’t real for Him like it is for us. He’s a real human like we are. His emotions are human emotions. Even human helplessness is on display for Him in that moment because He has put aside His godly power, taking on our helplessness.

But look how He’s different from that criminal on the cross in His desperate moment: He doesn’t scoff or demand a sign that the Father still cares about Him. He doesn’t say to the Father, You will demonstrate your care of Me, your love for Me by delivering me from this crisis. Instead, He says, Your will be done (Matthew 26:42). That’s what the one perfect Man does that all of us have failed to do.

On our bulletin cover we have the words: Death’s Conqueror. He’s its conqueror in our gospel lesson as the one raising to life the ruler’s dead daughter. That’s one of the things He did in His earthly ministry to demonstrate Himself to be God in human flesh.

We see Him as death’s conqueror in another—and even more important—way in our text. The other criminal with Him on the cross puts away his own earlier mocking, to finally pray a much different prayer than his fellow criminal. After rebuking that other one’s continued mocking, he puts Himself in Jesus hands. He doesn’t need any sign. He’s not asking for a rescue from this cross that he deserves. He just wants Jesus to acknowledge him as one of His own in the kingdom. That’s what he means by remember me. He means, tell ‘em I’m with You. And then, Death’s Conqueror pronounces in response to his confession of faith: “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.”

It has to be the case, because he has put himself in the hands of Death’s Conqueror. In those hands a person finds forgiveness for his sins. There he finds the eternal inheritance prepared for God’s people regardless of all the wrong they’ve done in this world. In those hands you find the same mercy. You wear the garment of the righteous one Who has paid your debt and set you free. God be praised. Amen.

Other Lessons For This Day:

Isaiah 51:9-16

Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord; awake, as in days of old, the generations of long ago. Was it not you who cut Rahab in pieces, who pierced the dragon? Was it not you who dried up the sea, the waters of the great deep, who made the depths of the sea a way for the redeemed to pass over? And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing;
everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away.

“I, I am he who comforts you; who are you that you are afraid of man who dies, of the son of man who is made like grass, and have forgotten the Lord, your Maker, who stretched out the heavens and laid the foundations of the earth, and you fear continually all the day because of the wrath of the oppressor, when he sets himself to destroy? And where is the wrath of the oppressor? He who is bowed down shall speedily be released; he shall not die and go down to the pit, neither shall his bread be lacking. I am the Lord your God, who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar— the Lord of hosts is his name. And I have put my words in your mouth and covered you in the shadow of my hand, establishing the heavens and laying the foundations of the earth, and saying to Zion, ‘You are my people.’”

Colossians 1:9-14

From the day we heard, we have not ceased to pray for you, asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of his will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him: bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God; being strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy; giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

St. Matthew 9:18-26

While he was saying these things to them, behold, a ruler came in and knelt before him, saying, “My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her, and she will live.” And Jesus rose and followed him, with his disciples. And behold, a woman who had suffered from a discharge of blood for twelve years came up behind him and touched the fringe of his garment, for she said to herself, “If I only touch his garment, I will be made well.” Jesus turned, and seeing her he said, “Take heart, daughter; your faith has made you well.” And instantly the woman was made well. And when Jesus came to the ruler's house and saw the flute players and the crowd making a commotion, he said, “Go away, for the girl is not dead but sleeping.” And they laughed at him. But when the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took her by the hand, and the girl arose. And the report of this went through all that district.

St. Matthew 18:1-10

At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

“Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.

“Woe to the world for temptations to sin! For it is necessary that temptations come, but woe to the one by whom the temptation comes! And if your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life crippled or lame than with two hands or two feet to be thrown into the eternal fire. And if your eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life with one eye than with two eyes to be thrown into the hell of fire.

“See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.

September 29th is St. Michael’s Day in the church year. It’s named after the angel from our epistle lesson, the one fighting, along with other angels, against the dragon or devil when that angel was expelled from heaven (Rev. 12:7-12). Angels are mentioned also in our Old Testament lesson—ascending and descending on a ladder between earth and heaven in Jacob’s dream.

We take the opportunity to remind ourselves on this Sunday, of these mostly unseen beings of God’s creation, whose purpose is to serve for the sake of those who are to inherit salvation (Hebrews 1:14). The writer to the Hebrews, who says that, is talking about you. You’re the ones who are inheriting salvation, and for whose sakes the angels serve. Kind of an interesting thought.

Along with this reminder about the holy angels, we have an important lesson this morning about humility. Makes sense, seeing as how St. Luke’s gospel contains even another instance of these disciples disputing amongst themselves, who is to be considered the greatest among them (22:24). Whenever whatever it is that caused the devil to be thrown out of heaven is discussed, sinful pride is what’s talked about; that’s what got the devil out of heaven (Did he even ask himself, Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, suggesting himself as the question’s answer?). In a lot of ways, sinful pride is the thing he used to tempt the first people (aren’t I just as wise as God; is what he wanted Eve to be asking herself?). It’s what he used to tempt Jesus in the wilderness as well (of course he failed in that tempting; Jesus bearing up under it, resisting any sinning).

Look how Jesus responds to His disciples’ prideful question in our text: he calls a child over there, and puts the child right in the midst of them. You can imagine the looks on their faces when you remember that just beyond this occasion, when people are bringing their children to Jesus, the disciples will be rebuking them (these parents)—telling them to get these kids out of here.

Stop wasting Jesus’ time with them, they will mean by it (19:13). They aren’t important like we are, they’ll also mean. Having brought this child into their midst, then, of course, Jesus says something shocking to them: unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. And then, He answers their question in a similarly shocking way: Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.

It can be presumed, that each of them had expected to hear his own name given as the answer to the question: you, Peter, are the greatest; you, Matthew…; you, Bartholomew…; you, John…

No, no, says Jesus. You’ve got it all wrong. Who’s the greatest—the most important? As far as God is concerned, it’s a child like this. You know, this one you wouldn’t give a second thought to? This one whose parents you’d tell to get him out of here because he isn’t important? God considers this child so important He guards him with His angels.

And it isn’t that children aren’t sinners like everyone else; that isn’t the point Jesus is making. It’s just that He knows His disciples tend to think of themselves as more important than children. That’ll be the easiest way to make the point about their pride. He takes the type of person they’re most likely to look down on to show them this sinful thing they tend to do. But the fact is, they’re proud like that toward others too (who aren’t children).

You can relate to this, can’t you? After all, you’re better than the idiot on the road who doesn’t know how to drive, than the person on the other end of the phone who can’t speak clearly, than the one on the other side of the political aisle who doesn’t perceive reality correctly, than the one at the mall who doesn’t dress appropriately.

God values the ones you tend to look down on; that’s a big part of the lesson in today’s text. And when you’re looking down on them, you’re forgetting your own worthlessness before God that is only redeemed out of His mercy. Pride tells us that our sins aren’t anything to be so concerned about. Who’s God to tell me how to be? Sinful pride is behind that kind of thinking (remember: Eve became convinced, that what she thought, was as important as what God thought).

Jesus warns in this text, that there’s a lot of danger ahead in that—especially for anyone spreading that poisonous kind of thing to other people. Better to have died before having accomplished that, He says. He warns bluntly against this pride that would cause a person to think lightly of God’s commands. Better to be without a foot that’s the cause of sin than to be whole in hell. Better to be without an eye that’s the cause of sin than to have perfect vision in hell.

Perfect humility before God is what He requires of you. With it, you wouldn’t ever look down on other people, thinking you’re better than them. You wouldn’t have ever demonstrated wickedness, recommending it to others. You wouldn’t have thought lightly of God’s commands, wouldn’t have turned aside…become worthless, as St. Paul quotes in his letter to the Romans (3:12). When he says that, he’s saying that you and all people have become what is only fit for everlasting punishment.

That’s why Jesus’ lesson about humility in our text is so important. When He talks about a child-like faith, He’s talking about one that doesn’t stand defiantly and insist on its own righteousness. To turn and become like a child is to have one’s hands out to humbly receive God’s grace.

The grace comes by means of Jesus, Whose own unimpeachable humility stands in the place of your pride. It can be demonstrated by a prophecy about Him from Isaiah (53:7): He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth. At any point He could have put a stop to these actions that were leading to His crucifixion. When St. Peter took out his sword to defend Him in the garden, He told him to put it away. He wasn’t here to overcome anyone; He was here to be overcome.

…he poured out his soul to death
    and was numbered with the transgressors;
yet he bore the sin of many,
    and makes intercession for the transgressors (Isaiah 53:12).

—more from Isaiah.

Fitting, we mention the garden incident on a Sunday in which we remember the holy angels. Jesus’ response to Peter had included this reasoning: Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels? (Matthew 26:53). Jesus had that available to Him. In refusing it He was humbly obeying the Father’s will that He bear the sins of the world, that He be held responsible for yours and everyone else’s sinful pride, and every other form of disobedience.

So, you’re forgiven of it all. Jesus allowed Himself to be expelled from heaven over your sinful pride, so that in rising from death He could enable you to rise from it. You will be there eternally, made righteous in Jesus, made righteous in the One about Whom the angels sang at His birth, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men,” the One Whom angels attended following His temptation in the wilderness, and in His anguish in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Those same ones attend you in this moment, and throughout your life. They bear you up on their hands lest you strike your foot against a stone, the Psalmist writes (91:10). God considers you that important, that He guards you with His angels. They serve for your sake as one who through faith in Christ inherits salvation. God be praised. Amen.

Matthew 13:44-50

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls, who, on finding one pearl of great value, went and sold all that he had and bought it.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net that was thrown into the sea and gathered fish of every kind. When it was full, men drew it ashore and sat down and sorted the good into containers but threw away the bad. So it will be at the end of the age. The angels will come out and separate the evil from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.

Every so often, we hear of a great master work of art discovered in some unlikely place. A picture has been hanging on the wall of someone’s house (maybe even for generations in a family). Now, the person has become aware that it is fantastically valuable.

There was a story like this a couple of years ago. A lost Rembrandt painting from around 1632 had been discovered after it fell off the wall of a country home in Italy, and was taken to a man to be repaired. From the article:

(The restorer’s words) “This is the moment [discovering this lost master work having been covered in varnish] in which we must overcome the vertigo capable of making us sink into that wonderful sense of belonging to history. It is a thrill that has no equal, which vibrates until it drags you into an unstoppable impulse of morbid curiosity. I don’t fight it and I let myself be carried away by the spell.”

…okay. Anyway, this idea of having become unexpectedly aware of a treasure of unimaginable worth in one’s possession.

The Trip Home

The trip home with the object must have been quite a bit different from the one there. Having somewhat casually tossed it into the backseat of the car, perhaps without any sort of protective wrapping—now (with this new appraisal), it is in whatever one uses to properly transport a very valuable painting. The transporting materials are worth significantly more that the person thought the painting was worth on the way there. He shall heretofore treasure this object, taking out an insurance policy on it, placing it in his home much more carefully so as to avoid the possibility of any further drops or other dangers to this precious object. It is the most valuable thing he has. Protecting it: his new top priority.

A Couple of Parables

Jesus tells a couple of parables in the early part of our text, of a man’s finding of a hidden treasure in a field, and of the discovery of a pearl of great price. In each case the discoverer considers the discovery to be worthy of being made his new top priority. He sells all he has, that he might have it. Nothing he has acquired for himself previously is as important as this discovery he has made. He gives it all up in exchange.

Jesus tells these parables. He says the kingdom of heaven is like them. He’s emphasizing in these parables, the value of what has been found, and the priority that has been placed on it. Something priceless has been acquired in exchange for everything else the person had.

A Third Parable

There is a third parable in our text—the one about the net in which is gathered every kind of fish in the sea to be sorted. While in the first parables there was nothing but light (the discovery of a fortune, and a person’s acquiring of it), in this there is a darkness. The kingdom of heaven is also like certain of the ones gathered being separated out to be thrown away—thrown into a furnace, even, a place of weeping and gnashing of teeth. Of all that are gathered, the good are kept; the bad are discarded.

Ourselves In The Parable?

Our first instinct might be to imagine ourself the one finding the treasure in the field, or the pearl of great price. Since Jesus says, the kingdom of heaven is like… we go ahead and consider the treasure and the pearl to be that kingdom, and us the one having valued it so highly, that we gave up everything else in order to have it.

Let that sink in for a second. Maybe you’re already sensing the darkness that’s looming.

Having put yourself into the parable as the treasure-finder, you start thinking about the discrepancy between you and these: sold everything in exchange for the treasure—guys. They could never be you, could they (considering that the treasure represents God’s kingdom)? You look back and think about the regrets you have when it comes to your devotion to God’s kingdom, the opportunities you’ve missed to treasure God and His kingdom that greatly. You think about the spiritual danger you’ve put yourself in during times in which you were caught up in sin of some kind (like Paul talks about in the epistle lesson), or just didn’t have the time of day for it for one reason or another. God has required devotion like that—the kind that places highest value on the kingdom (it’s what the very first commandment is about (the “greatest Commandment”, Jesus calls it); you haven’t fulfilled it.

So, you might be asking yourself, Am I to be considered among those bad ones, who’ll be separated out—not for God’s kingdom, but for punishment?

St. Paul to the Philippians:

But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. 8 Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ (3:7-8).

Paul’s words help us to put these parables a little more in perspective. It can’t work for us to put ourselves into them as ones who accomplish the getting of the kingdom through our unflinching devotion. We aren’t capable of it. It requires perfection we don’t have. We fail at prioritizing it as the most important thing. We may try. We recognize its importance, but see agonizingly clearly, that we fall short.

Christ In The Parables

In Paul’s estimation, Christ has done everything. He has made Paul aware that nothing he has (and he’s had a lot: wealth, power, the respect of people) none of it is of any worth if he does not have Christ. He has caused Paul to let everything else drop to the side, and to repent whenever he has failed to do so. Paul doesn’t come out in that quote as one with proud accomplishments, but rather as one who has received the grace of God in Christ.

By looking at what happens in the parables in a slightly different way, we can consider what it is to know Christ in the way Paul expresses.

He found you. And He exchanged everything He had for you. Though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich (2 Cor. 8:9). Though you were hardly any treasure (dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air (Ephesians 2:1), Jesus put the highest value on you. Again, it can be said (as in those passages), that He exchanged everything He had for you. This one whose life exhibited in every second of it, the correct prioritization of God’s kingdom humbly allowed Himself to be punished as if He were the only offender. And all of it was so that when the angels come and separate the evil from the righteous, you are found among the righteous!

What if we are to put Christ into the illustration of the master work painting found hiding in plain sight? We said the trip back with the newly appraised item was different from the trip there, with the person now protecting his newly found treasure. Think of what happened in your Baptism. Through God’s Sacrament of water and the Word you were made precious; you were given an entirely new appraisal—if you will. Jesus brought you home with Him—not casually, as if you were some item of common value, but shielded from harm by none other than the Holy Spirit, Who wraps you in the protections of God’s Word and Supper—treating you as if you are his possession of greatest value, His top priority.

That isn’t someone who gets separated out to be thrown away. That’s one of those who are gathered into the kingdom. It’s one of the forgiven ones who is connected to Christ through faith. The kingdom of heaven is like that. Praise be to God. Amen.

St. John 8:31:35

So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” They answered him, “We are offspring of Abraham and have never been enslaved to anyone. How is it that you say, ‘You will become free’?”

Jesus answered them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever.

The writer of our text, St. John, starts out talking about the Jews who’ve believed Jesus. He’s distinguishing them from ones he’s just been talking about, who haven’t believed Him. To those, Jesus had said, they would not find Him where He was going, that they’d die in their sin. When He said that, they’d wondered if He was going to kill Himself—if that’s what He meant that He was going somewhere (demonstrates how little they were understanding Him).

But, if on some level they were getting His message, that they were not right with God like they thought they were, it sure must have been news to them. People like us aren’t on the outs with God, don’t go to hell, they would have been inclined to think to themselves. And by people like us, they would have meant offspring of Abraham (like even the believing ones say in our text). Along with that, they would have meant people who more or less live according to the laws of Abraham’s people. So, Abraham’s offspring, law-abiding—“good”—people.

At issue in our text, then: What does it mean to be a good person? What does it mean to be the kind of person who’ll be accepted in the Day of Judgment, and not cast aside out of the kingdom?

St. Paul’s words in our epistle lesson are of interest in this discussion. He distinguishes between the covenants of the letter and of the Spirit.

God had made a covenant with His Old Testament people, at Mt. Sinai. He’d said He would be their God if they’d keep His Commandments. Simple enough. But in the end—people being people—, it really just demonstrated the fact that sinners can’t keep covenants—at least not that kind (but that doesn’t keep them from thinking they can). People have a nature that hears what God says, and then gets busy trying to find a way around it.

Having demonstrated peoples’ inability to keep a law-based covenant (a covenant of the letter, that spells out what’s required), God had presented a new one, based on something else. This new covenant didn’t depend on sinful man’s ability to do anything; it only depended on what God would do for him.

That’s why St. Paul says this covenant of the Spirit gives life. This one isn’t saying, Keep the Commandments and you’ll have eternal life; it’s saying, knowing you can’t, God has provided another way for you to have it.

In Jesus’ answer to the people in our text He’s really just kind of explaining the futility of the covenant of the letter. He says, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. And He makes the further point: slaves don’t inherit anything; sons do. So, every sinner needs to have an answer to the question, What happens about my sin? If I’m a sinner, and if sinners are slaves who don’t inherit, then how am I to have what everyone wants, which is to inherit eternal life? Being Abraham’s descendants doesn’t have anything to do with it; having an answer to sin, does.

It isn’t only those to whom Jesus is speaking in our text who need an answer to this question; it’s you, too, and me. We can’t inherit God’s kingdom through the covenant of the letter, through being good enough in ourselves to earn it (to even think that for a second is to commit one of the sins that disqualifies us from it).

And it’s a tempting thought. It’s the way our nature thinks. We look at other people, and we compare ourselves to them. We think to ourselves: I’m one of God’s people. I’m going to look pretty good standing in front of Him, compared to a lot of other people. Again, your natural way of thinking. But, Everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin, Jesus says in our text. And, just like in this world slaves don’t inherit anything, so also, slaves to sin (who are remaining in that status) don’t inherit God’s kingdom, don’t inherit eternal life. Something has to happen to change your status. Something has to happen about your sins, that remove as the barrier, that frees you from their bondage.

That’s why Jesus is saying what He’s saying to the people in our text: “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” The Word Jesus is talking about is really the covenant of the Spirit. It’s the alternative that God has offered because sinners can’t keep the other covenant, can’t keep the covenant of the letter. The truth that, in its knowing sets a person free, is the nature of this alternative covenant, this new covenant, this covenant of the Spirit—what it is. It’s Christ.

Paul calls it the covenant of the Spirit because the Spirit is the one who makes known to you the good news in it.

He made it known to you in Baptism—making a believer out of an unbeliever (if that part was still necessary). Furthermore, He marked you as His own dear child, connecting you in a special way to Christ, your Savior. If the Spirit had already made you a believer through hearing the Word (like many who came to John for Baptism), then the second part of it is still true. In either case, the Spirit has worked powerfully by God’s grace, to free the slave, to make an heir of eternal life out of one who formerly didn’t stand to inherit. And it didn’t have anything to do with your ancestry in this world, or with some sort of meritorious accomplishment on your part. It didn’t depend on sinful man’s ability to do anything; it only depended on what God has done for him.

So, we had that question this morning: What does it mean to be a good person, the kind that’ll be accepted in the Day of Judgment?

Having some earthly ancestral connection (a’la those who said they were descendants of Abraham) isn’t the answer, because that doesn’t address what happens about a person’s sin.

And, by the way, it isn’t as far-fetched as you might think, that that would be an issue, also, among us—thinking that some connection like that makes a difference at the gate of heaven. Hasn’t it been tempting to think that your own strong faith could sort of be extended to family member, or a friend—the one having faith translating into the other having it, having what’s necessary to be with God in His kingdom. That that isn’t the case is demonstrated in this text, too, because, again, the issue is how each person’s sin is taken care of, how it’s solved that a sinner (therefore a slave to sin) doesn’t inherit God’s kingdom. So, being acceptable there, isn’t based on ancestral connections or any other connections like that.

Rather, Christ’s Words in our text: “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.” With those words Jesus is emphasizing the new covenant that God has made with sinners because the other kind could never possibly work. He’s emphasizing the covenant of the Spirit—the faith that the Spirit brings to a person through the Word and Sacraments.

That faith is what truly makes you Jesus’ disciple. It’s what addresses your problem of sin. You don’t have to wonder if you’re a good enough person for God’s kingdom.

Your being considered a good person has entirely to do with your connection to Christ—the only truly good person, the only one never guilty of anything, the only one able to stand before God on His own merits. Connected to Him, you’re forgiven of sins.

You’re truly His disciple through faith, abiding in His Word. You know the truth; through faith you are a son—an heir, you’re free. Thanks be to God. Amen.

St. Mark 12:41-44

And [Jesus] sat down opposite the treasury and watched the people putting money into the offering box. Many rich people put in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him and said to them, “Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the offering box. For they all contributed out of their abundance, but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on.”

One of my memories of childhood is the movie that came out in 1978, when I was about eight years old: Grease. What really caught our (my siblings’ and my) attention were the songs that were being played on the radio even before the movie was released. One of those songs, Hopelessly Devoted to You, had a line in it that I never fully understood as an eight year old (though I knew it well; often happens like that). The line was,

But now, there’s nowhere to hide since you’ve pushed my love aside,

I’m out of my head, hopelessly devoted to you.

Fairly standard movie-musical type line, right?

But, if we want to get philosophical about it (and I do), just think of what that person is expressing. So hopelessly devoted is she, that there is nowhere to hide since she’s been rejected. She’d begun the song, saying, Mine is not the first heart broken, My eyes are not the first to cry. She has been one hundred percent committed, with no emotional plan B. She’d thrown all caution to the wind (it’s as romantic as romance can be, right?). Now, there is nowhere to hide.

And presumably, she has put herself in this position willingly (even gladly), because she has loved and trusted this object of her affections so deeply. She’s hopelessly devoted. And of course, it was—at this point, anyway—all for naught. Her heart is broken; she’s in tears. She walked off the proverbial ledge in trust; but the one in whom she’d trusted didn’t catch her.

This is going somewhere, but you’re going to have to wait for it.

Jesus had just before our text, said something about widows, some of the most vulnerable and needy people in that society. He’d mentioned them in passing, really. The way these widows tended to be treated by the powerful scribes was sort of a highlight reel of that Jewish leadership group’s infamy. They would prey upon these women who’d lost their income-earning and property-owning husbands, targeting them for a certain sort of foreclosure, leaving them destitute in the street (abhorrent to the LORD, as expressed in Old Testament law, which always protected vulnerable people, including widows).

Having just talked about widows, Jesus turns in our text, to pointing out the action of a certain one, as He and His disciples observe people putting their contributions into the Temple treasury. While rich people have put in large sums of money, Jesus considers this poor widow’s offering of two small copper coins (equaling about a penny) to be a more substantial one. It’s because of what it represents to her.

Now, it should be said, that this isn’t a bashing the rich type message. St. Mark isn’t criticizing the rich folks who are putting in large sums (Jesus isn’t either). They’ve been given much, and are able, then, to contribute much, which they’re doing. Isn’t any questioning of their faithfulness in the matter. In fact, we should presume that their contributions are faithfully given, and are pleasing to the LORD. We aren’t in any way told otherwise. No point is really being made about them at all by the writer, or by Jesus.

This is about the widow. The others are ordinary in their giving (nothing wrong with it); Jesus points her out because in her giving, she’s extraordinary. It isn’t measured by the amount (which is almost nothing).

Her gift is extraordinary in its commitment. We might say she has thrown all caution to the wind, she has no plan B. If we need one more cliche’, we might say, she’s all in. We might even say she would have nowhere to hide were the object of her devotion to push her love aside. She out of her poverty has put in everything she had, all she had to live on—Jesus says. At least in that moment, in giving that gift, she has demonstrated herself to be hopelessly devoted to the LORD. This is an extraordinary offering because her hope is entirely in the LORD. She trusts implicitly, that He will provide for her needs even though in having given this offering she has nothing left.

There’s a line in the book of Proverbs:

My son, give me your heart,
    and let your eyes observe my ways (23:26).

GIVE ME YOUR HEART—With a statement like that, the LORD is asking for hopeless devotion to Him, isn’t He (if we define it as devotion with no plan B, devotion that acknowledges that it directed elsewhere would be for naught).

That’s hard devotion to accomplish, isn’t it? This text isn’t really about offerings; it’s about commitment to the LORD. But it isn’t hard to see why Jesus chooses to teach this lesson using offerings as an example. What we’re willing to do with the things we have demonstrates our commitment, doesn’t it? It demonstrates what we believe about the LORD.

What if I were that widow, you might ask yourself, and gave everything I had to live on [nobody’s asking you to do that; we’re speaking hypothetically]? What if I were hopelessly devoted like that, having put myself out there with no plan B to the one Who says, Give me your heart? Would it have all been for naught? Would I find myself heartbroken, in tears, because the object of my devotion wasn’t worthy of it?

You’re here because you believe the answer to those questions is no, of course. You’ve believed it since your Baptism, or since through God’s Word the Holy Spirit planted faith in your heart that knows God’s grace toward you, His pledge to care for you.

Even to your old age I am he, and to gray hairs I will carry you. I have made, and I will bear; I will carry and will save (Isaiah 46:4).

That’s who God is to You; that’s the one in Whom you’ve believed.

But that belief hasn’t always been reflected in your commitment, has it? It’s been hard to be that confident. The devil has gotten involved in your thinking; and he has said, Can you really afford to trust like that? You’ve gotta protect yourself! You’ve got a lot to lose.

So, you’ve been guarded in your commitment. You’ve had the LORD Who has given you everything you have, asking you to commit yourself to Him (giving Him your heart); and you have responded: I can do a little, but I gotta have a plan B. I’ve gotta be in control of what happens.

This may have manifested itself in your life in a moment of crisis, a moment in which something unexpected has happened that put you under great stress. You thought you had everything covered; but now it turns out, you didn’t.

The difference between faith and unbelief is often demonstrated in those moments, isn’t it? What will be your reaction in that very difficult moment? Will it be to despair, as if there’s no hope to be had, as if the only way out of this very difficult situation is that you’re going to come up with some ungodly solution to the problem?

And the rest of it might go something like this: God is just going to have to understand that I’m going to have to do what I have to do. After all, He left me dangling out here like this. That’s where the devil wants your thinking to be at a time like that. And no doubt, at times—at least for a moment, it’s where it has been.

Jesus commends the widow’s perspective. She has almost nothing; but what she has she might as well put in the LORD’s hands because He is the One Who is going to care for her needs. Were she to insist that she will make her own way, then what she has will never be enough. But when she puts herself in His hands, she’s in the hands of the one against Whom nothing and no one could possibly prevail.

Consider also, the tax collector in our Gospel lesson. He’s like the woman in our text in this way: he comes humbly before God, almost as if to say, I have nothing. I bring nothing to you but a sinful heart. I ask for your mercy. The Pharisee thinks he has something he’s bringing before God; he really doesn’t, and what he thinks he has will never be enough. But the tax collector recognizes himself to be entirely in the LORD’s hands. Why would he want to be anywhere else? His committing of himself to the LORD is merely motivated by the LORD’s own love and sacrifice toward him. His faith is in God’s own Son Who is unfailing in His commitment, demonstrating it in a sinless life, and in obedience even to death on a cross for sinners.

The hymn writer puts it this way:

The Sinless Son of God must die in sadness;

The sinful child of man may live in gladness;

Man forfeited his life and is acquitted—

God is committed.

He is committed to you! That’s what the forgiving of your sins in the blood of His Son demonstrates. In considering there to be nowhere to hide in your devotion to the LORD, you are in the place to have the most confidence. No plan B is necessary. In His hands there is nothing to fear. God be praised. Amen.

St. Matthew 16:24-28

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Or what shall a man give in return for his soul? For the Son of Man is going to come with his angels in the glory of his Father, and then he will repay each person according to what he has done. Truly, I say to you, there are some standing here who will not taste death until they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.”

In our text it says, God is going to repay each person according to what he has done. Right away, your radar is up, right; because every Sunday you hear the message, that your salvation isn’t dependent on your works, on what you do? We know all of us have done evil, and can’t claim any saving works of our own. Rather, salvation is dependent on what God has done on our behalf.

St. Paul wrote it like this to the Romans: For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law (3:28), and like this to the Galatians: a person is not justified by works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ (2:16).

Those are the things Martin Luther rediscovered in the Bible some 500 years ago in the Reformation, that changed the whole direction of the Christian church, right? It restored it to what Christ had intended. That’s the truth of Scripture regarding the basis of us sinners being saved.

Couldn’t really be any plainer. Works of the Law—our accomplishing goodness in the things we do—doesn’t save us; God’s grace in the goodness of His Son Who died for us—our believing of that, our faith in being forgiven because of Jesus Christ—does save us.

And Paul writes those truths for the comfort of his readers. He wants them to be relieved, knowing their guilt is rightly laid at the cross of the one Who already was punished for it. They need not agonize over their sins any longer. You need not agonize over your sins any longer.

So…what does Jesus mean when He says God is going to repay each person according to what he has done? Not being justified on the basis of works—on the one hand/repaid according to what he has done—on the other; don’t those two things contradict each other?

Those words what he has done are the puzzler, aren’t they? They appear to have a tremendous amount of weight; we need to examine what they mean. We’ll do that here this morning.

A couple of important things had happened just before our text. First of all: St. Peter had given a powerful confession of faith in Jesus—proclaiming Him to be the Christ, the Son of the living God. He was saying he believed Jesus is the one God had promised to send as Savior, that He’s the anointed one, the one whose sacrifice becomes righteousness for all sinners.

Jesus had commended him on the confession, and said the truth of that confession is the basis of the Church He was building (Mt. 16:16-17).

But then, that same Peter had demonstrated the frailty of a sinner. When Jesus had said He’d have to suffer and die (and rise) in order for God’s will to be done, for His kingdom to be built, Peter had balked at it. It wasn’t happening, he’d said. And when he’d said it, it was in that I don’t care who knows it kind of way. It was almost as if to say, it isn’t happening no matter what God has in mind. Well…

Where Jesus had commended Peter’s confession in the previous paragraph, in this, He’d rebuked his lack of faith. “Get behind me, Satan!”—He’d said. “You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man (22-23).” He would speak similarly to Peter in the Garden at His arrest, after Peter’d cut off a soldier’s ear in His defense: “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me (John 18:11)?” He didn’t want to be defended; this was what He was here to do!

Peter’s mistake on both occasions was his thinking (in those moments), that what happens in this world, in this life, to this body are the most important thing, are the thing to be protected and preserved at all costs. Thinking this way would come to be a real hindrance to him.

“Though they all fall away because of you, [he would later go on to boast] I will never fall away (26:33).” But then, when it was tested, in the high priest’s courtyard, in terror over being exposed as one of Jesus’ followers, Peter would choose to save his life in this world, denying in exchange, his Savior.

He hadn’t thought about it a lot; it was happening in a hot moment. But what it amounted to was monumental when you stood back and looked at it. It amounted to him trading his eternal soul for this body, this life, this world. Of course, he wept over it afterwards, and repented, and was restored to Jesus.

We can see why Jesus would follow Peter’s statement, this shall never happen to you, with what opens our text. He’s teaching His disciple whom He knows has this weakness that would lead to a moment like that, when He says: “If anyone would come after me [in other words, wanting eternal life, wanting to be with God in His kingdom], let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul? Were those very words (among others) coming back to him as he wept outside the high priest’s courtyard? Quite possibly.

It isn’t hard to understand Peter’s perspective, though, is it? This recently retired fisherman was used to dealing with hard realities—things he could see and feel and touch in this world—like a net full of fish, and all of the hard work that went into it. Once, when it hadn’t been happening; nothing had been caught all night long by these profession fishermen, and Jesus had performed a miracle that filled Peter’s and his companions’ two boats, Peter’d been faced with a supernatural reality beyond the concrete one he’d known; and it was too much for him in that moment. He’d said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord (Luke 5:8).”

We’d started out talking about the statement Jesus makes in our text, about God repay[ing] each person according to what he has done. And it occurs to us, that our instinct—even as believers—to cling to this world, and this life, and this body might just have something to do with the way we think about our sins.

Peter’d been put in a position out there on the Lake, in which God’s eternal kingdom couldn’t be thought of as theoretical anymore.

Isn’t that the way you sometimes think about it; as something we talk about, but that doesn’t seem as real as what we can see and feel and touch in this world?

Peter’d been hearing Jesus talk about about God’s eternal kingdom; but he’d had his feet planted pretty firmly in the soil of this world. Any time things seemed to be approaching eternal reality he’d braced himself against it, opting for what he’d known in this world instead. But having seen, now, the clear evidence of it out there on the lake, seen God in front of him doing His thing, seen for sure that there’s more than this,  it brought him to the quick conclusion, that his sins had real consequences. And it made him shudder, thinking: if God fills two boats with fish where there’d been none, then He certainly sees through me. He certainly knows my sinful thoughts, and the things I’ve said to people, the things I’ve done that other people don’t know about, even.

If you’ve ever thought about facing God on Judgment Day, and wondering what He might say about your sins, wondering whether your salvation is a done deal or not, then you know how Peter was feeling in that moment.

We talk so much this morning about that other text, because it helps us see what Jesus is getting at in this text. Peter has such a strong tendency (like we all have), to cling to this world, and this life, and this body, that it endangers his soul. It endangers the thing that really lasts forever, what follows this temporary existence.

It’s important we talk about what it means that you are connected to Christ through faith.

When St. Paul writes that in being baptized into Christ [you] have put on Christ (Galatians 3:27), he means that when God looks at you, He sees Christ’s perfection. He sees it because it’s what He wanted to see.

But it couldn’t have been accomplished just by Him wanting it. A payment needed to be made for your sins. So, He made it. He made the payment by putting your sins on Christ, by punishing Him for them. Those animals being sacrificed for the peoples’ sins in the Old Testament are a picture of it. The animals had to be unblemished, perfect sacrifices, too, as a stand-in for the Savior they were picturing. The Savior, Christ, doesn’t have any sinful thoughts, or any sinful words to people, or anything He’s done that He wouldn’t ever want anyone to find out about. That’s all of us; but it isn’t Him. So, covered with Him, as you are by faith, God sees only His perfection.

So, when He rewards you according to what you have done, He’s rewarding you according to what Christ has done. You need not agonize over your sins any longer. And you need not cling to this world, and this life, and this body anymore, as if there’s something to be afraid of in what comes beyond all of this. God sees you as perfect because He has forgiven you in Christ. What happens in this world, in this life, to this body aren’t the most important thing, aren’t the thing to be protected and preserved at all costs. For all of their joy and blessing, they’re only what gives way to the true eternal joy and blessing with God in His kingdom. To Him be the glory forever and ever. Amen.

Luke 13:10-17

Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. And behold, there was a woman who had had a disabling spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and could not fully straighten herself. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said to her, “Woman, you are freed from your disability.” And he laid his hands on her, and immediately she was made straight, and she glorified God. But the ruler of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, said to the people, “There are six days in which work ought to be done. Come on those days and be healed, and not on the Sabbath day.” Then the Lord answered him, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger and lead it away to water it? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen years, be loosed from this bond on the Sabbath day?” As he said these things, all his adversaries were put to shame, and all the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him.

Before our text, Jesus had spoken of some bad things that had happened to some good people. That kind of thing always captures our attention, doesn’t it? We might even find ourselves wondering, Why does it happen? Why does God let it happen; right?

Jesus had been told about certain Galilean Jews who’d been brutally murdered by the Roman ruler Pilate—adding, gruesomely, that he had mingled their blood with their sacrifices. Then, He’d pointed out eighteen who’d died when the tower in Siloam had fallen on them. He’d said about both cases, that those people weren’t somehow getting what they deserved. There just are bad things that happen in this world. They happen even to faithful people (and we have to say that God, in His wisdom allows them; He’s in control—we wouldn’t want it to be any other way, so it can be difficult to understand sometimes). One of the important things these incidents remind us of, is that this is a corrupted world from which the LORD aims to rescue us, exchanging it for a perfect eternal kingdom that He has prepared, and for which He has prepared us. That’s the goal of our lives. And He was reminding them not to lose sight of that. They must repent of their sins and be prepared for God’s kingdom.

In our text for today, a woman has been tormented for eighteen years by an evil spirit. The spirit has been inflicting a disability upon her. She’s bent over, suffering terribly, we might imagine.

People in her time tended to think a person in that position must somehow have deserved it. We might think of that question Jesus’ disciples asked Him one time: “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind (John 9:1)?” Jesus’ comments then were similar to now. He’d said, Neither; it was an opportunity for God’s power to be shown in the person. Then He’d healed the person, showing God’s power. When we think about bad things happening to good people (ourselves, too), we might recognize them as opportunities for us to put our trust in the loving God Whose good intentions toward us are clearly presented in Scripture.

Of course, there’s an example of it in our text. Jesus suddenly, without even being asked to do so, calls out this afflicted woman, and heals her disability (removing the demon). Think of the instantaneous relief she must have felt. She was at peace, now. It being the Sabbath, we might even say she was at a certain sort of rest.

That Sabbath connection is real. Jesus points it out. There’s sort of a lesson being taught in this text about the Sabbath’s purpose. The synagogue ruler who sees what Jesus has done, has one perspective. St. Luke says he’s indignant at what he has seen. Why?—we might wonder. Why would anyone consider wrong to have been done? As Jesus points out, a woman bound by Satan for eighteen years (can you imagine anything more horrible?) has been freed from the bondage. She’s no longer suffering. Why should anyone be indignant, or offended, or irritated about that?!

We wonder it; but every one of us has the nature that produces…that. We have a nature that lives to justify itself, to see God’s Law as something we can obey in order to earn His approval, to think of ourselves as just a little bit more correct than other people.

This synagogue ruler sees the Third Commandment very simply. He states it in the text in a direct quote: “There are six days in which work ought to be done.” He even takes the opportunity to review the rules for all of those who are present. Anyone wishing to be healed is just going to have to come on one of those other days; but not the Sabbath. Not only aren’t they supposed come asking for Jesus’ help in a matter like this, but might presume it would even have to go farther than that. If they’re to please this synagogue, they might best also avoid even coming around on the Sabbath if they have any sort of visible ailment because this mad healer is going around healing people on sight—even without their asking. AND THERE IS TO BE NO BEING RELIEVED OF TORMENT, OF PAIN, OF SUFFERING, OF BONDAGE TO SATAN ON THE DAY OF REST, FOR PETE’S SAKE. Ironic?

Jesus has a different perspective. Hypocrites; that’s what He calls this man, and all who think like him. Hmm. But isn’t he right, that people aren’t supposed to work on the Sabbath? Yes. That is the law that God has given for a specific purpose. But then, (responds Jesus), what about when you—synagogue ruler and the like—on the Sabbath, untie [your] ox or [your] donkey from the manger and lead it away to water it? Why would you do such a thing, when by almost any definition it would have to be called work? And of course the answer is that the animal needs water every day. To neglect doing that work would be to make the animal suffer. That would be wrong, too. So, even though this man and his companions have this very strong policy on the Sabbath law, they have considered this matter of watering their animals to be an exception. Where the Sabbath law and the law of compassion, of love come up against each other, the law of love wins out—when it comes to their animals.

But their exception doesn’t work for people, evidently. It seems that what the synagogue ruler and his like are interested in doing, is sort of wearing a sign that says, KEEPING THE SABBATH LAW, FOR THE RECORD. And they want to recognize others who maybe aren’t (according to their definition), and point them out, saying, NOT KEEPING THE SABBATH LAW. Then they point back at themselves, KEEPING THE SABBATH LAW, and then at the other people: NOT KEEPING THE SABBATH LAW. They’re legalistic. They like the law because they imagine themselves measuring up to God’s requirements through it. In the end, they wouldn’t see themselves as being in need of any savior, because the Law is their savior. According to the way they’re interpreting the Sabbath law, they don’t see themselves as having any problem in keeping it.

And we said this same nature is in all of us. And it’s visible sometimes. We pick out certain things in the Law that seem not to be such a problem for us, and then point out those sins when we see them in others (like hypocrites). We don’t want the spotlight to be on the things that are really a big problem for us, so we turn the light away from those things in ourselves, and highlight what we think presents us well. Meanwhile, we relish pointing out others’ difficult sins.

Sometimes people are really big fans of sermons that pound the law against certain sins. They’re thinking, Pastor, we need to be speaking out against this outrage (that they’ve seen on the news or whatever). It isn’t a sin that’s a problem for them; but they think: we need to sock it to these real sinners out there. But we don’t preach the Law so that others squirm in their seats; there’s plenty that we need to be squirming in our seats about. It doesn’t do you any good to hear about other peoples’ sins; you need to be hearing about your own. You need to hear that because of them you’re condemned. You’re in great need of a solution to that problem of your sin.

You and I have been standing with the synagogue ruler and his friends whenever we have been hypocritically insisting on the letter of the law toward other people, but letting ourselves off the hook. No matter how much our nature might want it, we won’t save ourselves through the Law; we will always need a savior from sin and death, just as much as any other people.

If there was a headline written about this text it would be: Jesus frees a person from bondage on the Sabbath. He puts her at a certain sort of rest. How fitting, when the Sabbath’s purpose is to remind us of the heavenly rest God has in store for us. And how fitting that Jesus is the One Who gives her this rest, because the eternal rest is His doing as well. He’s the one in whom there hasn’t been any hint of hypocrisy, but upon Whom was placed all hypocrisy committed in the past, present, and future of the world. He was punished for your sins of legalism, and of lovelessness when it comes to other peoples’ sins.

At the end of the text it says the people rejoiced at all the glorious things that were done by him. We started out talking about bad things happening to good people. The thing we always have to keep in mind is that the story of our lives is about a good thing happening bad people. God’s mercy covers our guilt. Jesus’ blood—the forgiveness of sins that comes thereby, is His mercy for us. In your Baptism, a good thing was happening to a bad person (bad in the sense of inherently corrupt, sinful, unworthy of God’s kingdom). The good news of Jesus’ atoning blood happened to you, so that you were rescued from punishment and made an heir.

We talked about the relief the woman in our text must have felt at being freed from bondage, about being healed—the rest she must have felt on that Sabbath. When you think about the Sabbath, think about it’s purpose—not as some T to cross for those who want to think of themselves a good people, but of being relieved of your bondage to sin and death. Think of being restored to your Creator, made whole and fit for His eternal kingdom. Think of that good thing as having happened to you by God’s grace in Jesus the Christ. Amen.

John 5:19-29

So Jesus said to them, Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all that he himself is doing. And greater works than these will he show him, so that you may marvel. For as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom he will. The Father judges no one, but has given all judgment to the Son, that all may honor the Son, just as they honor the Father. Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent him. Truly, truly, I say to you, whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life. “Truly, truly, I say to you, an hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. For as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son also to have life in himself. And he has given him authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of Man. Do not marvel at this, for an hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and come out, those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.

On the bulletin cover this morning is a little rendering of the tablets with the Ten Commandments, and the theme: Sin and Righteousness.

An important question in our discussion this morning: What are we going to do with our sins?

The Commandments demonstrate to us that we have them (sins). Our Old Testament lesson lays out some of them. The Commandments are presented to us with the understanding that we must not have sins, that we’re required to keep the Commandments without fail. God says, You shall therefore be holy, for I am holy (Leviticus 11:45). The Bible makes clear that no one will enter heaven with sins. So again, our question: What are we going to do with our sins? What’s going to happen about these sins that we have, that in order to enter heaven we cannot have?

Jesus highlights this problem in the Gospel lesson this morning. People of His time have been striving to be as holy as the scribes and Pharisees (Jewish leaders who presented themselves as holier than the rest). Jesus has told the people: that isn’t going to be good enough. Just being as good as them? No. And then He has demonstrated it by going to one of the Commandments that we might think easiest to look at and say, Well, at least I’ve followed that one—the one about not murdering anyone, and says that murdering doesn’t just mean ending someone’s life, it means being angry with him too. It means holding something against him. It means failing to love him according to God’s command. It means failing to want the best for him, and actively trying to bring it about. That’s all part of the commandment too. St. John speaks similarly: Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him (1 John 3:15).

According to that, then, and according to Jesus’ discussion in the Gospel lesson you have to look at every relationship you’ve ever had in this life, and say, have I ever resented someone and refused to forgive, refused to wish well of, refused to pray for them? Then I have been guilty of breaking the Fifth Commandment too. I’ve murdered in the true sense of that Commandment. That’s one of the sins that sticks to me, that I carry around with me, that puts me out of heaven were it to remain with me.

Jesus talks at the end of the text about those who have done evil rising to a resurrection of judgment. He means rising to have the record of wrongs committed against God’s Commandments brought out, and the just punishment rendered in light of it. That’s a resurrection of judgment.

And Jesus has only discussed one Commandment as an example. He uses that one to make the point that you have a righteousness problem, and very big one. There isn’t any hope if you’re thinking that trying to measure up to someone else who looks good is the answer. If that’s your answer you’re going to find yourself in a resurrection of judgment.

We’re back to our question again: What are we going to do with our sins? How’re we going to get them unstuck from us? How are we going to be the way people have to be in order to enter God’s kingdom of heaven? How’re we going to be completely free of any trace of sin?

There’s another thing happening in this text. Jesus is talking a lot about His relationship to the Father. He’s kind of responding to what had been said just before our text. It was that the Jews (certain ones anyway) were seeking to kill Jesus because He was calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God. That was abhorrent to them. He’d been trying to tell them they need Him in order to be right with God; they weren’t having it.

They weren’t having it because they felt pretty good about their position with God. They were comparing themselves to other people, and considering themselves to be measuring up quite well. They kind of saw themselves as the cream rising to the top. How could God refuse them in comparison to all the other people? So, who was this Jesus claiming they needed Him in order to be right with God?

That’s why Jesus is carefully linking Himself to the Father in our text. Jesus the Son isn’t someone who’s working independently; He’s working in perfect harmony with the Father—doing what the Father has shown Him, acting according to His will. We talk about Jesus’ perfect obedience; that’s being brought out in our text. The two are together—the Son and the Father; there’s no dividing them. There’s no having one without the other. Jesus has said it in our text: Whoever does not honor the Son does not honor the Father who sent him. What these Jews think they want is the worst thing for them.

They live in a fantasy in which God accepts their sins (because they don’t have as many—they think— as other people). But no one enters heaven with sins—any amount of them. God doesn’t accept any sin.

So, again, we had that question: What are we going to do with our sins? We’ve done evil; so how are going to avoid this resurrection of judgment?

Jesus addresses it very clearly in our text: whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgment, but has passed from death to life. Think for a moment about what that means. What Jesus means by His Word is everything about who He is, and about His purpose for being here. He is God’s Son, God Himself (He is equal with God, however distasteful that may have been for some of His hearers). And His purpose in coming, is that in Him, sinners be made righteous before God.

One of the things Jesus said one time that indicates this clearly is the passage familiar to people of all ages: For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16). That addresses the relationship of the Father and Son that Jesus has been discussing in our text. It discusses it even more directly. Not only are the two working together, but the Son’s purpose according to the Father’s will is to be the Savior of sinners. They’re saved by believing in Him—believing that this perfect Son has been punished in their place, so that their sins are removed from them.

That’s what it means when St. Paul writes in our epistle lesson: Don’t you know that all of us who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into His death? You are connected through Baptism—through the faith that’s yours in it, to what Christ has done.

Your punishment for sins has been carried out, and accepted by the Father. Remember: no one enters heaven with sins—any amount of them. God doesn’t accept any sin. The necessary punishment for sin was carried out upon God’s Son so that it didn’t have to be carried out upon you.

This had been the Father’s plan along, as expressed to Adam and Eve in the garden after they’d sinned (the promise of the One Who would crush the serpent’s head), and to Abraham (whose vast family would include One as a blessing to all people)—reiterated also to Isaac his son, and Jacob his grandson.

The answer to our question: What are we going to do with our sins?—is that God has already done it for us. You are not going to come out of the tomb to a resurrection of judgment because the judgment has already be carried out upon the One in Whom you trust for forgiveness and salvation, Jesus. You are going to come out of the tomb to the resurrection of life. Your sins have been removed from you. As far as God is concerned, you have, according to the words of our text, done good (it’s really Christ’s good that has been put upon you to remove your sins; but it works). Your sins have been unstuck from you. You’re forgiven of them. You do not come into judgment. You have passed from death to life. You will enter heaven without sins because Christ has removed them from you. The One Who has removed your sins invites you to the Table this morning to receive from Him along with bread and wine, what has removed your sins—His true body and blood. You come in repentance, determined to go and sin no more, and you receive it with joy and comfort in Christ’s holy Name. You receive Christ for the remission of your sins. God be praised. Amen.

Matthew 8:5-13

When he entered Capernaum, a centurion came forward to him, appealing to him, “Lord, my servant is lying paralyzed at home, suffering terribly.” And he said to him, “I will come and heal him.” But the centurion replied, “Lord, I am not worthy to have you come under my roof, but only say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I too am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. And I say to one, ‘Go,’ and he goes, and to another, ‘Come,’ and he comes, and to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he marveled and said to those who followed him, “Truly, I tell you, with no one in Israel have I found such faith. I tell you, many will come from east and west and recline at table with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven, while the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.” And to the centurion Jesus said, “Go; let it be done for you as you have believed.” And the servant was healed at that very moment.

There’s a bumper sticker that addresses a certain frustration drivers have. The person following (usually seeing it at a stop light or something) reads: “Are you following Jesus this closely?” I thought of that because the theme on the bulletin cover for this day is: Following Jesus. It doesn’t have anything to do with tailgating, though. On the contrary, following Jesus means humbling oneself before Him, and trusting His Words, according to our text.

Again: Following Jesus means humbling oneself before Him, and trusting His Words.

Jesus’ statement: with no one in Israel have I found such faith is important to the point of it all. Among the Israelites, He hasn’t been seeing something He’s been wishing He would see; He hasn’t seen, despite them seeing all of His Messianic signs and wonders (seeing what the prophets said the Messiah would do); despite them seeing all of that, He hasn’t seen among them a willingness to recognize Him as the Savior God has sent, and to trust in His Words, to closely follow Him.

Again: He hasn’t seen it like He’s wanted to from God’s people—the Israelites. From the ones from whom you’d expect He’d see it, He hasn’t been seeing it. “Church people” like them (and like you)—regularly exposed to His Word, are the ones from whom He hasn’t been seeing this willingness to recognize Him as the Savior God has sent, and to trust in His Words.

He has, however, seen it on this day, from a centurion—a Roman soldier, a non-Jew—a non-member of those who were called God’s people. He’s seen it from him. He has seen it to such an extent, that He has said the thing we mentioned earlier: with no one in Israel have I found such faith. He hasn’t seen faith this strong from the Israelites; He has seen it from this Roman centurion.

And it’s this unusual thing the centurion says that makes Jesus react so strongly, makes Him say that thing about his profound faith.

Remember, that this man has come to Jesus with the great concern that his servant is paralyzed, and suffering terribly. Jesus is compassionate. Part of His purpose in coming has been to demonstrate to people that God’s kingdom is coming, and that in that kingdom there will be an end to suffering. One of the ways He demonstrates it is to end for some people, some of the suffering here. So, He has said that He will come down to the man’s house for that purpose, to end someone’s suffering.

We’ve seen this before, in other accounts. Jesus shows up on the scene and puts His hand on a person (or something like that), and maybe says something, and the person is restored in whatever way was necessary. He’s God in human flesh. There isn’t anything He can’t do; so, it gets done. He goes there, and it gets done.

The wrinkle in this particular case: the man doesn’t want Him to come.

Huh. But he has just come to Jesus and indicated that he wants His help. Jesus has offered to help. But the thing is, the man’s reasoning for not wanting Jesus to come down to his house is impressive. In fact, it’s so impressive, that Jesus considers it an indication of faith He hasn’t seen even among those who are supposed to be God’s own people. As it so happens, the man doesn’t feel like he’s worthy of having Jesus come under his roof because he knows Jesus is God, and he is a sinner.

But this is the one to whom I will look [says God through the prophet Isaiah]: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word (Isaiah 66:2). Don’t those words from God indicate that this centurion is just the sort of person God recognizes as one of His own?

His humility in itself is indicative of great faith, isn’t it? It’s basically St. Peter (in our Gospel lesson), after seeing the great catch of fish miracle, saying to Jesus, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord (Luke 5:8).” This centurion’s humility before God is like that.

But the thing that pleases Jesus so much in this particular case, is how the man expresses that he trusts implicitly Him. He trusts that Jesus can get the job done in another way. He’s shy about having God come under his lowly roof; but what he knows to be the case is that all Jesus has to do is say the word. You know!! (He kinda says): it’s just like how I—a centurion—am in charge of people; and I just say the word and things get done. I don’t have to go to there myself; just say it. That’s the kind of authority a centurion has in the Roman Empire. And, important in this moment, important to what the man believes: that’s the kind of authority Jesus’ Word has when it comes to somebody getting healed. He significantly trusts Jesus’ Words. Remember, we said humbling oneself before Jesus and trusting His Words is following Jesus. That’s what He’s seeing in the centurion that He hasn’t seen to that same extent in Israel.

And Jesus is gratified in seeing it. He marvels at it, our text says. He says to His followers, that thing we’ve been talking about—that He hasn’t seen such faith with anyone in Israel. In fact, says Jesus, this foreigner trusting Him like this is an example of the fact that many more like him will come from outside of Israel, and will be joined with those who are inheriting God’s kingdom. Many more will come who will humble themselves before God, and trust in Him, so that He recognizes them as His own. On the other hand, the sons of the kingdom will be thrown into the outer darkness (excluded from the kingdom, of course that means). The Israelites excluded, He’s warning—the “church people” if you will.

That hits close to home with you, because you are “church people”. For the purposes of this conversation this morning, you see yourselves as related to the Israelites. You have the same advantage they had, of knowing the true God—knowing His Word that draws you to Him for salvation.

We had that bumper sticker question, “Are you following Jesus this closely?” Jesus has compared the Israelites (the church people) of His time—their following of Him—to something; He has compared it to this centurion’s following of Him. In a sense He has asked His Israelite audience, “Are you following Jesus this closely?” Are you following Him so closely, that you have a faith that humbles itself before Him—recognizing your sins, so closely, that you trust implicitly that His words are true, that they’re powerful, that they bring about for you what they promise?

Or, has your following of Him been a distant sort of following? The owner of that bumper sticker was encouraging a distant sort of following. That’s desirable for safe driving. But when it comes to our following of Jesus distance isn’t desirable.

It’s not what anyone sets out to have be the case. When people are going through the church membership instruction class, they don’t aspire to one day be distant followers of Jesus. They’re joining the church because they’re convinced that following Jesus closely is critical to their lives. They want their faith to resemble the centurion’s faith, that humbles itself before God, and trusts implicitly in His Words. They want to be close to God, joyfully anticipating His kingdom. That’s the sort of following that people set out to do, either having just been Baptized and experiencing the Spirit’s leading, or having been brought to it later, through instruction in God’s Word. In either case, their aspiration is to be closely following Jesus.

But distance in our following of Him sort of happens without our noticing. It’s something we look back and realize has been the case, when our attention is drawn to it (like in this message this morning). And we’re not happy to be realizing it. We realize the devil has been working in our lives, right. Through his dark encouragement we have softened our resolve to put away sin in our lives and to humble ourselves before God. We have become less interested in God’s Word, and less trusting of it as critical to our lives.

Evidently, Jesus was seeing more of that lukewarm-ness, that sort of distance in the faith of the Israelite crowd. He wanted to see in them what He was seeing in the centurion. He wanted to see them hungering and thirsting after righteousness as He said in the Beatitudes (Matthew 5:6). He wanted a close relationship with God to be more important to them than other things in their lives.

He has wanted the same from you; and when you have examined yourself, no doubt, you have noticed that you have at times backed off from Him. You have ignored the opportunities He has given you to grow in faith, and to be closer to Him. You have put yourself at a distance from Him, so that He might say of you like of the Israelites of His time, that He hasn’t seen in you the humility before Him and the implicit trust in His Words that He has desired. That sort of lukewarmness of faith, that distant following of Him now threatens to become a permanent separation from Him. Jesus speaks this warning to the church people of His time so that they’ll be jarred out of their apathy.

There isn’t any question about Who He is; He’s the Savior God has sent. Look what you’re seeing in our text: His Word powerfully restores bodies that are damaged with paralysis. Nobody else’s word does that. And that merciful work of His in this world is just a demonstration of what’s to come in His kingdom. Even more important is the other damage He repairs. He goes to the cross to put people’s spiritual carelessness (yours too, and mine) and all other sins on His own back to bear them. He makes you able to be close to Him—to God, where before it was impossible. Since He’s punished there for your sins, you’re forgiven of them. You need not dwell on this sin of apathy or any other sin any longer, then. It is paid for; it is removed entirely forever. In His sacrificial death on the cross, Jesus’ perfection in all things has come to stand before God as your own perfection. It’s been placed upon you to cover your sin.

When you come to the altar this morning to receive Him in His grace and mercy through the Sacrament, think of Him drawing you close to Him. He puts forgiveness in your mouth through the Supper. He assures you that your trust in Him is warranted. His Words this is My body, this is My blood given for you—bring about for you what they promise: namely, forgiveness and eternal life. God has brought you close to Himself. To Him be the glory both now and forever. Amen.

St. Matthew 25:1–13

[Jesus said], “Then the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. Five of them were foolish, and five were wise. For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, but the wise took flasks of oil with their lamps. As the bridegroom was delayed, they all became drowsy and slept. But at midnight there was a cry, ‘Here is the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps. And the foolish said to the wise, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ But the wise answered, saying, ‘Since there will not be enough for us and for you, go rather to the dealers and buy for yourselves.’ And while they were going to buy, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the marriage feast, and the door was shut. Afterward the other virgins came also, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open to us.’ But he answered, ‘Truly, I say to you, I do not know you.’ Watch therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.”

Jesus says the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went to meet the bridegroom. All have in common in the parable, that they become drowsy and sleep, and that at a certain time they rise and trim their lamps. The Bridegroom for whom they’ve been waiting comes at the same time for all—at midnight. But there is an important difference between them that will mean everything.

St. Paul uses a slightly different image in order to make the same point in our epistle lesson; rather than as a bridegroom coming for a wedding feast, he says that the Lord will come like a thief in the night. The images of the parable’s midnight return and the epistle’s late night intrusion both amount to a situation in which people tend to be off their guard—even vulnerable. In both cases, early and well-conceived preparation will be necessary for anyone wishing to come out on the good end of things; to have been wise rather than foolish.

Being foolish in this matter amounts to very serious consequences. Jesus had just been comparing His second coming to the days of Noah, those days before the flood when people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, until the day when Noah entered the ark, and they were unaware until the flood came and swept them all away (24:38,39). There, too, Jesus was talking about wise and foolish people when it comes to God’s kingdom. Noah was entering the ark he’d built in obedience to God, trusting in His Words, relying on Him. Others were existing in a false sense of security, imagining that whatever God had to say (which Noah had been preaching to them for a hundred years while he built the ark) was of no consequence; they might as well go on about their lives without care or concern. St. Paul says similarly in our epistle lesson: While people are saying, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape.

Of course, all of this darkness that’s being discussed in these verses speaks to the corruption of this world, and goes back to the problem all of us have—the problem of sin. We’re reminded here, of the fact that Jesus talks about two groups of people; but describes them as all being in the same situation: all get drowsy and sleep, all rise to trim their lamps. Similarly, all people are in this world for an unknown amount of time. The world is filled with interesting distractions. It even has God’s enemy in it, whom He calls the Prince of the this World, whose every aim is to distract people from God’s Word so long that they find themselves unprepared in the end, to meet Him—without what was required of them in order to be with God in His eternal kingdom (with hell as the only other possibility).

Jesus’ parable is about ten young women who have an opportunity to which they have looked forward with great excitement. They have served a bride as attendants at her wedding. Now, they would attend also the marriage feast held at the home of her new husband, the bridegroom. After the wedding they would customarily walk from one house to the other in the darkness with lamps lighting their way. The lamps require oil to continue burning. When they reach the bridegroom's home, they need to wait outside until he comes with his bride to begin the feast.

But the bridegroom is delayed in coming. It having become even the middle of the night, they have all gotten tired and fallen asleep. But, in a certain moment, all together are awakened to the call: the bridegroom is here! All together they rise and begin to trim their lamps, to provide for themselves the necessary light so that they might go and meet the Bridegroom and attend the marriage feast.

Here’s where a little detail we were told becomes important. While five of the ten have brought along extra oil for their lamps (prepared for any length of wait), the other five have not. In this crucial moment they are finding themselves without what they needed in order to be prepared so that they might go and do what they have desired to do, to meet the bridegroom at his coming. Having been in this fashion caught unawares, they react desperately; they turn to their wiser counterparts who’ve brought extra oil, and say, give us some of your oil. But there isn’t enough to share. It’s too late. These haven’t prepared themselves, and there isn’t any more time to do so now.

Their surprise at finding themselves in this situation reminds us of our Gospel lesson from last week, doesn’t it; the one in which Jesus separates the sheep from the goats? Those who are being sent away are surprised to be finding themselves divided from Christ and from His kingdom. They’ve presumed all along that they were headed there. Similarly in the parable, the bridegroom comes and brings those who are there, prepared, with him into the house for the marriage feast. When the others come later, they are turned away with the very haunting statement, I do not know you.

Our Old Testament lesson from Isaiah speaks to this unpreparedness that is our tendency, and that Jesus warns against in the parable. It provides perspective. Nothing that would distract us here, that would get in the way of us being prepared for Christ’s return will even be remembered or come to mind in the new creation of God’s eternal kingdom. Whatever it was that was turning your attention away from God’s salvation; you didn’t need it—that’s what many will hear. It’s the former things. Nothing of it is worth missing out on what Christ—the Bridegroom brings On That Day. I create Jerusalem to be a joy, and her people to be a gladness. I will rejoice in Jerusalem and be glad in my people; no more shall be heard in it the sound of weeping and the cry of distress.” These words have a meaning in the present about God’s exiled people returning to the earthly Jerusalem; but they’re prophetic also of the end of this world that passes away, giving way to Christ’s eternal kingdom (that’s why they’re included here, with this text on this Last Sunday of the Church Year).

Among which group of those Jesus mentions in His parable are you to be counted; among the wise, or among the foolish? That the young women need working lamps to meet the bridegroom, and that God’s Word is called a lamp for our feet and a light for our path, isn’t a coincidence. He prepares you to meet your Bridegroom—Christ at His second coming through His Word that is preached and read to you, and through it as it is present in the Sacraments of Baptism and the Supper. Though Christ returns at any time, like a thief in the night, like a Bridegroom returning for the wedding feast, God’s Word prepares you to meet Him. The Spirit works through it to preserve the faith He began in you in Baptism, or through the hearing of His Word. Having this faith, you are prepared by being connected to the Savior Whose perfect life provided the perfect sacrifice on a cross to pay for your sins.

That perfect blood has also paid for the sin of your unpreparedness. It has paid for every instance in which something in this passing world became more important to you than what God had to say. It has paid for an attitude you’ve sometimes had in which you figured a shallow knowledge and understanding of God’s Word is good enough (we might compare that to young women showing up to meet the bridegroom without enough oil to endure the wait for his return). It has been a dangerous situation; you’ve put yourself at spiritual risk in those moments (the result is disastrous in the parable; Jesus wants you to take note of that).

But He speaks to you His words of grace at this very moment. His very clearly stated desire is that you hear Him, and that you be counted among those who are wisely prepared for His return.

It’s why He says this morning in the Sacrament, This is My body which is given for you; This is My blood shed for you for the remission of sins. Through His sacrifice you are forgiven of sins; He gives you this very body and blood that has purchased it to assure you that it’s the case—to comfort you as you wait for Him in this world—because it might get to seem like a long wait. You will get weary of the waiting (like young women waiting for the bridegroom’s return). During this wait, were it not for Christ’s careful tending in this way (with Word and Sacrament), you might even start to wonder whether He’s coming at all. You might grow weary of waiting, and be among those who are surprised at His return, and unprepared for it. The world might have taken up your spiritual education since you have set aside God’s training. You might have become like young women who need oil to light their lamps but have none.

Certainly this warning of Christ’s won’t find its sad fulfillment in you, dear Christians. You are under the careful tending of the Bridegroom, benefiting from early and well-conceived preparation. What could be more so than the Spirit’s training through the means God has provided that sinners might reach His kingdom? You are under that training that leads to eternal life. It is none other than the declaration: Jesus died for your sins and rose to life again. Your sins are no longer held against you. You will rise to be with Him in His eternal kingdom. That is the oil that lights the lamp that leads to Christ. You have it. No matter how long the wait, at the Bridegroom’s call you will rise with everything you need to be with Him. God be praised. Amen.

Isaiah 65:17-19

[The LORD says], “Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth, and the former things shall not be remembered or come into mind. But be glad and rejoice forever in that which I create; for behold, I create Jerusalem to be a joy, and her people to be a gladness. I will rejoice in Jerusalem and be glad in my people; no more shall be heard in it the sound of weeping and the cry of distress.”

1 Thessalonians 5:1-11

Now concerning the times and the seasons, brothers, you have no need to have anything written to you. For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night. While people are saying, “There is peace and security,” then sudden destruction will come upon them as labor pains come upon a pregnant woman, and they will not escape. But you are not in darkness, brothers, for that day to surprise you like a thief. For you are all children of light, children of the day. We are not of the night or of the darkness. So then let us not sleep, as others do, but let us keep awake and be sober. For those who sleep, sleep at night, and those who get drunk, are drunk at night. But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, having put on the breastplate of faith and love, and for a helmet the hope of salvation. For God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us so that whether we are awake or asleep we might live with him. Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.