St. Matthew 22:1-14

Again Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying, “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son, and sent his servants to call those who were invited to the wedding feast, but they would not come. Again he sent other servants, saying, ‘Tell those who are invited, “See, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready. Come to the wedding feast.”’ But they paid no attention and went off, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his servants, treated them shamefully, and killed them. The king was angry, and he sent his troops and destroyed those murderers and burned their city. Then he said to his servants, ‘The wedding feast is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore to the main roads and invite to the wedding feast as many as you find.’ And those servants went out into the roads and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good. So the wedding hall was filled with guests.

“But when the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man who had no wedding garment. And he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?’ And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Jesus is warning in the parable, not to reject the salvation that God has graciously offered in His Son.

1. It’s throughout Matthew’s previous chapter as well. People have recognized Jesus as the Messiah (the Savior) as He rode into Jerusalem. That enthusiasm has carried over in the mouths of children crying in the Temple those same words, “Hosanna to the Son of David!”—but the chief priests and scribes (the church leader guys) are indignant. Their complaint to Jesus: “Do you hear what these are saying?

2. Then, there is the account of the fruitless fig tree that Jesus curses. The chief priests and scribes (and all who think like them) are this fig tree, He’s saying.

3. Those same ones come up next in Matthew’s Gospel, and question Jesus’ authority as He teaches in the Temple.

4. He tells the Parable of the Two Sons, in which He concludes by saying to the chief priests and scribes, the tax collectors and the prostitutes go into the kingdom of God before you (21:31). They’re the ones who, hearing the Gospel, changed their minds and believed. They received for themselves God’s mercy in the Christ instead of rejecting Him.

5. Finally, just before our text, Jesus speaks so pointedly and clearly about the chief priests and Pharisees, that they’re racking their brains to try to find a way to arrest Him that won’t rile up the crowds too badly. His parable has been about tenants who refuse to give the Master what is due him, and who mistreat and kill the servants—and even His own Son, who come to collect.

Look how we’re seeing the same sort of thing in our Old Testament lesson today. God is urgently calling sinners to repentance (the thing that needs to happen if they’re to be with Him in His kingdom). I was ready to be sought by those who did not ask for me [He says in Isaiah 65:1-2]; I was ready to be found by those who did not seek me. I said, “Here I am, here I am,” to a nation that was not called by my name. I spread out my hands all the day to a rebellious people, who walk in a way that is not good, following their own devices.

And then, we have Jesus’ parable for this morning, in which He compares God’s kingdom to a king who gave a wedding feast for his son. Like a man ready to be sought by those who did not ask for [him], ready to found by those who did not seek [him], this certain king sends out his invitation to individuals. He spreads out his hands—it’s like we might say, “He’s really putting himself out there.” He isn’t holding anything back; he’s wanting these people to join him. He wants them to take part in what he has that no one else has. It’s the best possible thing for them.

The kingdom of heaven may be compared to…(those first words of our text). Jesus says them to people who are interested in being in that kingdom. He says them so that they might know how to get there. You are among them too, aren’t you? We’ve been talking about a simple message thus far; God has sent His Son as the one who gets you to the kingdom. Don’t reject Him. And you might say, Why would anyone want to do that? You are here this morning to hear of this kingdom, after all. You relate to Jesus’ disciple who said, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life (John 6:68).”

But what about that man at the end of the text, the one who’s there with all the others at the banquet (like you are with everyone here), but suddenly has a spotlight on him. He’s singled out, and questioned there, in front of everyone. The way the question is asked presumes he doesn’t belong with all the others there, even though he seems to think he does. He isn’t one of them. Jesus wants His hearers to think to themselves, that person couldn’t be me, could it? How do I avoid being that one who is singled out like that when it comes to God’s kingdom—told I don’t belong?

The others in the parable, the ones the king says were not worthy, have clearly chosen to put themselves outside of the king’s event. They know it’s important. They know they’re invited. They have chosen other things (some even violently mistreating and killing the servants sent to invite them). Considering those portions of Matthew’s Gospel leading up to ours this morning, it isn’t hard to see the similarity between those rejectors of the invitation in the parable, and the Chief Priests and scribes invited to be baptized into the Name of the Son of Man, but opting rather to mistreat and kill Him. They have no interest in humbling themselves before God, putting themselves at His mercy, receiving the rescue that He’s offering them in their sins. It’s easy enough to see why they’re not included in the banquet; they’ve removed themselves, right?

But then there’s this other guy in the parable, sitting amongst the ones who have (even if late in the game) accepted the king’s invitation—those gathered in from the main roads. This other guy: What’s his deal? What makes him so different from them, that he is interrogated, bound, and cast into the outer darkness?

When the king comes in to look at the guests in the parable, he immediately sees this one because he has refused the special garment prepared for him, that suits him to be in that place. He has refused, in actuality, then, the invitation itself, hasn’t he? He isn’t really any different from those others at the beginning of the text, not being willing to be there on the terms of the one who has invited him.

When we think about the Chief Priests and scribes, mentioned earlier, it’s the case when it comes to God’s kingdom, that they have conducted themselves in this way. They have wanted to choose for themselves other terms for getting into God’s kingdom than He has offered. He has offered His Son; they have rejected Him in favor of their own righteousness. In a way, we might say (in the language of the parable), they have chosen to wear their own garment to the king’s banquet whether He likes it or not. We see from the parable how this turns out. A person who tries this finds himself out of God’s kingdom.

That garment is awfully important. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ (Galatians 3:27)—Paul’s words to the Galatians. He’s saying, we wear Christ. When we appear in God’s kingdom like those in the parable are appearing in the king’s banquet, the garment provided for us (making us able to be there) is Christ. It’s His righteousness to cover our guilt.

The guilt it covers includes our tendency to be rejectors of God’s invitation to his kingdom. I know, we said, why would anyone want to do that? But if you think about it, you can see yourself in the ones in the earlier part of the parable, and the later. Doesn’t this world grab ahold of you, like it does them? We receive (or accept) God’s invitation by allowing Him speak to us in His Word, allowing Him impact our lives so meaningfully, so significantly that nothing else is more important to us. Haven’t you at times given that sort of meaning, that sort of significance to things other than God and His Word? And haven’t you even been resentful of the all-encompassing commitment that God is asking from you—like those who lash out at the servants sent with the invitation?

And, hasn’t it occurred to you—like to that other guy in the parable, that the garment of your own righteousness might just be significant enough, substantial enough for you to appear before God in His kingdom, that maybe you aren’t as lost and as hopeless as God’s Word makes you out to be? The world is always preaching that message at you, encouraging you to be your own Savior apart from Christ. Isn’t just the passing sort of interest you’ve sometimes had in hearing God’s Word an indication that that message of you being your own savior has made an impact (otherwise, wouldn’t you have been more devoted to God’s Word; wouldn’t it have been way more important to you than anything else—if it’s really what preserves your faith unto salvation)?

If you’re thinking, Oh no! I’ve been those guys in the earlier part of the text, choosing this world over God’s invitation. And that other guy at the end could be me, sitting in the assembly of God’s people without a humble heart before God, without the garment He has provided for me, that I might truly belong there; if you’re thinking that, then lift up your heart, God’s mercy is still available for you. You are covered in the garment of Christ’s righteousness. He humbled Himself to the point of death on a cross to be your perfect humility before God. No one who wears this garment of Christ’s righteousness (given you in Baptism, given you in God’s Word) will be singled out as not belonging in God’s kingdom. To wear this garment is to recognize God’s grace that covers every sin. It is to truly answer His invitation, to avail oneself of what He has provided so that sinners might enter His kingdom washed clean of all guilt—forgiven entirely. You wear the garment of salvation through this faith in Christ.

Everything is prepared. Everything is ready. Come to the wedding feast! Amen.

Other Lessons this week:

OT lesson demonstrates God’s urgency in calling sinners to salvation (and their rejection of the calling). EP lesson urges those who have been invited, to be careful with the invitation.

The man at the end of the text was just like the ones in the beginning, even though he was present in the wedding hall. He too, was rejecting the invitation by trying to attend on his own terms. He wasn’t really there with the rest of the guests who had truly accepted the invitation.

Isaiah 65:1–2

I was ready to be sought by those who did not ask for me; I was ready to be found by those who did not seek me. I said, “Here I am, here I am,” to a nation that was not called by my name. I spread out my hands all the day to a rebellious people,

who walk in a way that is not good, following their own devices.

Ephesians 5:15–21

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is. And do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit, addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody to the Lord with your heart, giving thanks always and for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another out of reverence for Christ.

St. Mark 7:31–37

Then [Jesus] returned from the region of Tyre and went through Sidon to the Sea of Galilee, in the region of the Decapolis. And they brought to him a man who was deaf and had a speech impediment, and they begged him to lay his hand on him. And taking him aside from the crowd privately, he put his fingers into his ears, and after spitting touched his tongue. And looking up to heaven, he sighed and said to him, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.” And his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. And Jesus charged them to tell no one. But the more he charged them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. And they were astonished beyond measure, saying, “He has done all things well. He even makes the deaf hear and the mute speak.”

There are videos on YouTube, that show babies or young children who, through a hearing aid, are hearing their parents’ voices for the first time. Maybe you’ve seen these before; there are many of them, and they’re all very similar to each other. The hearing aid is applied, the parent starts to speak, and the child looks in a way we might describe as “astonished”—that word from our text. The astonishment is followed in most cases with what could never be mistaken as anything but pure joy. A giant smile comes across the little face of that little person who has had her ears opened to hear the happy sound of her parent’s voice.

Hearing is so important to us. God’s gift of our ears gives us great joy in life, the ability to hear music, and laughter, the sounds of nature, the voices of loved ones. If we have hearing, it’s hard to imagine life without it (though, sadly, some are unable to hear).

A man is brought to Jesus in our text. He has this disability. He can’t hear, and can’t speak clearly for that reason. Whoever is bringing him to Jesus has in mind what must be done; they must beg Jesus to lay His hand on him. But, how have they known to do this? Well, in Mark’s previous chapter he has discussed Jesus’ feeding the five thousand, walking on water, healing the sick at Gennesaret. Following the last of those miracles, Mark writes: And wherever he came, in villages, cities, or countryside, they laid the sick in the marketplaces and implored him that they might touch even the fringe of his garment. And as many as touched it were made well (6:56). So, it makes sense that the companions of this man knew that he might well be helped by Jesus.

Jesus, indeed, helps Him. He heals his ears so they can hear. Also, as part of the miracle, the man is able to speak clearly now. The way Jesus goes about this healing is to say, “Ephphatha,” that is, “Be opened.”

Effortlessly, Jesus fixes what’s broken—even with our bodies. He’s the maker of them; so it isn’t any problem for Him to fix them, if He so chooses (if it’s best for us that it happen). There isn’t anything He can’t do to help us. And, He wants to fix what’s broken. That’s why He’s here. Our Old Testament lesson from Isaiah is talking about the time when this Messiah will come, and about the fact that He’ll be bringing relief to those who are suffering. All of this was fulfilled when Jesus came and ministered to the people.

Ephphatha—Be opened. A couple of chapters back in Mark’s Gospel, Jesus had told the Parable of the Sower, about God’s Word being proclaimed to various kinds of listeners (including, also, those who aren’t listening at all). And He told a parable about a lamp put under a basket (about the light of the Word being hidden so it can’t benefit people). At the end of these parables, He says, If anyone has ears to hear, let him hear (Mark 4:23).”

That word Ephphatha is historically associated with Baptisms in the Church. It’s not hard to see why when we think about what Baptism is. The Spirit comes to a person through the water and Word, and opens what has been closed off. He opens the person’s ears spiritually-speaking. By nature they haven’t been able to receive the message that would save them—the Gospel message, the message of God’s grace in Christ. Their old nature has resisted it. The mind that is set on the flesh is hostile to God (Romans 8:7)—The Bible says. St. Paul writes that, actually. In another of his letters, he says to his readers similarly, You once were alienated and hostile in mind (Colossians 1:21). It’s been like ears that are deaf. Human hearts, since the Fall Into Sin,  are naturally closed to God. In Baptism, it’s as if the Spirit comes to the person and says, Ephphatha—Be opened.

And faith is begun in that person. And there is a palpable result. Remember what we said about those videos of young children who have heard their parents’ voices for the first time. We said, The hearing aid is applied, the parent starts to speak, and the child looks in a way we might describe as “astonished”. The astonishment is followed with the look of pure joy.

Similarly, when Baptism is applied—when the pastor says, “I baptize you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” and the Word is proclaimed to the person (now believing through the Spirit’s work) the person’s reaction might be described, if we were able to see it, as astonished. What follows is pure joy, because the guilt of sin that divided him from God has been removed. God’s merciful forgiveness has taken its place. The forgiveness is in the blood of Jesus, the righteous One Who died on a cross for the world’s sins.

The companions of the man in our text knew that the solution for their friend’s problem was to go to Jesus, go to the One Who does amazing things—things no one else can do. Go to Him and ask for His help, knowing that He wants to help. We’ve seen all of it on display in this text. He doesn’t hesitate to meet the man’s need. He demonstrates His divine power. He demonstrates the compassion of God. That going to Jesus with our concerns is our best move goes without saying from what we see in this text. The man’s companions were right.

And yet, so much of the time going to Jesus with our concerns hasn’t been our first move, has it? Our first move has been more like the move of those who haven’t had their spiritual hearing restored in Baptism, and through faith that comes from hearing Christ’s Word. Our first move has been to do a lot of fretting, worrying that our needs won’t have any solution. It has been to panic. It has been to act like those who don’t know Christ, who don’t know the One Who opens ears that haven’t worked, so that they work again! “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith (Matthew 8:26)?”—Jesus said one time to His disciples. He was there with them, after all!

Couldn’t He say it to you, too? Couldn’t He say to you, Why haven’t you more often come to me like the companions of that man who couldn’t hear? Haven’t you seen the result in the Scriptures? Haven’t you seen that there isn’t anything that I can’t do for you? Haven’t seen My desire to help you in even the littlest things in life? But if He were to say something like that to you, He wouldn’t be saying it to create distance between you and Him, but rather to draw you close to Him with a merciful invitation.

He is the righteous One Who has humbled Himself so that you might be exalted. He has obeyed perfectly so that you could be considered to have done so. He has suffered and bled so that the punishment you deserved could be accomplished and put on your account as paid. There isn’t anything you needed in your relationship with God that He hasn’t provided. You are forgiven and restored to God in Him.

Now, He invites you to come to Him like the companions of the man in our text, with any concern. To whom else is there to go? No doubt the people in our text had gone to doctors who weren’t able to be of help. Were they to have put their faith in some other sort of God nothing would have happened. There wasn’t any other solution that they were going to come up with for themselves. Jesus was their solution.

He is yours, too. God be praised that He has opened your spiritual ears to hear and receive His gracious message of salvation. God be praised that you have Him to turn to in any trouble, the One Whose ability and compassion are so clearly presented in Scriptural texts like ours for this morning. He invites you to come to Him so that He can help you.

You indeed have come to Him this morning in a place like this so that He might help you. He gives you the things no one else can give. He gives you the Word of Truth in which the Spirit works to nourish the faith begun in you long ago. He gives you at His Table, the very body and blood shed for the remission of your sins. You have known, like the deaf man’s companions, what must be done so that you might have the help you need. You have come to beg of Jesus, that He might lay His hand on you, that He might give you comfort in response to your confession, strengthening in your weakness, hope in your longing.

Ephphatha—Be opened. The most important phrase for you to hear with the opened ears of faith is, your sins are forgiven. The astonishment you might feel at hearing those words is in the realization that it could really be true—that even your sins are truly forgiven. The pure joy that follows is in anticipating the inheritance that awaits you in God’s kingdom—opened for you by His grace. God be praised. Amen.

St. Luke 18:9–14

[Jesus] also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt: “Two men went up into the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee, standing by himself, prayed thus: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get.’ But the tax collector, standing far off, would not even lift up his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified, rather than the other. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

Last of all, as to one untimely born, [Christ] appeared also to me. For I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.

St. Paul wrote those words in his first letter to the Corinthians (part of our epistle lesson for today). He had regrets in this life. He’d been ‘Saul,’ who went from town to town with authority from the Jewish rulers. They’d commissioned him to round up Christ’s followers. He was to bring them bound to Jerusalem (Acts 9).

Jesus had told his disciples: They will lay their hands on you and persecute you, delivering you up to the synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors for my name's sake (Luke 21:12). That was Saul (among others)—laying hands on Christ’s followers, persecuting them, delivering them up to the synagogues and prisons, bringing them before kings and governors. His campaign of terror was an example of what Christ had foretold.

It had been stopped only by the grace of God (as Paul writes in our epistle lesson). Jesus confronted this Pharisee on the road to Damascus. He gave him opportunity to put aside the harm he was inflicting (in God’s name, so he thought) in favor of a Christian ministry that truly glorified God (the ministry included him preaching God’s grace in Christ, and writing much of the New Testament).

Paul was made humble when he came to know God’s grace in Christ. Now he knew he wasn’t righteous in himself; he needed the One Whom God had provided to make him righteous. He needed Christ. He knew this, now; and that was good. But he would live the rest of his life regretting what he’d done.

The Bible doesn’t leave any room for a person to think he’s righteous without Christ. You who would be justified by the law [apart from Christ, that means]; you have fallen away from grace (Galatians 5:4)—those are Paul’s words in another letter. Grace means that God gives a free gift of righteousness to sinners who otherwise could never be what He requires, could never measure up for His kingdom. He makes them righteous in spite of themselves. He does it by putting Christ’s righteousness on them like a garment that they wear. He does it through the Spirit’s work in Baptism and the Word. It’s the opposite of a person presuming he could save himself by obeying the Law. Grace is God saving him from sin’s punishment free of charge; the law is him impossibly trying to do it himself.

The Pharisee in Jesus’ parable has chosen that second option—trying to be righteous in himself, without Christ. Under other circumstances, if you were to hear that a man had stood in God’s House and said the words, I thank you, you might think his address to God would have been well received by Him. After all, he could have been saying with King David in Psalm 138, I give you thanks for your steadfast love and your faithfulness, for you have exalted above all things your name and your word; or like in Psalm 118 (28): I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation. He could have been saying (as you have this morning in The Gloria in Excelsis Deo): …we give thanks to You, for Your great glory. O Lord God, heavenly King, God the Father Almighty. Thanks directed in that way would certainly be God-pleasing.

The Pharisee is going a different direction with those words—I thank you, though. He says, I thank you that I am not like other men. Other men are such sinners that they can’t help themselves into God’s kingdom, he means. Other men actually have things to confess before God. God has to concern Himself with these people (though not me). They have things to actually feel guilty about. He goes on to list a number of ways he isn’t like them. They're extortioners or unjust. On the contrary, he fasts even more than the law says he needs to. He tithes more than the law requires too.

Jesus is really demonstrating in this parable what being bound for God’s kingdom looks like and doesn’t look like.

To the Pharisee it looks like a person standing before God confident that what he is makes the cut for God’s kingdom. It’s a person who doesn’t really have any shame before God because he expects that God will compare him with others, and he will fare well enough in that comparison. He may devour widows’ houses here and there (as Jesus charged about Pharisees one time); but there are others who do even worse things (that’s kind of how he’s thinking God will see it).

That’s appealing in a certain way, isn’t it? It’s comforting to think, no matter how bad we are, there’s always somebody that looks worse. What?! You're giving me a speeding ticket, officer? There were people flyin’ right past me! That’s how we tend to think about a number of things, right? The issue in our minds isn’t as much that we were doing wrong, as that someone else was doing more wrong.

I told the students in chapel the other day about a time I wrote in tiny letters on the graffiti-filled bathroom stall at school: “I was here.” It was hardly the crime of the century (though it was a breaking of the rules). The principal hauled me down to the scene of the crime and made me clean every bit of graffiti off the stall—even though my part in it had been so tiny. I’d said, What?! But my part in it was so small compared to what others had done. I was trying to excuse my sin based on the gravity of others’ sins. I was guilty; that’s all that really mattered. By nature, we kind of think as long as there’s somebody else who’s a worse sinner than we are, we’ll get lenient treatment from God.

Jesus sees it differently in our text. In the end, about the one thinking in this way (comparing himself to others)—this one instructing God on how he should view his life, Jesus says that he didn’t go down to his house justified; meaning: God hasn’t excused this man’s sinfulness (even though the man himself has). As far as God is concerned, this man will answer for his sins regardless of the situation with the tax collector nearby or anyone else.

It’s about that other man in the Temple that day that Jesus says, this man went down to his house justified. And that’s interesting because that man—the tax collector, isn’t even trying to hide his sin. He’s putting it right out there. He’s beating his breast in shame. He’s hanging his head. He’s standing in the shadows. His words: ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’—are a prayer to God; but they express the same sentiment as St. Paul’s words with which we began our message—his words of great regret: I am the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. This man’s sin hadn’t been of the same sort as Paul’s, but he was filled with regret over it. He knew that he needed forgiveness for it.

And unlike the Pharisee, he was saying the words God wants to hear from every sinner: have mercy on me. Nothing is sweeter to His ears, because everything he wants for that person can be that case then. The mercy that He has punished His own perfect Son to provide can be applied to the account of that sinner as free and full forgiveness. The righteousness of Jesus, who has no sins of his own to confess, can be put onto that person, erasing all shame and regret.

You have shame and regret just like St. Paul had, and just like the tax collector in the parable had. You might describe yourself similarly to how Paul did, considering Christ to have appeared last of all to you, as to one untimely born—the least of all those who have been called, unworthy to be such because of your sins. But then, knowing that, why would you hold onto those things as if God hasn’t already provided the solution to them? Why would you try to make a Pharisaical claim before Him, as if pointing out others’ sins would be of any help to you?

Christ is the answer. Go before Him along with the tax collector and simply say, ‘God, be merciful to me, a sinner!’ And then along with him go away justified. Go away knowing that (as Paul says in the epistle), by the grace of God you are what you are—a citizen of God’s eternal kingdom—that place filled with forgiven sinners who have forsaken their own righteousness and put themselves at God’s mercy in Christ. That mercy is for you and any person who wants it. You are forgiven because of Christ. To Him be all glory and honor, both now and forevermore. Amen.

St. Luke 19:41-48

When [Jesus] drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold, saying to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer,’ but you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’ ”

And he was teaching daily in the temple. The chief priests and the scribes and the principal men of the people were seeking to destroy him, but they did not find anything they could do, for all the people were hanging on his words.

The theme you see on the bulletin’s cover: Renewed Obedience, is a reminder of the need we have. Our Old Testament lesson certainly reflects it. The prophet Jeremiah speaks the Lord’s words to Israel as they enter the Temple:

Amend your ways and your deeds, and I will let you dwell in this place. Do not trust in these deceptive words: ‘This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD.’

He meant by it, that people must be sincere in their worship—not just saying the words. It’s only really the Temple of the Lord if His Word and Name are being honored there; otherwise it’s just a building. Penitence (sorrow over sins) and being in God’s House kind of go together. People aren’t going to benefit from being in God’s House if they aren’t sorry about their sins—then, there’s always something between them and God. He’s offering them everything; but their guilt is standing in the way of them receiving it with joy. This occasion being in His house won’t be to them what He’s meant for it to be.

God wants people to benefit from being in His house; so he reminds them of how things need to be for that to be the case.

But then our sinful nature might run with that, and say, “Oh, well, I’m not feeling entirely sorry at this moment; so I’ll stay away…for now. When I’m feeling more sorry, I’ll come back.” Of course, that’s Satan’s work in us when we think that way. He’s gotten us to forget about the great need we have to be restored to God, to have the peace that comes from His grace. The worst thing we could ever do is stay away. Instead, we need to come sincerely, with a desire to have the Spirit change us by means of God’s Word and Supper. Amend your ways. We return to our Baptism in which God received us to Himself in grace.

It’s unusual for us to imagine Jesus driving people out of a place, isn’t it? I came that they may have life and have it abundantly (John 10:10)—that’s one of the things Jesus said one time. Another time, He said He came to seek and to save the lost (Luke 19:10). That’s the way we’re used to seeing Jesus portrayed in the Bible; so we must imagine something very wrong is happening in our text to necessitate what we see Him doing on this occasion (might even remind us of God driving the first people out of the paradise of the Garden after they’d sinned—Genesis 3).

In our text, there is a need for people to amend their ways that lead to their harm, for someone to shake them out of a pattern they’ve developed, to make them see what’s happening to them before it’s too late.

In the beginning of the text, Jesus isn’t driving anyone out of anywhere; He’s weeping at the condition of His people. They aren’t getting the fact that they’re in great danger. John’s preaching of repentance for the forgiveness of sins has had some impact, with many coming to be baptized; they’ve been directed to the Christ (even hanging on his words—Luke writes here). But the message of the Chief Priests and scribes—a message of opposition to the Christ—has been impactful too. The peoples’ religion in many ways has been an empty thing, a show without beneficial substance. The way the selling of sacrificial animals in the Temple is being conducted illustrates it. It has come to look more like business than anything related to eternal salvation. People are going through the motions; they’re doing something because it’s what they’ve always known, not because it’s so very meaningful to them.

I always value “fresh eyes” around here. We get so used to seeing things the way they are with our facilities and our property. We even get used to disrepair and ugliness, sadly. We lose the ability to see ourselves as someone coming in from the outside sees us. We can be blind to things that would give people pause about coming to our church and school. That’s certainly the last thing we’d want. “Fresh eyes”—a new person coming in, seeing things for the first time gives us a perspective that we’ve no longer had.

Jesus’ “fresh eyes” at the temple are necessary to alert the people to a spiritual complacency that has set in among them, that endangers their souls. His weeping confirms that they’re in this situation (in case there would be any question of it). They haven’t known the things that make for peace—peace with God, that means. They’ve lost perspective on what it means to be God’s people, and under what circumstances a person inherits His kingdom.

Amend your ways and your deeds. The Lord’s words are for you, too. They speak to your own tendency to come to a place like this, where so much is supposed to happen—the very things of God being offered to you for salvation (In every place where I cause my name to be remembered I will come to you and bless you [God’s words from Exodus 20:24]). People can come to this place, though, and leave empty, having carried out a meaningless exercise.

It isn’t that for you, though, is it? We said you have that tendency; but it hasn’t really become the case…has it? You aren’t here just out of habit, just because…it’s what you do… You’ve never allowed yourself to be distracted as you sat among God’s things, with the cares of this life, or a typo in the bulletin, or some other thing going on in the room. You haven’t let your resentment of someone cause you to hear only little parts of what was being said. Amend your ways and your deeds, the Lord says to you, too, this morning.

The solution to this need that all of us have, is made known in the these words from the last portion of our text: And [Jesus] was teaching daily in the temple. That earlier quote from Exodus comes from the portion just after Moses’ giving of the Ten Commandments from Mt. Sinai. God says to the people who are just beginning their forty-year journey through the desert to the Promised Land, that they must not make fancy silver and gold representations of imagined other gods. Rather, they will build altars of earth on which to make sacrifices to Him. In these sorts of places He will cause His Name to be remembered among them, and will bless them. He’ll do what He really wants to do; He’ll give them His Word, and through the Spirit’s work in it, strong faith in Him that concludes in eternal life in His kingdom.

That’s the sort of environment Jesus is trying to preserve in our text—that place in which God will be present with His Means of Grace for the people.

But the people who come there are sinners. It’s necessary for them—for you—to hear: Amend your ways and your deeds. “Prepare your hearts” is another way to say it. Repent. Jesus’ daily teaching in the Temple was most certainly the message of God’s grace for sinners. He’s the One Who has brought it. This One Who, with perfection, has honored God stands in the place of those who have failed in it—stands in your place. This One Whose heart has no need of amending stands in the place of those who are guilty of empty, meaningless, rote, distracted worship. He lived perfectly for you; He died, also, for you on a cross in payment for your sins.

In this place—this house of prayer, this temple of the Lord, this place where God causes His Name to be remembered—we hang on Jesus’ Words, because in Him we have forgiveness and salvation. In His Words we come to know the things that make for peace. For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes, St. Paul writes (Romans 10:4). That’s the sort of message He was teaching daily in the Temple. In Him, you no longer have any hopeless need of making a case for yourself before God. Your case has been made in the perfect life and sacrificial death of the Christ. You are perfect before God in Him. That knowledge is not hidden from your eyes. You have known the time of your visitation. Now is the time. Now, you hear this message of salvation through which God intends to preserve your faith unto eternal life. There isn’t any other message. You come into a place like this, on a morning like this, with a heart prepared in penitence to receive the gifts of God’s grace.

Among those gifts, also you receive the Sacrament—the true body and blood of Christ along with bread and wine. Recognize in that, God’s peace given for your nourishment and strengthening during the time in which you remain in this world. It is the body that was given to be destroyed in this world so you could be remade. And you are that. You are Christ’s new creation by water and the word, as our hymn says. With His own blood He bought you. And for your life He died. To Him be glory, both now and forever. Amen.

Jeremiah 7:1-7

The Word that came to Jeremiah from the LORD: “Stand in the gate of the LORD’s house, and proclaim there this word, and say, Hear the word of the LORD, all you men of Judah who enter these gates to worship the Lord. Thus says the LORD of hosts, the God of Israel: Amend your ways and your deeds, and I will let you dwell in this place. Do not trust in these deceptive words: ‘This is the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD, the temple of the LORD.’

“For if you truly amend your ways and your deeds, if you truly execute justice one with another, if you do not oppress the sojourner, the fatherless, or the widow, or shed innocent blood in this place, and if you do not go after other gods to your own harm, then I will let you dwell in this place, in the land that I gave of old to your fathers forever.”

Romans 8:12-17

Now concerning spiritual gifts, brothers, I do not want you to be uninformed. You know that when you were pagans you were led astray to mute idols, however you were led. Therefore I want you to understand that no one speaking in the Spirit of God ever says “Jesus is accursed!” and no one can say “Jesus is Lord” except in the Holy Spirit.

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone. To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. For to one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the ability to distinguish between spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. All these are empowered by one and the same Spirit, who apportions to each one individually as he wills.

Luke 16:1-9

[Jesus said], He also said to the disciples, “There was a rich man who had a manager, and charges were brought to him that this man was wasting his possessions. And he called him and said to him, ‘What is this that I hear about you? Turn in the account of your management, for you can no longer be manager.’ And the manager said to himself, ‘What shall I do, since my master is taking the management away from me? I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg. I have decided what to do, so that when I am removed from management, people may receive me into their houses.’ So, summoning his master's debtors one by one, he said to the first, ‘How much do you owe my master?’ He said, ‘A hundred measures of oil.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, and sit down quickly and write fifty.’ Then he said to another, ‘And how much do you owe?’ He said, ‘A hundred measures of wheat.’ He said to him, ‘Take your bill, and write eighty.’ The master commended the dishonest manager for his shrewdness. For the sons of this world are more shrewd in dealing with their own generation than the sons of light. And I tell you, make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings.

Turn in the account of your management. Those are the words a certain man says in our text when firing his manager. Jesus is discussing the potential of this world’s things to replace God and His kingdom. He says it in the presence of Pharisees, who St. Luke tells us, were lovers of money. It’s a warning to us, that we not trade eternal treasure for what passes away with this world. We are entrusted with God’s things like a manager is entrusted with his employer’s things. The master’s command: Turn in the account of your management can remind us of the day in which we will stand before God in His kingdom. And the Bible talks about people giving an accounting to God in this way. So then each of us will give an account of himself to God, St. Paul writes (Romans 14:12).

It’s interesting that the theme you see in the bulletin, The Shrewd Manager, ignores everything we know about the man’s employment except for the one preparation he makes as he is about to gather up his things. That’s what makes him the shrewd manager; not anything else that has come before—none of the foolish wastefulness, none of the squandering of the master’s generosity that has made him a “situation” that needed to be dealt with.

Now, we noted that we are entrusted with God’s things like a manager is entrusted with his employer’s things. In Baptism (or through the hearing of God’s Word) God entrusted us with faith in Jesus that saves from sin’s punishment—eternal death. Since He’s the One Who has given us the possession of the faith we have, we are stewards of our Master’s possession. And He has supplied us with everything that might be needed to manage that possession successfully. His Word is a living, active thing for us, thanks to the power of the Holy Spirit, Who works in it (Heb. 4:12). It nourishes this possession of faith over which we are our Master’s stewards. And, as if that weren’t enough with which to manage this possession of our Master’s, He has provided His Supper through which, mysteriously, He gives us the very thing that saves us—His true body and blood. He even said that He gives it to us for the remission of sins. What more could we possibly need to manage our Master’s possession—this faith that He powerfully tends unto eternal life? But, as we said, this world’s things have the potential to replace God and His kingdom to us.

The manager in Jesus’ parable certainly doesn’t have God’s eternal kingdom in mind as he make arrangements for his next landing place. This scoundrel makes himself a friend to the master’s debtors at the master’s expense. He will have a place to go when this is all over; he’s made sure of it. Nothing has gotten in the way of it being the case.

It’s that particular detail that Jesus seizes upon when He calls the manager shrewd, and encourages his listeners to be that way when it comes to God’s kingdom (not the dishonest part, of course, but the shrewd part—the part about doing whatever it takes to end up in the good place). In the same way that the manager has carefully considered his situation (‘What shall I do…I am not strong enough to dig, and I am ashamed to beg…I have decided what to do”—and so forth), Jesus is saying that a person must consider his eternal situation.

We talked a little about faith that has come to us through Baptism and through the Word. We might say that through faith God has given us the ability to rightly consider our eternal situation. He has given us all of the info. that is necessary. The parable’s manager says, “What shall I do?” He knows the facts: because of his own fault, he faces what to him are unacceptable consequences. That can’t be my end, he thinks to himself. It mustn’t be!

Isn’t it the same for us when we consider our eternal situation? We know our own set of facts: because of our own fault, we face unacceptable consequences (…the wages of sin is death, the Bible says—eternal death and punishment [Rom. 6:23]). And by God’s grace through faith, we are able to think to ourselves, That can’t be our end…it mustn’t be! We will make whatever preparation is necessary, so that we won’t suffer sin’s consequences. We will make use of God’s Word and Supper provided as that preparation.

And yet, Jesus is warning us in this parable. It follows the prodigal son account, in which a young man demanded his inheritance so he could go out and immerse himself in the pleasures of this world. It’s immediately followed by a section in which Jesus says, “No servant can serve two masters….You cannot serve God and money (16:13).” On Jesus’ mind is the danger that faces his listeners in this world. Their sinful nature is deceptive. It shows them things that look so appealing. It makes promises to them, of joy, and satisfaction, and fulfillment in what is really replacing God and His eternal kingdom in their lives. It’s a deception that leads to destruction.

We briefly mentioned that we will stand before God in His kingdom to give an accounting (we went by it pretty fast; but it might have caught your attention). In the parable, a charge has been brought against the manager. Someone has information on him that makes him dead to rights, as they say. He’s guilty. There isn’t any question that he’s done what he’s being accused of, and faces the consequences of his actions.

In the Revelation, Satan is called the accuser of our brothers (12:10). He’s the one bringing the charges against people who are standing before God. In a way (like in the parable) he’s the one saying, this person has been wasteful of the master’s possessions (wasteful in this sense means, sinful). He has no right to be with God now; he must be me. Even though God has provided the means through which sin is resisted, faith is nourished, etc, this person has repeatedly broken God’s Commandments. You have repeatedly broken God’s Commandments. You have tried to serve two masters—both God and money. You have been enamored with the view as the sinful nature showed you things that looked so appealing. You have been taken in by its promises of joy, and satisfaction, and fulfillment in what is really replacing God and His eternal kingdom in your life.

We said that the bulletin’s theme, The Shrewd Manager, ignores everything we know about the man’s employment except for the one preparation he makes as he is about to gather up his things.

What a comfort that can be for us when applied (as we have in all these other things) to our eternal situation. Jesus is saying that being a shrewd manager of that particular preparation—that eternal preparation—erases everything that came before it. And it isn’t us and our preparing that does the erasing. The greater portion of that Revelation passage says this: “Now the salvation and the power and the kingdom of our God and the authority of his Christ have come, for the accuser of our brothers has been thrown down, who accuses them day and night before our God (Rev. 12:10).” The preparing we’re doing is simply not losing hold of what has been entrusted to us by God’s grace. It’s allowing the Spirit to tighten our grip on it through the Word and Supper given for that purpose.

While there is no shortage of charges that could be brought against all of us, they come to nothing in the presence of Christ. He is the One Who is unfailing in His faithfulness. Nothing about His service could be questioned. And His service is what stands in the place of yours before God. In Him, your accounting before God is a perfect accounting. It is the accounting that considers your sins entirely and freely forgiven. They don’t exist anymore in the accounting; they are entirely removed with no further accusation able to be leveled. In Christ, you are the truly shrewd manager of God’s eternal things. There is no question that in Him you are assured of having the best place to go. To Him be glory, then, both now and forever. Amen.

St Matthew 5:20-26

[Jesus said] “For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

“You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire. So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are going with him to court, lest your accuser hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you be put in prison. Truly, I say to you, you will never get out until you have paid the last penny.”

Our hymn does a good job of explaining the issue of sin in our relationship to God. And just in case we would be inclined to start thinking about it, and considering various ways to justify ourselves (‘cause we do that), making light of our sins (comparing them to others’ sins, for instance; why should I be treated the same as someone who killed someone?—that kind of thing), the hymn writer notes what makes us sinners in the first place.

It isn’t a lapse of judgment in this or that moment of life;

it isn’t “making poor choices,” like is often said today.

In Adam We Have All Been One. The hymn writer is talking about the Bible’s doctrine called original sin. We are sinners because we have inherited what Adam was (or, what he became when he sinned). We inherited being sinners. We inherited the inability for ourselves not to be sinners, and the guilt, then, that comes from being sinners.

In pointing out to His listeners in our text, that they’re sinners (necessary if they’re going to be of a mind to be saved), Jesus uses the example of how we tend to treat one another. The hymn writer addresses this in his second verse:

We fled Thee, and in losing Thee

We lost our brother too;

Each singly sought and claimed his own;

Each man his brother slew [referring, apparently, to Cain’s killing of his brother Abel].

Slew is a form of the word slay or kill. This well-interprets Jesus’ statement in our text: everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment. He’s comparing—in fact—being angry with our brother to murder. Of course, St. John speaks similarly: Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer (1 John 3:15). So, part of being sinners is this tendency we have to be self-serving—to claim our own, as the hymn writer says; to treat each other badly.

And when God is thinking about sin, He isn’t really putting it on a scale, like we might want to do. He isn’t saying, this sin is a really serious one; this sin doesn’t really matter very much. Sin is sin. It’s our condition as sinners that matters; not how serious (or minor) we think our sins are.

Even when it comes to Jesus’ example, we tend to think, Well, I don’t do such a bad job of treating people well. I’m

• generous with my possessions. I’m

• kind to my family and friends. I’m

• known as a pretty nice person in my workplace, I think.

You know what? —I think I’ve got this! Jesus’ example doesn’t apply to me; just other people. And, while all of those things we said about ourselves might be true (you might have been nodding along as I read them), Jesus says in our text that even all that doesn’t cover it.

That’s He means by, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Scribes and Pharisees tended to think all of those nice  things about themselves. Others thought it of them too. But Jesus is saying that as good a picture as they were presenting of themselves, it isn’t enough to make them right before God. And anyone thinking he must only live up to their standard is mistaken. In Adam We Have All Been One. Those men had inherited the same sinfulness. They were guilty like anyone else. Jesus was saying, you can’t use them as a standard; they’re in the same boat. The Psalmist writes:

Enter not into judgment with your servant, for no one living is righteous before you (143:2).

In Adam we have all been one,

One huge rebellious man;

We all have fled that evening voice

That sought us as we ran.

The solution to the issue of sin in our relationship to God can’t be to tell him He’s mistaken in how He assesses us. It can’t be to say to God, Yeah, you know, I hear what you’re saying…but I’ve been going over some things, and I think it might be necessary for you to reconsider your position on the matter. After all, on March 14, 2014, I sacrificed being to work on time so I could help a little old lady across the street. That’s kindness. In Adam we have all been one. If we are to be judged by God on who and what we are, then it’s on the basis of the sinful nature we have inherited from Adam (the sinful lives we’ve rendered too, if we’re being honest with ourselves—an episode or two of helping little old ladies across the street not withstanding).

The hymn writer, in verse 3, gets to what the answer needs to be:

But Thy strong love, it sought us still

And sent Thine only Son

That we might hear His shepherd’s voice

And, hearing Him, be one

Jesus is the answer, the solution to the issue of sin in our relationship to God. He’s the One Who loved and saved us all when we loved Him not—in the hymn writer’s words. He’s the Great Good Shepherd. He hasn’t inherited the nature we have, that demonstrates itself in unkindness and hatred. He prayed for the forgiveness of His murderers on the cross! He’s the One Who descended from His throne on high to take the place of sinners, making up for their hatred with His perfect love that caused Him even to bear the shame of the cross.

But that sinful nature we have is persistent. It keeps wanting to be a Pharisee and a scribe. We keep wanting to think of ourselves as being in a better position than most people. We want to celebrate somehow, that more of the time, or to at least a little greater extent we do what God wants instead of plowing headlong into what He doesn’t want. Jesus’ message in this text is designed to tell us, Yeah, don’t even bother with that sort of thinking. God looks at the whole world and sees sinners. And sinners are condemned in so far as their own merits are concerned. We wouldn’t ever want God to play that game with us, where we try to convince Him that, while others need His saving, we…maybe don’t. Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Unless you are even more perfect than they try to convince the world they are, you will certainly have removed yourself from God’s kingdom, that means.

So, the hymn writer rightly concludes in the 5th verse:

Send us Thy Spirit, teach us truth;

Thou Son, O set us free

From fancied wisdom, self-sought ways,

And make us one in Thee.

Send us Thy Spirit—“Do what you’ve promised to do when we hear Your Word,” in other words. Break this spell that we’re under, that imagines our own goodness; our own fitness for your Kingdom. Let us see our need. Move us to humble ourselves before you so that Your Son can set us free. He’s our only hope. Jesus is the One whose righteousness has been placed upon us to cover our guilt. That’s our solution—not making a run at exceeding the righteousness of Pharisees and scribes; but rather, Christ.

Since He has used our unkindness to our neighbor as His example of our sin, Jesus takes it a step further, offering this advice: So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. Jesus knows He’s telling them something that’s going to hit home. We have experienced disharmony with people, haven’t we? It’s one of the things about this life that clearly illustrates our situation, clearly illustrates that in Adam We Have All Been One.

We’re reminded of it in the last of Jesus’ parting words of encouragement in our text. In that portion of His illustration He mentions an accuser, and a judge, and a penalty. Not only might that be our situation in this world (depending on what direction our sins might take us), but much of that reminds us again of the issue of sin in our relationship to God. A reconciliation in that relationship could never be brought about by us coming to terms with God. We could only be reconciled with Him in Christ, Who lived perfectly in our place, and Who made payment for our sins with His innocent sacrifice. In Him your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees. In Him you are fit to enter God’s kingdom. In Him there is no one to accuse you. He has taken every accusation of yours, suffered every penalty. The issue of sin in your relationship to God is forever solved in Jesus. To His Name be glory both now and forever. Amen.

Exodus 20:1-17

God spoke all these words, saying, “I am
the LORD your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.

“You shall have no other gods before me.

“You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the LORD your God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children to the third and the fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing steadfast love to thousands of those who love me and keep my commandments.

“You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain, for the LORD will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.

“Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days you shall labor, and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, you, or your son, or your daughter, your male servant, or your female servant, or your livestock, or the sojourner who is within your gates. For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy.

Romans 6:3-11

Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.
For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from
sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus.

Trinity 5-St. Luke 5:1-11 (2022)

On one occasion, while the crowd was pressing in on [Jesus] to hear the word of God, he was standing by the lake of Gennesaret, and he saw two boats by the lake, but the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. Getting into one of the boats, which was Simon's, he asked him to put out a little from the land. And he sat down and taught the people from the boat. And when he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” And Simon answered, “Master, we toiled all night and took nothing! But at your word I will let down the nets.” And when they had done this, they enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking. They signaled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” For he and all who were with him were astonished at the catch of fish that they had taken, and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed him.

When my family and I were traveling in the last several days, we went again to the area in which I grew up, in North Texas. As I was driving around reminiscing, I was asking myself many times, Why is this so important to me?—seeing the old places, connecting the dots of what’s still like I remembered it, what’s changed. More on that to come…

At the end of our text, St. Luke says Simon and his fellow fishermen/fellow future disciples left everything and followed Jesus;

Have you done that?

Though St. Luke might not have been speaking philosophically like that (he might just have been talking about them leaving behind nets and boats, and fishing articles), sometimes we read it philosophically like that, don’t we (I do, anyway). In that bigger sense too, it’s what they did. Considering what happened after this moment (three years of training under him so they might bring His message to the world), we read it, that they were leaving more behind than those things related to their work; they were leaving behind a life without Christ for one with Him. They were leaving behind a life that concerns itself primarily with the machinations of this passing world for one in which God’s kingdom is the most important thing.

Have you done that?

We're going to talk about what it means to do that.

Jesus would say some time later: “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God (Luke 9:62).” —Meaning: if you’re going to do it, do it. There’s no partway in this. In our Old Testament lesson, when God says through the prophet Jeremiah, I will bring [the people of Israel] back to their own land that I gave to their fathers, in the most important sense of it, He is talking about an eternal land. He’s taking about His eternal kingdom that gathers up all who will allow themselves to be gathered, so that they might inherit the paradise that God has prepared for them (when He says things like, behold, the days are coming, we know He is talking in this Messianic kingdom kind of way).

Traveling back to North Texas. Driving around reminiscing. Why do I feel compelled to go back over that ground? No doubt psychologists would have a certain explanation. My simple conclusion is that a part of the way God made us is to value the things we remember, the feelings we felt. We value what we think of as home (which might be combination of many places we’ve been, actually), even though we go on from there to other things in life that are greater and more important. We feel grounded in a certain way in that time and place. It’s an important part of us being human, that we want to feel this connection to whatever sense we have of where we came from.

And yet, the Bible’s message over and over and over, is that there is something even more important than that. Where we came from is more than our old neighborhood. Always present along with my excitement about seeing the old places was the realization that this is a world that moves on toward an end. This isn’t what lasts. It doesn’t last just as surely as many of the places I spent time at and valued at one time are long gone, replaced with other things. Were we to consider this to be the final destination, we would be clinging to what passes away.

The writer to the Hebrews made a big point about this when he talked about the believers of the past—Abraham, and the like, who were looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God (11). It isn’t that they despised where they’d been in this world. It isn’t that they didn’t reminisce and have nostalgic feelings for them (like we do); but they knew they were just passing through those places on their way to the greater place.

In our text, it seemed pretty important to the men in the boats that they catch fish. In their conversation about it, Simon gives Jesus a fisherman’s most discouraging report: “we toiled all night and took nothing!” But a fisherman’s got to catch fish. The way he lives his life depends on it. He sells the fish so he has money to live; that’s how it works. That’s the reality of this life, isn’t it? It’s the practical concern that every one of us faces. We have all sorts of those things that we face here.

And we’re not told to ignore them, or to make light of them. We aren’t told they aren’t important. Jesus doesn’t tell Simon that it’s ridiculous that he work so hard at catching fish, or that he be disappointed at not catching any. He doesn’t say it isn’t important that people catch fish. In fact, He kind of deals with that important practical concern first, and then directs Him to what’s even more important.

In terms of dealing with the practical concern, Jesus says to Simon, “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” Of course, Simon’s immediate recollection at those words would be of a night just passed in which many hours of work have been entirely without result.

I’ve been out fishing and caught nothing a number of times. It was boring and disappointing; but it was only for the potential fun of it in the first place. My livelihood didn’t depend on it. I wasn’t going to go home and face devastated long faces who had been relying on what represented income at the end of that night. Not the same for them, though. Those hours out in the boat must have been dreadful ones. No doubt the fishermen were asking themselves how many more nights they could afford to have this happen, and then considering what a new plan for feeding their loved ones would have to be.

We might well imagine that Simon is reluctant about dragging the boat back out there after the nets have been washed and everything’s been put away; but he has respect for this one he calls Master. “At your word," he says, “I will let down the nets.” And, of course, there’s a miracle—so many fish, they can’t even deal with them all.

Can God handle the concerns you have in this world? Yes. This says, yes, He can. It said it to Simon, and it says it to you.

Simon’s reaction to the great catch of fish is always an interesting portion of this text, isn’t it? He doesn’t jump up and down with excitement. He doesn’t come running and hug Jesus. If anything, he keeps at a distance. He’s afraid. He drops to his knees. The reality of his place before God [brought into sharp focus in this moment] is even more frightening to him than the practical consequences of not catching fish. We said we were going to talk about what it means to leave everything and follow Jesus. The humility that Simon demonstrates in this text is an essential component of it. No one can really follow Jesus unless he has left behind the illusion that he doesn’t belong on his knees before the perfect God. Every one of us does; don’t ever forget that. We stand as an indication of this humility during the Confession of Sins; the Church used to kneel before that went out of fashion.

This same sort of scenario was played out at your Baptism (or at your conversion through hearing God’s Word). The Holy Spirit’s first order of business was to present the true God to you in all His glory (isn’t that what Jesus also does with the great catch of fish in the text?), and have you cower before Him like Simon does here. Because even in your infancy, you were a sinner before the perfect God (in sin my mother conceived me, the Psalmist writes [51:5]). You’d inherited a sinful flesh. You had no business before God if your situation was going to continue as it had been. The Psalmist comments on this in a way, when he says, If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? He means that if God were to consider what we are by nature when determining if we can be with Him or not, none of us would be there. If you were holding onto a sense that you were good enough in your own right to stand before God, you’d never be interested in His saving; so it was necessary that you put this thing all of us have—this natural self-security—away as the first order of business.

But God didn’t intend that you remain terrified of Him, like Simon was in the text. The Spirit presented God’s grace to you in your Baptism, and a change occurred. You came to know of God’s mercy for sinners to be found in His perfect Son Who made atonement for sins.

Have you left everything and followed Jesus? We’ve been talking about the need to prioritize God’s kingdom that lasts over this world that doesn’t (though we live this life; we live every moment of it with all its importance). The most important thing the disciples were leaving their fishing to go and do, was listen to Jesus—listen to His Word, that He would go on to call the one thing that is necessary (Luke 10:42).

Neglecting that necessary Word might be one of the things Simon was thinking about when he lamented to the Lord, I am a sinful man. The worry of catching enough fish might have kept him from it. Your worry about your own concerns in this life has kept you from devoting yourself to that necessary Word as well. It has felt sometimes, like you didn’t have any choice but to neglect God’s Word. The devil is so good at getting us to think that way. When we confessed this morning that we have sinned against [God] by thought, word, and deed, this neglect of His Word was one of the things on the list of those sins—this prioritizing of this passing kingdom over His eternal one. It’s one of the things that demonstrates that we can’t stand before Him on our own merits.

The One who demonstrates His godly glory in our text with a great miracle can stand before the perfect God because He is God. His earthly human life was entirely without sin. He would never have any reason to feel like Simon felt, or like we feel when we consider our sins. He stands before God in the judgment in our place, making us perfect before God.

Hear Jesus’ words to Simon this morning, and consider them as said also to you: “Do not be afraid.” Jesus is your Savior. There isn’t anything He can’t do to help you in this life, and more importantly, to bring you safely to the one that is eternal, in His kingdom.

That kingdom is the only lasting one. As important as it was for the men in our text to catch fish, even more important was following Jesus. At a certain point the last fish will have been caught, the last meal prepared, the last payment made for goods in this world. Our last breath will be breathed too. None of the things we toil at and concern ourselves with will be important then. But God’s kingdom remains. It doesn’t (like this world) move on toward an end. It truly lasts. Jesus is the One Who is worth leaving everything else to follow. To Him be the glory, both now and forever. Amen.

Other Lessons This Week:

Jeremiah 16:14-21

“Therefore, behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when it shall no longer be said, ‘As the Lord lives who brought up the people of Israel out of the land of Egypt,’ but ‘As the Lord lives who brought up the people of Israel out of the north country and out of all the countries where he had driven them.’ For I will bring them back to their own land that I gave to their fathers.

“Behold, I am sending for many fishers, declares the Lord, and they shall catch them. And afterward I will send for many hunters, and they shall hunt them from every mountain and every hill, and out of the clefts of the rocks. For my eyes are on all their ways. They are not hidden from me, nor is their iniquity concealed from my eyes. But first I will doubly repay their iniquity and their sin, because they have polluted my land with the carcasses of their detestable idols, and have filled my inheritance with their abominations.”

O Lord, my strength and my stronghold,
    my refuge in the day of trouble,
to you shall the nations come
    from the ends of the earth and say:
“Our fathers have inherited nothing but lies,
    worthless things in which there is no profit.

Can man make for himself gods?
    Such are not gods!”

“Therefore, behold, I will make them know, this once I will make them know my power and my might, and they shall know that my name is the Lord.”

1 Peter 3:8-15

Finally, all of you, have unity of mind, sympathy, brotherly love, a tender heart, and a humble mind. Do not repay evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary, bless, for to this you were called, that you may obtain a blessing. For

“Whoever desires to love life
    and see good days,
let him keep his tongue from evil
    and his lips from speaking deceit;

let him turn away from evil and do good;
    let him seek peace and pursue it.

For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous,
    and his ears are open to their prayer.
But the face of the Lord is against those who do evil.”

Now who is there to harm you if you are zealous for what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness' sake, you will be blessed. Have no fear of them, nor be troubled, but in your hearts honor Christ the Lord as holy, always being prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for a reason for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and respect.

[NO VIDEO AVAILABLE THIS WEEK, SORRY]

Romans 11:33-36

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! “For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor? Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?” For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen.

Our text stands on its own as a powerful statement about the identity of God. We have this morning confessed the Athanasian Creed of the Christian Church, as we do on this Festival of the Holy Trinity each year. Our confessing of this creed reminds us of how Scripture reveals the true God. It’s even more explicit in this than the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds that we usually use (and that’s saying something!). In this creed theologians have carefully expressed that God is beyond our comprehension (we don’t have experience with anyone else who’s like this). He is three persons, but one God (Tri-une). None of the persons is greater or lesser than the others. Each is revealed to have different characteristics and emphases though. St. Paul concludes our text directing his readers to this God. To him be glory forever, he says.

But what Paul has said here is a concluding statement in a larger discussion.

Within that discussion he asks and answers a question he thinks might have occurred to his readers. The question: Has God rejected his people (Romans 11:1)?

He thinks it might occur to them to ask it because he has been discussing the fact that God’s people have been so unfaithful, like their ancestors in Elijah’s time (that prophet had complained to God, that His idolatrous people had killed all the rest of the prophets, and now were seeking his life also—1 Kings 19:10). And Paul is saying that the Israelites of his day are no better. They aren’t worshipping idols like their forbears; but they’ve made idols of themselves in a way—rejecting Jesus as Savior, and, as Paul says, seeking to establish their own [righteousness] (Romans 10:3). Their righteousness, they think, is in being circumcised, and in doing the works of the Law.

Proclaiming God’s glory in our text, Paul makes the statement:

Who has given a gift to [God] that he might be repaid? In other words: Who could be so righteous in himself that God owes him something?

Paul’s fellow Jews were thinking that being related to Abraham and doing good works were like gifts they were giving to God. And their presumption was that they’d obligated God to repay them for those gifts with eternal life in His kingdom. They had established their own righteousness, they thought (they were wrong).

This is the way God was seeing their “righteousness” (Paul says their wickedness is like what led God to say about the people of Isaiah’s time):

“All day long I have held out my hands to a disobedient and contrary people (Romans 10:21).”

God is the one who determines what makes a person righteous before Him, not people. He makes us righteous by giving us Christ’s righteousness to cover our guilt. He forgives us because of what Christ has done; it isn’t anything in us.

This desire of people to establish their own righteousness apart from Christ didn’t end with the Jews of Paul’s time. It’s our nature to do this. You have the same tendency. You have to be reminded each week, that when you stand before God in the judgment, nothing about your life is going to impress Him; only that Christ’s righteousness has been placed upon you (by Him) to cover your guilt. Your church attendance doesn’t make up for your sins. Neither do your acts of charity, or your good reputation in the community. The way Paul’s fellow Jews were seeing themselves (as all around good people) was kind of making them think they had all they needed. What’d they need a Savior for, when they were such apparently godly people? In fact: didn’t God owe them something for all this goodness?

When Paul makes the point he makes in our text, about no one being able to give a gift to God for which He must repay him, he’s reminding you of your real situation before God. He said it this way in one of his letters: You were dead in your trespasses and sins, and the uncircumcision of your flesh (Colossians 2:13). He meant there was nothing his readers could do to get close to God’s kingdom as they were by nature. They were entirely lost so far as it depended on them. God has to do every bit of it.

That’s your situation too, and mine, according to our nature. Whenever you’ve thought for a moment that you were different from other people, that you belonged in God’s kingdom because of something you could bring forward (and that you were not entirely at God’s mercy, and in severest need of His undeserved love), you were kidding yourself, and you were treading the path that leads to hell. And if you tend even now, to think, Why am I wasting my time here? God and I are good. He sees what I have to offer. Then hear God’s words through the prophet Ezekiel in our Old Testament lesson: Repent and turn from all your transgressions, lest iniquity be your ruin. Hear Jesus tell Nicodemus in our Gospel lesson: unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God. He meant by that, that what we are isn’t fit for God’s kingdom. He must change us, put Christ’s righteousness upon us, erase from the record what our own deeds have produced.

Paul has something else to say in this text. He has asked, Who has given [God] a gift that he might be repaid? He has echoed the sentiments of the Psalmist, who writes: Enter not into judgment with your servant, for no one living is righteous before you (143:2).

Also, now, he declares: How unsearchable are [God’s] judgments and how inscrutable his ways! On this day in which we reflect on the magnitude of God’s glory, we consider with Paul God’s incomprehensible grace.

The answer to Paul’s question of whether God has rejected His people is a resounding NO! In fact, Paul goes on to explain, God had an extraordinary plan to be merciful not only to His own covenant people, but also to others who had previously been outside of that covenant—the Gentiles. Astonishingly, it had been God’s plan—during a low ebb in the history of His own people (Abraham’s descendants), when they were uninterested in Him and His saving—to make Himself known to others. Every person in the world is in the same boat, after all, needing kindness from God, needing forbearance (patience while the Spirit works through the message about Him to bring people to faith). This God who desires all people to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth (1 Timothy 2:4) determined to go after those who hadn’t been seeking Him. And Paul even mentions that a by-product of this new outreach might just be that God’s covenant people would take a second look. They would be envious that what had been theirs was now going to someone else, and would grab ahold of it again. How unsearchable are [God’s] judgments and how inscrutable his ways! If someone were going to write a fiction of how God might operate, they wouldn’t write that!

The most important thing we see in this God Whose essence we have explored so extensively this morning is His grace toward sinners. This one Who devises intricate plans to save people from their sins is also the one Who is devoted to saving you from yours. You didn’t have any gift for God obligating Him to repay you, so He made His own Son that, offering Him as what makes you righteous to stand before Him in the judgment. That Son’s true righteousness stands in the place of whatever attempts you might have made to establish a false righteousness. He’s the One to Whom the Father would never have to say, Repent and turn from all your transgressions; so He can take yours upon Himself and make the payment. And He did, make the payment. Your sins are forgiven for His sake.

There’s that part at the end of the Athanasian Creed that sometimes confuses people—the part that says: And they that have done good will enter life everlasting; and they that have done evil into everlasting fire. By His grace, God is able and willing to see you before Him apart from your sins. He will see you as having put on the garment of Christ’s righteousness instead. And when He sees you that way He only sees the perfect life that Jesus lived for you. He only sees someone who has done good. You are represented by Christ before Him through faith. And that being the case, you enter into life everlasting, as the creed says. Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways….to Him be glory forever. Amen.

OTHER LESSONS FOR THIS WEEK:

Ezekiel 18:30-33

Therefore I will judge you, O house of Israel, every one according to his ways, declares the LORD God. Repent and turn from all your transgressions, lest iniquity be your ruin. Cast away from you all the transgressions that you have committed, and make yourselves a new heart and a new spirit! Why will you die, O house of Israel? For I have no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the LORD God; so turn, and live.

St. John 3:1-15

Now there was a man of the Pharisees named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews. This man came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.” Jesus answered him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter a second time into his mother's womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he can- not enter the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you the teacher of Israel and yet you do not understand these things? Truly, truly, I say to you, we speak of what we know, and bear witness to what we have seen, but you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except he who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life.”