I started using the word clouds a long time ago for the image. Originally I thought it was artistic cute: a Word cloud for preaching the Word. But, as I made them I started to realize they did have something to say, and what they had to say too seeing a few. There was always the simple surface fact of the most commonly used words. Like above – Luther and Jesus. I learned and adapted over the years that if “God” was the biggest word, the sermon was probably too generic. I looked for Father or Jesus or Spirit to show up. But there are a variety of shapes that show up. The clouds that are dominated by 2-3 big words and everything else is small are usually the simplest. They tend to be more about proclamation. At the other end are ones like the above. There are lots of words that are large enough to be read, but none that really just pop. Those tend to be less pure proclamation and more teaching or invitation to ponder. The every Sunday preacher has to have a bigger repertoire than the occasional. The lectionary preacher even more so, if he wants to preach the text and not just what is on his mind that week.
Matthew 18 is a deeper text than we normally treat it. Depending upon if our preference is for Young Luther or Old Luther (listen to the sermon), we tend to reduce it to “The Process” for solving disputes in the church, or reduce it to the ridiculousness of even thinking about the law parallel to Jesus’ hyperbole about cutting off body parts. We aren’t going to do that and the Father would not want that, so thinking in sin counting terms must be just wrong. I hope that this sermon was an invitation to think beyond those simplistic reductions. The Christian Life has a simplicity to it, but those are caricatures. That simplicity is the one found on the other side of a complexity.
I’m not sure if it is simply because I’m an area pastor, or if it is because I have two boys in the school, for one of those reasons I get to lead the Valley Lutheran Chapel occasionally. Their chapel functions a little differently than our typical worship service. We start with assigned readings – the lectionary. Those reading are shared each Sunday in a large majority of Churches. It is one of the good outcomes of the 20th century ecumenical movement. Valley’s Chapel starts with a topic. So instead of being assigned say Hebrews 12:2 as a text, I was assigned the topic: Why did Jesus die?
For most of us who have been Christians for a long time that particular question is not one we spend a lot of time reflecting upon. And if we do ponder it, we have set dogmatic answers that we accept because they make sense. The biggest of those answers is at the root of substitutionary atonement. Jesus died because only Jesus – sinless God-Man – was a worthy sacrifice for sin. Christ was our substitute. And if we are biblically literate, we might recall Abraham sacrificing Isaac and being stopped at the last moment and God providing the Ram. And we might recall the long history of Temple sacrifice of the lamb without blemish on the day of Atonement. So when the lamb of God – Jesus – shows up, his death is a necessity.
But for as bloody as that metaphor is, I’m not sure it resonates as a reason to those not deeply embedded in the story. To a pagan, the idea of my God dying would be crazy. And we should understand something here, the audience, at least a portion of the audience of even a Lutheran High School, are pagans. To a pagan, the reason you worship a God is because he is powerful. He or She might use that power for your advantage. And if they don’t use it for your advantage, at least if you offer the appropriate sacrifice, they might not use that power against you. If anyone has seen the movie “Cabin in the Woods” you know what I’m talking about. Baal and Thor and Zeus were popular not because they died. Gods don’t die. Or if they do it is because they are associated with the crops. They are popular because they are strong. And if you don’t think such gods are around today, ask yourself what we mean by “media” or “economy” and what we do. The high priests of the fed are raising interest rates, which will sacrifice some jobs, in the hope that Economy has a soft landing. That’s theology and a hidden deity.
So why does Jesus die. Why doesn’t he look like this guy? When the scoffers taunted, “If you are the son of God, come down from that cross and save yourself” why didn’t he?
For me the best answer is from that Hebrews 12:2 passage. It tells us something dear about God. “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb. 12:2 ESV).” Why did Jesus die? For the joy that was set before him. I don’t know about you but I usually don’t associate joy and suffering. Now I might endure a workout for the endorphin high that follows, for the success of the team I’m on, to prevent myself from being on my 600lb life. But we are talking about The Cross, the most shameful and torturous death ever invented. What was this joy that caused Jesus to die?
Part of what was set before him was “sitting at the right hand of the throne of God.” That is the judgement seat. That is the seat of power. Even old Odin hung himself on a tree to get the magic runes of power. Is the Jesus story just a repeat of Odin? No way. Because when Jesus comes into that power does he immediately wreck vengeance? No. The reason that Jesus desired that power was so that he could have grace on his. Jesus doesn’t use the power is a capricious way like the gods of old or say the economy. Jesus says “come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.” The God of the universe endured the cross, not to justify lightning bolts, but to lift up the sign of love in the wilderness.
“Despising the shame.” Hating everything that sin has done to his good creation, turning the garden into this wilderness, Jesus endured the cross to use the power to recreate.
The Joy of God was making a way for his people to be fully human again. The joy of God was through grace giving us the ability to follow him. To follow Jesus past death and out of the wilderness.
Why did Jesus die? For joy. For the joy of many brothers and sisters. For the joy of the new creation. The old gods, the new gods, every idol ever made? Heck with it, let it all go to hades. The God of Creation? Would not see the sinner die. And for Joy of creation created a way past death. For you.
I suppose I should have used a title like “The Labors of Christ”. The text is what happens immediately after Peter’s confession of Christ. You have a confrontation over what that word means. Peter thinks it means something very earthly. Jesus corrects him. And then he invites everyone to see his definition. What is Jesus’ definition of the Christ? Suffering, death and resurrection. How are we invited? To pick up our cross and follow. Why would we do this? It is the only way past death. It is the only way we keep our life, to lose it. This is how God works. This is the labor of the Christ seen through the things of God, not the things of man.
The creed is either true or false. Either God the Father is the creator of all things visible and invisible, or He isn’t. Either Jesus is the only-begotten Son of God crucified under Pontius Pilate yet sitting at the right hand of the Father waiting to come again in glory, or He isn’t. Either the Holy Spirit does work through means like one Baptism for the remission of sins, are it is just simple water.
The truth or falsehood of something has little direct effect on its popularity or unpopularity. In fact, some things that are true can be repugnant. Some things that are false can be very sweet. For example, it is true, even if unpopular, that the typical woman would not stand a chance in a fight against a typical man. Now if she had a gun that changes things, but that is not what Hollywood shows. Hollywood shows us a 100 lbs starlet throwing around a 250 lbs man without messing up her hair. Sorry, not happening. I don’t care how much Kung-Fu she knows. An example of a falsehood that can be sweet would be the idea that one can be a Christian without a church. There are lots of people who really like that idea. You might see them at Christmas, but they will tell those who ask they believe in Jesus. Which is how you get 20% of people in church on any given Sunday, but 70% proclaiming belief. The problem is that Jesus said he was going to build his church. Me and my personal Jesus are nice, but not sufficient, because we are being built together into one body. The Holy Spirit works through means, the first of which is “The Holy Christian Church, the communion of saints.”
When Jesus asks the disciples “who do people say that I am?” They answer him, “The Baptist, Isaiah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” Jeremiah is the real interesting one on that list. The Baptist is the most recent prophetic voice. Isaiah is the sweetest. Saying one of the other prophets is just saying “he’s speaking truths in a powerful way.” Calling Jesus Jeremiah is calling Jesus “the man of sorrows.” There is a long history of the iconography of this Son of Man. The two stained glass pictures nearby are a couple of examples. One has the crown of thorns. Many of the pictures will pick up either the reed that he was beaten with, or the crown, or some other element of the passion. Another popular picture is the Garden of Gethsemane. But, it doesn’t require any of those elements. Sometimes The Man of Sorrows is just portrayed with the melancholy downward look. Jesus is not fully stoic. His guts can be churned.
The Man of Sorrows sits in the unpopular truth square. We’d all like to be in the popular truth square. The devil is pretty effective at herding us into the popular falsehood one. I’m always surprised at the number of people who will stand in the unpopular falsehood square. If you doubt me in that why are there so many people who insist that “real communism has never been tried.” But we have an instinctive horror at unpopular truth. Jeremiah prophesied for 40 years that Jerusalem was going to fall. This was the truth, but nobody wanted to hear the message. We have little interest in being Jeremiah.
What God tells Jeremiah in our Old Testament Lesson (Jeremiah 15:15-21) is instructive. “If you utter what is precious, and not what is worthless, you shall be as my mouth. They shall turn to you, but you shall not turn to them. And I will make you to this people a fortified wall of bronze…for I am with you to save you and deliver you, declares the LORD.” The Truth is precious. Jesus calls himself the Way, The Truth and the Life. Nothing that is not true comes from the mouth of God. And I think we know that in the long run, truth outs. Of course we ourselves might not be there to see it. At Keynes quipped, “in the long run, we are all dead.” But standing in the truth is standing where God is, and where he will save, and from where he will deliver. The LORD has declared this.
The man of sorrows stood in that unpopular truthful corner. His own did not receive him. But the light still shines. Don’t mistake popularity or unpopularity for the truth. Tomorrow will rearrange all of our categories, but the truth stands like a fortified wall of bronze.
This sermon is an attempt to talk about what it means to convert – to come to an authentic faith in Jesus Christ. There are three parts to the sermon. The first part is simply a reflection that the way the church converted people for a very long time was baptism, Christendom and Christian families. For all the worries over cultural Christianity (paging Soren Kierkegaard), it was a lot better than the worries. But big chunks of Christendom let it go. And so the church is confronted with a different type of conversion problem. What is necessary to bring a pagan into the faith. The second part reflects on Jesus’ initial question and the disciples answers. “Who do people say that I am? John the Baptists, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.” This is Jesus as true man. The convert has to have a sympathy with Jesus as true man. But that isn’t the fullness if it is necessary. The third part reflects on Jesus’ refinement of his question. “Who do you say that I am?” and Peter’s answer “you are the Christ the son of the living God.” That is an encapsulation of the need to confess that Jesus true man is also true God. This also includes the wrinkle that we can’t force this recognition. “Blessed are you Simon bar-Jonah…”. Conversion is a work of preparation that the church needs to be about. But conversion is also solely the work of the Spirit.
The Symbol to the left is one that you used to find in both Roman Catholic and what were called the Magisterial Protestant churches, which is everybody but the Baptists. But depending upon your Pastor, you might not have been taught this in catechism. It is the symbol of the office of the keys. It is the fifth part of the Small Catechism. Sometimes called confession. And the one most often skipped. Why skipped? It makes an audacious claim. It claims that ministers can forgive sins. But probably even more scandalous is the claim that the office has the authority to withhold forgiveness. Hence the two crossed keys. One of them to loose and one of them to bind.
How are sins forgiven? Why do we believe any of them are? The first biblical story to deal with such forgiveness is the crippled man lowered through the roof by his friends to Jesus (Matthew 9:1ff/Mark 2:1ff). When Jesus first sees the man, he tells him “your sins are forgiven.” Nice, but probably something of a letdown from expectation of the miracle worker. But Jesus has his point. He strikes up the question with the Pharisees watching who were saying he was blaspheming. “Only God can forgive sins.” He tells the man to pick up his mat and walk as proof that the Son of Man also has authority to forgive sins. And this is roughly where the Baptists like to stop the story. Forgiveness is between me and my personal Jesus. And they are not completely wrong. Jesus sinners doth receive. There is nothing that you can’t take to Jesus. But the story doesn’t stop there.
In three places (Matthew 16:19, Matthew 18: 18 and John 20:22) Jesus gives this authority to different groups. If you are Roman Catholic you love our Gospel text for today, the first one, because in that passage the words are said to Peter. Ta-da, the first pope is the owner of the keys. Hence the papal seal to the right. If you are most flavors of protestant you love the Matthew 18 version a couple chapters later in which the same words are given in general to “brothers and sisters”. The Eastern Orthodox and our Catechism like the John passage because the recipients of the saying appear to be the apostles as a group. The interpretive leap in each is the preferred sources of forgiving sins: The pope and those in communion, members of the church, and those called and ordained.
I can’t remember if I’ve referenced it before but this is where I love Luther in a largely forgotten part of the confessions, the Smalcald Articles Part 3, article 4 on The Gospel. “God is superabundant in his grace: first , through the spoken word, by which the forgiveness of sins is preached in the whole world…second through Baptism. Third through the Sacrament of the Altar. Forth through the power of the keys. Also through the mutual consolation of the brethren.” Luther’s answer is “Why not all?”
But that doesn’t address why these keys have a tendency to disappear. Which goes back to the catechism questions. What is confession? Confession has two parts, first that we confess our sins and second that we receive absolution. It is never the use of the loosing key that causes trouble. I’ve never run across a Christian who complains about forgiving a repentant sinner. Yes, I know the parable of the prodigal and the older brother. Yes, I do recognize that people can have trouble with forgiveness. But at least in my experience that eventually thaws. What all kinds of people do have problems with is the necessity of confession for absolution. The binding key is not really a power of the office but a duty – to call sinners to repentance. And sinners who don’t think they have can often respond, “just who do you think you are?”
It is much easier to say your sins are forgiven. But if you are only using one key, you might be like the prophets declaring “peace, peace.” We will see if what they say happens. But the called office has both keys for reason. So that we might be confident in the grace of God through all of his means of grace.
Recording note: there are a couple of rough things. 1) We were still having some trouble with the sound system. We’ve got a temporary cheap mic while the good ones get fixed. The result is louder and just higher pitched fake sounding. 2) I was under the weather. You can probably hear the scratch in the voice. Sorry.
That said, I tried to say something meaningful with this sermon. I’m not sure I accomplished it. But it comes down to two things: 1) The church has a calling to be The Church to all peoples. That starts with Jesus being the messiah who comes from the Jews, not the Jewish messiah. While things like nation, people, tribe and language are important enough they have signifiers in the eschaton, they must be secondary to our unity in Christ. 2) Making these things clear – as Jesus does in this text – is often contrasting the good with the nice. Sometimes pointing out ugly things isn’t nice. Getting to reconciliation required a cross, not something nice, but it is on Good Friday.
Do you ever start something not really sure where it is going to go?
That usually isn’t me. I want to have “the plan”. I want to work “the plan”. “The plan” might even have multiple paths and checkpoints. Now I’ve never been crazy about this. I’ve always known full well in the wise words of Iron Mike Tyson that “everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” But when you get punched in the mouth is when you hope your plan is more like a Bach fugue. The melody is solid, you just have to shift to a different mouth.
Something like that might be the secret to a successful and happy existence on earth. Can you roll with the punches? Do you have enough grit such that you don’t have a glass jaw? Are you limber enough to play the rope-a-dope occasionally, or at least get your head out of the way of the haymaker? If you are good at it, or never come up against Mike Tyson at least, you might even think you can go the full 15 rounds and grab the belt. Define “the belt” however you want to.
You can file all of that under what Luther called civil righteousness. The world works a certain way. Some of those ways are not very Christian, using that word in the sense of nice or meeting a certain decorum. But that starts to point out the problems with Civil Righteousness. Everyone around you might think you are the best person on earth, a living saint. But, none of them get a vote that counts. And even if they absolve you of great crimes because you have donated enough money to get your name on a building, their absolution lasts until you leave the building. If you plan for civil righteousness you have received your reward. Enjoy the belt.
The other type of righteousness Luther calls the righteousness before God. And the brutal truth about this type is you can’t plan for it. In fact, the more you plan and scheme and try to earn it, the more it punches you in the mouth. Eventually, bloody and bruised and knocked out, you might conclude that it’s a funny game, the only way to win is not to play. Because you can’t win the righteousness of God. It only comes as a free gift. It only comes to broken sinners. It only comes to those who are flat on the mat admitting they are not going to beat the 10 count. That is the stink of desperation in the civil realm, but before God that is when He can start to do something. That is when we put down our plans and seek out God’s plans. When we are raised by the Spirit.
Part of the good news is that God has told us where this goes. This conforms us to his son, Jesus. He has also told us what to expect. The punches of the world will keep coming. But the plan of God is your eternal salvation. Your reward will be great in heaven.
Part of the good news also is that it is good, not nice. Nice is always defined socially. Nice is always changing. What is good? Conan the Barbarian’s answer isn’t it. What is good doesn’t really change. “Keep justice, do righteousness (Isa 56:1), and walk humbly with your God (Micah 6:8).” For soon my salvation will come, and my deliverance will be revealed. With our plans we never really know where they are going; with God’s plan we know.
There are two amazing things about Job. The first one is that it unapologetically holds that God owes us nothing. You can go so far as to hold with Job himself, “the LORD gives and the LORD takes, blessed be the name of the LORD.” If it comes from God, we owe him praise, whatever it is. The second amazing thing is that God allows himself to be called as a witness. He is not mute in his glory. This sermon is a pondering of a God who offers a justification for himself without ever abandoning the fact that He owes us nothing.
Just when you think the bible is giving you shallow travel directions it opens up a deep picture. The Gospel reading this week (Matthew 14:22-33) starts with those travel directions. The crowds have been fed, but as the disciples had remarked earlier, it is late in the day. Even later after 5000 have eaten. And Jesus knows what the crowds want to do – make him king. So, “Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go before him to the other side.” And, “after he dismissed the crowds, he went up on the mountain by himself.” How exactly does Jesus dismiss the crowd that wants to make him King? We don’t know. Why does he force the disciples into the boat? Maybe because they would have been just as much caught up in making him king, but we don’t know. But if we stop to ponder the scene, it is quite a view of the Christian life.
First, Jesus has sent us out at night onto the chaos of the waters. And somehow this is for our good. Even though we might end up “a long way from the land, beaten by the waves, and the wind was against them, in the fourth watch of the night.” That fourth watch is the metaphorical 3 AM. If you are a horror fan, you know everything bad happens at 3 AM. If you are a worrier or an insomniac, and you are up at 3 AM, it has not been a good day or night and neither will the fast approaching day be good. We know what this feels like. It is dark and we are exhausted and all the creepies come out. Why did you send me to this place alone?
But the second part is the recognition that we are never really alone. Jesus on the mountain top – with apparently Moses’ 120 year old eagle eyes – has them on his disciples. Mark’s gospel is explicit, “he saw they were making headway painfully (Mark 6:48).” The eyes of God are always upon those he loves. And his compassion – his guts being churned – are not just for the crowds. “In the fourth watch of the night he came to them walking on the sea.” The chaos and darkness of the sea have no power over this one. He walks on them. What are our reactions when God acts?
The first one, “they were terrified and said ‘it is a ghost!’” We expect the bad. We expect the creepies that have come out to finish us off. This is what the world does; it finishes off the weak and exhausted. Of course lurking in the background there is that saying it is a ghost is easier than saying “our deliverance has come.” Because if what comes to us at 3 AM is God, that comes with demands, with strings attached. Not the least being that he has witnessed our state. Jesus answers all this with the affirmative, “Take heart; It is I.” And yes, our translators wimp out. “Take Heart, I AM.” The Almighty has been watching and has come for you.
The second one, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Ok God, I’m not sure about this, so tell me to get out of this perfectly good boat you placed me in, and walk by myself over the chaos to you. Yeah, we don’t think too good at 3 AM. But Jesus goes with it, maybe for the same reason he sent them in the first place. Of course we were not meant to be on the waters outside of the boat. And that is not because we can’t. Peter does manage it for a couple of steps. But then we always “see the wind” and the fear returns.
So what does Jesus do? Grabs Peter, puts him back in the boat, and joins the rest, who all then worship him. We are meant to be in the boat (please see the church). We are meant to be with each other. And yes the boat is sent out on rough seas, but God sees it. And Christ comes and is with us and the winds cease. When we see God at 3 AM, we know. He has not sent us out alone, and He Is.
