Jesus Teaches Church Growth

The Fourth sunday after pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 4:26-34

26 He also said, “This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. 27 Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. 28 All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. 29 As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come.”

30 Again he said, “What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it? 31 It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth. 32 Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade.” 33 With many similar parables Jesus spoke the word to them, as much as they could understand. 34 He did not say anything to them without using a parable. But when he was alone with his own disciples, he explained everything. (NIV)

Do you want the church to grow?  That might sound innocent on the surface, and the assumed answer would be a no-brainer: “Yes, I want the church to grow.”  Are we talking about souls being saved as the Holy Spirit brings about repentance and renewal through the Word of God, resulting in conversion?  Are we talking about God’s law convicting sinners of their sin and God’s gospel comforting the sorrowful with their Savior?  Are we talking about growth the way the book of Acts does, in which the Lord added daily to their number?  Are we talking about infant Christians who started out on spiritual milk, but now after years in the Word have progressed to a diet of more spiritually solid food?  Then let it be a resounding “Yes – I want the church to grow.”

But the same question can also make us cringe.  To hear the question “Do you want the church to grow?” can be to immediately assume we’re talking strictly about numerical growth, implying that numbers are the bottom line in the church.  This aversion to the question stems from what is often negatively referred to as the “Church Growth” movement.  A man named Donald McGavran is the so-called “father” of this movement.  McGavran was a missionary in India who spent a considerable amount of time studying why some churches grew substantially, while others did not.  His idea was that if certain principals or methods that seemed effective in making one church grow could be identified and then reproduced in another church, then in theory, that church would grow as well.  This model, taken to the extreme, assumes that method trumps message.  If you only do this and this and this, your church will grow, regardless of the content of the message proclaimed.  This model utilizes the results of research and study to increase numbers.  And, this model can be absolutely destructive if it results in compromising the cross.  Do you want the church to grow?  Not at that cost – not at the cost of the cross.

So now that we’re confused, which is it?  Are we supposed to want the church to grow or not?  In his two rather brief parables this morning, Jesus teaches us all we need to know about church growth.  Let us now consider his first parable.

“He also said, ‘This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man scatters seed on the ground. Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain—first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head. As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come” (v.26-29).   Those who avoid speaking of “Church” and “growth” in the same breath should take note of the final result in this parable: growth happens.  When the seed is sown, growth is guaranteed.  Knowing that the seed in the parable represents the Word of God, this is no surprise – the Word works.  It is effective.  This truth is clear from Scripture. 

Yet we must put this into the proper perspective.  Saying that the Lord’s church is guaranteed to grow is not the same as saying that my church/congregation is guaranteed to grow.  We certainly pray that the Word may be preached faithfully in all of our congregations, yet we have no guarantee that each individual congregation will grow; no, the guarantee is that Christ’s kingdom will grow.  So St. WELS Lutheran Church is faithfully running on all cylinders, preaching and teaching the Word as it is called to do, and it’s membership continues to decline.  Does that make Jesus a liar?  Not at all – he’s simply allowing other areas of his kingdom to experience growth.  But rest assured, souls are being added.  His kingdom is growing, just as this parable indicates.  It’s just happening somewhere else. The seed is sown and souls are grown, as the Lord wills it.  “Whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how” (v.27).

“Though he does not know how” (v.27). See how Jesus clearly indicates that man deserves no credit for the growth – he doesn’t even know how it happens!  That’s all up to the Lord of the Church.  Why can two people both hear the exact same message of the gospel on more than one occasion, but only one of them comes to faith, or maybe both of them, or maybe neither of them?  “He does not know how.” 

Not only do we not know how it happens in some and not in others, but we also fail to know when a person might be brought to faith.  How does one explain why it’s taken one person years to come to faith, and another becomes a believer the very first time the gospel falls on his ears?  We don’t know.  It’s beyond us.  One Christian has been sharing the good news of Jesus with his neighbor for over a decade to no avail; another Christian invites his co-worker to church one time and on that one occasion he is brought to faith. The explanation?  We don’t know.  It’s beyond us.  The Word works.  The seed is sown and souls are grown, as the Lord wills it.

And this reality is really what is best for us, isn’t it?  Imagine how conceited Christ’s Church would become if it was able to determine how and when growth occurred.  Sinful man is already so naturally self-centered and full of himself, that one could hardly imagine the damage that he’d do to himself if he could take credit for the growth in the Lord’s church.  He’d become so puffed up and have such an enormous head on his shoulders that there’d be no room for Jesus in the picture.  Jesus would become an afterthought, while either the individual man or the congregation as a whole would take center stage.  Meanwhile, caught up in sinful pride, that man or that congregation suddenly loses sight of its need for Christ, and the gospel is lost.  Man has figured it out, and we know just how to get things done without God’s help.  Jesus no longer the Lord the Church; we are.  He’s no longer the Savior; we are. Low and behold, all because he mistakenly thinks he’s figured out the recipe or model for growth all on his own, simply by following this method and that practice, what is left?  A Christ-less church.  A church in which the cross has been emptied of its power.  Forgive us, Lord, for ever thinking the growth of your church is anything for which we could take credit.

But we can also fall into the ditch on the other side of the road.  Rather than thinking that we can somehow take credit for kingdom growth, we go too far and draw the conclusion that growth has no place in the Lord’s Church.  Growth becomes the enemy and any growing church surely must be compromising the pure truth of the gospel.  We deceive ourselves into thinking that healthy churches are those that are small, stagnant, or shrinking.  Since no growth is happening, it can only be because such churches must have the pure gospel.  How blind we are to draw such conclusions!  We’re so quick to point out that it’s not “all about the numbers” when we see other churches growing, but then we turn around and say that it’s “all about the numbers” when it comes to orthodoxy and pure doctrine.  See our double standard?  It’s not about the numbers when it comes to the big churches, but it is all about the numbers – the low numbers – when it comes to small churches and purity in doctrine, as if small size served as a barometer of orthodoxy.  Forgive us Lord, for ever having such low expectations for your church and the growth of your kingdom.

In fact, Jesus’ second parable underscores that the growth in his kingdom will be tremendous. “Again he said, ‘What shall we say the kingdom of God is like, or what parable shall we use to describe it?  It is like a mustard seed, which is the smallest of all seeds on earth.  Yet when planted, it grows and becomes the largest of all garden plants, with such big branches that the birds can perch in its shade’” (v.30-32).  According to Jesus, church growth exceeds expectations.  Consider the humblest beginnings of the church, a lowly child born in the undesirable conditions.  Then as an adult Jesus had his Twelve.  Then thousands were added at a time in the early church. Now try to imagine how many souls on earth and saints in heaven have been gathered from such small beginnings.  How many are numbered among the ranks of God’s elect, the holy hosts who have been made perfect by the blood of the Lamb?  Who can count?  Who can possibly comprehend the full number?  Just as no one would expect such a large plant to grow from so tiny a seed as the mustard seed, so also we fail to grasp the enormity of Christ’s church, and how it continues to grow and thrive in spite of its tiny beginnings. The seed is sown and souls are grown, as the Lord wills it.

There is plenty of room in the tree of the Lord’s church for more.  There is space on its benevolent branches.  Those very branches beckon more to come and find respite in the shade of forgiveness.  His church promises peace and security, safety and stability in the midst of life’s storms.  It’s so tiring to hear people speak of being spiritual, but not religious.  It gets old when a person claims to be a Christian, but wears it as a badge of pride that he doesn’t belong to a specific congregation, as if organized religion and Christianity are somehow at odds or can’t coincide with each other.  It’s sad, really, because they forfeit so many of the blessings that the Lord wants for them by being a part of a congregation in the Lord’s church.  Why not seek to be a part of the local congregation, and, as a member of the invisible church (i.e., Christ’s Kingdom), also be blessed through membership in a visible church (i.e., Shepherd of the Hills)?

The Lord alone will grow his church.  That much is clear.  He guarantees it and he promises that such growth will exceed expectations.  Yet each of Jesus’ parables this morning share something in common, something that is easily taken for granted: the seed must be sown.  The Word of God must spread in order for his church to grow.  Make no mistake: the Lord doesn’t need us for the growing, but he does choose to use us for the sowing.  Stop for just a moment and ask yourself when is the last time you talked about Jesus with someone who was not a fellow Christian?  When is the last time you did what these parables this morning take for granted and assume – that the seed is being sown?  Dear friends, if we’re not sowing, is it because we don’t trust that the gospel is powerful enough to win souls?  Or is it because like Jonah, we don’t want the Lord to extend his mercy to this wicked generation?  Or is it because the church has lost its love of the gospel and its love of sharing it?  May it never be so.  May the love of the Lord of the church, who bought and paid for each one of our souls with his own lifeblood, always increase our passion and zeal to sow the seed so that he can do his work.  Church growth really is that simple: The seed is sown and souls are grown, as the Lord wills it. May the Lord bless your sowing. Amen.

“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)

Are You Hiding From God?

The third sunday after pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Genesis 3:8-15

8 Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the Lord God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and they hid from the Lord God among the trees of the garden. 9 But the Lord God called to the man, “Where are you?” 10 He answered, “I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid.” 11 And he said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?” 12 The man said, “The woman you put here with me —she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.” 13 Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate.” 14 So the Lord God said to the serpent, “Because you have done this,

“Cursed are you above all livestock and all wild animals!
You will crawl on your belly and you will eat dust all the days of your life.
15 And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers;
he will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.” (NIV)

The dreaded sound of the garage door opening causes the children to stop dead in their tracks.  They instantly drop everything they’re doing and run for cover, scurrying to the safety of their supposedly secure hiding spots.  Attempting to make as little noise as possible, they quietly listen for the next frightening sounds of the door opening and the sure-to-follow footsteps of dad walking into the house.  They are terrified.  They know he knows.  Their disobedience was discovered and now it was time to face the music.  They didn’t know what their punishment would be, but they knew it was coming, and theyknew it would not be pleasant.  And so the unwanted words that came out of his mouth were horrifying: “Where are you?”

Another scenario: The eagerly anticipated sound of the garage door opening causes the children to stop and stare at each other, wide-eyed with delight.  They instantly drop everything they’re doing and start to run for the door, hoping to meet dad as he walks through the door into the house.  He had been away for a few days on a trip, and when dad came home from a trip, he didn’t come home empty-handed; he always brought them gifts.  They didn’t know what their gifts would be, but they knew he’d have them, and they couldn’t wait to see them.  And so they were ecstatic to hear the welcome words come out of his mouth even before they were able to meet him at the door: “Where are you?”

The exact same question can be a source of dread or delight.  Hearing it can make a person cower in fear or beam with excitement.  What determines a person’s response to that question is very often that person’s prior behavior.  If there has been no wrong-doing or misbehavior, then the question, “Where are you?” is nothing to fear; but if guilt is involved, then the question is one no one wants to hear.  

How did that question sound to Adam’s ear when he heard the Lord God call to him?  It filled him with fear, which mind you, was a newfound feeling for Adam.  He had never known fear before.  There was no reason to, because previously there had been nothing at all to fear in a perfect, unblemished world.  But that had forever changed as a result of the most devastating event the world will ever know, an event more devastating even than the world-wide Flood, the Holocaust, the dropping of atomic bombs, or any plague or natural disaster that has ever happened or ever will happen.  Our first parents were deceived at the Fall, and their disobedience sent the world spiraling into the chaos and disarray of sin.  One can understand why Adam must have been afraid to face God.

Notice how the effects of sin in the once perfect lives of Adam and Eve immediately became evident.  First they had recognized their nakedness, something that had not formerly been a problem, until their view of each other and all things became blurred by sin.  So they covered up as best they could thinking that might make things right again.  But their guilt remained, and it showed itself in how they responded to the sound of the Lord God walking in their midst.

One can reasonably conclude that God must have walked among them previously, since they recognized the distinct sound of him walking in the garden.  But now that sound made their heart rates sky rocket as it filled them with terrible anxiety.  Luther understood these verses to be describing Adam & Eve as being completely on edge, ready to jump out of their skin at the slightest sound, so that even the slightest rustle of a leaf would have been enough to shake Adam and Eve to the core, especially once they knew God was calling for them.

The effects of sin were crystal clear in Adam’s response to God’s question, “Where are you?” (v.9).  “[Adam] answered, ‘I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid” (v.10).  How pathetic sin had made Adam!  Had he not heard the Lord God in the garden before?  Why was there reason to fear him now, if never before?  Then, as if convincing himself that it was a perfectly legitimate reason to be hiding from God, Adam explains that his fear was a result of his nakedness.  Again, hadn’t Adam been naked previously without any shame or reason to hide?  What had changed?  Why suddenly was nakedness a reason to cause Adam to scurry for cover, the same way a host of helpless insects do when the rock under which they’re hiding is suddenly overturned?  Finally, how absurd of Adam to think he even could hide from God!  Was there any cover in all the created world that could somehow keep the created hidden from the Creator?

When pressed by God, Adam’s behavior becomes so shockingly familiar to us: sin does not like to stand alone, so it often seeks the company of another sin and another.  Rather than coming clean when given the chance, Adam resorts to the default tactic of a sinful and fallen world: blame.  What’s more, he spreads the blame out between not just one, but two others – both God and Eve. “The woman you put here with me – she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it” (v.12).  “It’s not my fault,” reasoned Adam, “it was the woman who gave me the fruit.  Oh, and in case you forgot, God, you’re the one who put her here with me in the first place, so if you hadn’t put her here, none of this would have happened.”  See what fools sin makes of us!  See how irrational it makes our reason!  For Adam to dare draw the conclusion that this whole thing was God’s fault is to show unmistakably how sin had turned the world on its head.

But we don’t need Adam’s example to show us that, do we?  When we as children of God find ourselves acting instead as children of the world, we cannot ignore the very same question of God as it is echoed in our conscience or as we hear God’s law: “Where are you?”  And the question terrifies us, for we know that it is our own sinful actions that have turned these three simple words into something to fear and dread.  Rather than using the opportunity to confess, to admit our sin openly and honestly before the God who sees all, we follow in the very same path paved for us by Adam.

First we try to hide.  We avoid God’s house.  We avoid God’s people. We avoid God’s Word. We think that by avoiding all of these things our sin has gone unnoticed or overlooked, simply because we’ve avoided any associations by which it might be pointed out!  Like Adam, how pathetic we are, thinking we can hide ourselves from the all-seeing, all-knowing God, without whom nothing would exist. Like the child first learning to play hide and seek, we stand out in the open, in plain sight for all to see, then we cover our eyes and think we’re suddenly hidden from God.  But the reality is that we’re exposed and naked in our sin before him, and try as we might, we cannot do a single thing to hide our sin and shame.

Then, when we realize we cannot hide it, we resort to the same default tactic Adam used: we blame.  “Lord, I wouldn’t drink so much all the time if my life weren’t so crummy and depressing.  If you’d just prove that you love me like you say you do and make things better for me, then I wouldn’t need to drink.”  “I had to lie because my friends said everyone would get in trouble if I didn’t.  I was just looking out for them; it’s not my fault.”  “Don’t blame me for robbing you with my lack of offerings, Lord; after all, I’ve got a family to take care of and bills to pay – if you want me to give more, then give me a better-paying job.”  “I wouldn’t give in to all the sexual temptation everywhere around me if my wife would do a better job of fulfilling those needs for me.”

God comes to us, asking, “Where are you?” and we try to hide and we try to blame.  But all God really wants is one thing: confession.  He wants us to admit that we have not lived as he made us to live and that our sin is no one’s fault but our own.  If we recognize that, then we can start to see the good behind God’s “Where are you?”  Think of how different those words sound as they come from the mouths of a search party looking for lost survivors.  That question then means life.  It means someone has arrived to save me.  It means hope and rescue!  Think of how different those words sound as they come from someone bearing a gift.  That question then means you’re about to receive something, to get something good.  Then the question fills us with sheer delight.  It promises goodness and blessing.

That’s ultimately why God approached Adam. God wanted Adam to see that his sin was his fault and it was his consequence and punishment to bear… and by doing so, God could in turn show Adam that it would be his promise, his grace, and his forgiveness that would ultimately come through Jesus.  The final result would be that Adam wouldn’t need to bear the consequence of his sin because Jesus would instead.  That was the promise God made to the serpent, to Satan. Even though he had brought God’s perfect creation into ruin, the Lord God would have the last laugh.  Speaking with unmistakable clarity about the promised Savior of the world, God said to Satan, “he will crush your head.” (v.15).     

Because Jesus did crush Satan’s head, God’s “Where are you?” does not come from a desire to punish and condemn, but to soothe and forgive; to comfort and console. He wants us to admit the seriousness of our sin, so that we might fully know the seriousness of his salvation.  It is for real, and it is ours.  May we come then, when he calls.  “Where are you?”  Here I am, Lord, in your house, to hear the absolution that my tired soul yearns for.  “Where are you?” Here I am, Lord, at the waters of my baptism, where my sinful flesh has been drowned.  “Where are you?” Here I am, Lord, penitently approaching your Supper to be reminded that Satan has indeed been crushed.  Dear Christian, because of Christ, there’s no reason to hide. Amen.

“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)

Served by the Sabbath

The second sunday after pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 2:23-38

²³ One Sabbath Jesus was going through the grainfields, and as his disciples walked along, they began to pick some heads of grain. ²⁴ The Pharisees said to him, “Look, why are they doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath?” ²⁵ He answered, “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need? ²⁶ In the days of Abiathar the high priest, he entered the house of God and ate the consecrated bread, which is lawful only for priests to eat. And he also gave some to his companions.”

²⁷ Then he said to them, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath. ²⁸ So the Son of Man is Lord even of the Sabbath.” (NIV)

Here we go again.  It may be a different account, but the story is more or less the same: the Pharisees witness Jesus or his disciples supposedly breaking the law and are all too willing to judge and condemn.  But before we lay into them yet again, before we condemn them, let’s not forget that although they had long since become woefully misguided in their emphasis and abuse of the law, initially at least, the Pharisees may have had better intentions.  The Pharisees were one of the sects that more or less sprang up after God’s people had been taken away into captivity and then a remnant of those exiles was eventually allowed to return back home.  However, upon returning home, there was a willingness on the part of a number of the Jews to adopt Greek customs.  This served as a great cause of concern to others.  The response to such perceived liberalism was to return with a stricter conformity to the law of Moses.  Obedience and conformity to the law appealed to many who saw it as a safeguard against outward influence, which could potentially undermine the Jewish faith if not kept in check.  The Pharisees were a part of that group that saw a rigid adherence to the law as the only feasible solution to retaining their special status of being God’s chosen people.  While we can appreciate their zeal, we cannot overlook the reality that it was terribly misguided.

So is ours when we follow suit and run to the law, perceiving it to serve as some sort of safeguard against losing our Lutheran heritage, or even the Christian faith altogether.  And there’s no denying that we do it, is there?  The law is simple.  It is cut and dry.  Do this.  Don’t do that.  If everyone just followed it accordingly, things would go so much smoother.  What we have a tendency to overlook, however, is how frequently we pick and choose the law to suit our own purposes.  We prefer to highlight certain laws that others need to do a better job of keeping, while turning a blind eye to the ones that consistently trip us up.  I am happy to point out that he drinks too much, but prefer not to dwell on how inclined I am to gossip about it all the while.  I do not shy away from making mention of the 80% in the congregation who do “very little around here” compared to the 20% who do all the work, but somehow I fail to notice that in all my busyness I’m gradually becoming more and more removed from opportunities to simply sit at the feet of Jesus in worship or Bible class.  I can lament how little so many others give in their offerings while ignoring that my marriage and family are falling apart all around me because I am dropping the ball as the spiritual head of the house and am a far cry from the Christ-like husband I’m called to be.  See how we identify with the Pharisees in our zeal to run to the law and use it as a club to beat fellow Christians into sanctified living, while failing to apply the same standards to ourselves? 

The Pharisees were attempting to straighten out the disciples in the same way when they encountered Jesus and his disciples amidst the grainfields.  At the same time, they genuinely believed that by their understanding and application of Sabbath laws they would finally catch Jesus in the wrong and discredit his ministry.  So, as the disciples were making their way through some grainfields, picking grain along the way, the Pharisees were sure to point out their transgression to Jesus: “Look, why are they doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath?” (v.24).  Now the Pharisees’ zeal for the law meant that they didn’t just have sets of laws, but sets and subsets of laws.  So the number of infractions the disciples were guilty of as far as the Pharisees were concerned were numerous.  It was one thing to pick the grain on the Sabbath, but then to sort through the heads of grain, rub them in their hands and eat them on top of it was a double no-no.  They couldn’t believe Jesus would let this go on, for even if he wasn’t doing it, he was accountable for failing to rebuke his followers for such a thing.

Jesus certainly didn’t give them the response they had expected.  Instead, he took a page out of history and pointed to an example in the life of David: “Have you never read what David did when he and his companions were hungry and in need? In the days of Abiathar the high priest, he entered the house of God and ate the consecrated bread, which is lawful only for priests to eat. And he also gave some to his companions” (v.25,26).  David had been on the run from Saul, who was hunting him down.  While running from Saul, David came to the high priest, who proceeded to do the unthinkable: he gave David and his men some of the showbread to eat.  Twelve loaves of bread, one for each tribe, were baked and consecrated as an offering to the LORD each Sabbath.  After that, the bread could be eaten only by the priests.  However, as Jesus pointed out, in this particular case, David and Abiathar went against what God had commanded and David and his men ate bread that was reserved only for priests.  Jesus’ purpose in raising the issue with the Pharisees was not only to catch their attention by using such a high-profile and well-respected example such as David, but also to lead them to consider why God had allowed such a clear violation of his law to go unpunished.

Had they gotten Jesus’ point, they would have recognized their error in calling out the supposed unlawful behavior of Jesus’ disciples.  They would have seen that there is in fact something that trumps a mere rigid obedience to God’s law: the greater law of love.  The Pharisees consistently missed that essential point of God’s law.  God’s laws were intended to serve as a guideline for love in action, but the Pharisees routinely sacrificed the law of love for rigid, uncompromising obedience to the law, obedience according to their own standards of the law, which were so often tipped in their favor. 

The disciples were eating the grain in the fields.  Love in action on the part of the Pharisees may have led them to conclude that the disciples were hungry and then offered them something to eat.  Instead, they become fixated on an awareness that it was the Sabbath and such behavior was unlawful.  It wasn’t love that drove them to approach Jesus and his disciples, but spiritual arrogance and a desire to sit in judgment of others.  The whole perception the Pharisees had toward God’s law was that it was a means by which they could show themselves worthy and deserving of God’s favor.  Loving others was not a part of the plan in their eyes.  If forced to make a choice between showing love to others or pompously showcasing their obedience to the law, the Pharisees would choose obedience to the law every time.

Jesus gave them a wake-up call.  He told them, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (v.27).  Contrary to the idea that God had somehow established the Sabbath for the purpose of man being able to showcase himself before God, Jesus was telling them that the Sabbath was to be a blessing to them.  Think of it this way.  A husband had been talking for the better part of a year about how badly he wanted a new car, even though his wife didn’t feel they needed one.  Finally the husband gets a new car… as a birthday gift for his wife.  Is he fooling anyone?  Of course not; it was clear that he was the one who wanted the car all along. 

So the Pharisees assumed that God’s reason for setting up the Sabbath was really self-serving, so that he could give them another avenue by which they could put on display their pristine obedience to him, as if he needed their praise and attention on this set-apart day.  But Jesus was making it clear that the Sabbath wasn’t around to serve God, but men.  It existed not to be served by man, but to serve man.  The Sabbath was not to be the master, but the servant.

It should have been clear from day one when God established it at creation.  Already at creation, the seventh day was to a be a pattern, not for slavish obedience, but for spiritual rest.  Chapter two of Genesis concludes the week of creation this way: “By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done” (Gen. 2:2,3).  The almighty Creator had no need of rest, but was highlighting an ongoing blessing he desired for the crown of his creation: the blessing of rest.

That God who by his booming voice brought all things into existence is at the same time “the Son of Man… Lord even of the Sabbath” (v.28).  As such, he determines the purpose behind the Sabbath, and it’s not that he might tie us down to slavish obedience, but that he might give to us the restful peace he won for us.  The Sabbath was never a gift given by our Savior to serve himself.  It was – it is – intended for our blessing.  He knew how frequently the Pharisee in each of us – the one who overlooks the plank in his own eye for the specks in others’ – would be in need of the assurance of his forgiveness.  So he invites us to regularly receive his Sabbath, his rest, which he alone can offer. 

Here then is the essence of the Sabbath, which the Pharisees so blindly overlooked – love, by which Jesus forgives, restores, and upholds.  It’s the rest he offers through Word and sacrament – the means of grace.  It’s his gift to us, not for himself, but for us.  It’s why we gather here on the first day of each week, not because we must, not because entrance into heaven demands it, not because the Lord is won over by our coming into his presence, but because through the Sabbath he seeks to serve us with his grace and forgiveness, to serve us with his rest. Amen.

“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)

He Gave to Save

The Holy trinity

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

John 3:1-17

1 Now there was a Pharisee, a man named Nicodemus who was a member of the Jewish ruling council. 2 He came to Jesus at night and said, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the signs you are doing if God were not with him.” 3 Jesus replied, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.”

4 “How can someone be born when they are old?” Nicodemus asked. “Surely they cannot enter a second time into their mother’s womb to be born!” 5 Jesus answered, “Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. 6 Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. 7 You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

9 “How can this be?” Nicodemus asked. 10 “You are Israel’s teacher,” said Jesus, “and do you not understand these things? 11 Very truly I tell you, we speak of what we know, and we testify to what we have seen, but still you people do not accept our testimony. 12 I have spoken to you of earthly things and you do not believe; how then will you believe if I speak of heavenly things? 13 No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came from heaven —the Son of Man. 14 Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 that everyone who believes may have eternal life in him.”

16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (NIV)

You don’t attend an art gallery displaying the art of world-famous artists in order to consider how you might improve upon such works of art with perhaps a different shade here or another stroke there, or visit the Eiffel Tower intent on giving thought to how one of the most recognized landmarks in the entire world could have been made better.  You don’t observe a brilliantly cut gem expecting that there would be something you could do to make it appear even more spectacular, or finish up a five-course meal prepared by Wolfgang Puck with a few suggestions as to how he might possibly enhance the flavor of several of the courses.

So the preacher feels about expounding on a text that includes the words of John 3:16.  How does one possibly say anything that could in any way improve on the beautiful simplicity of the grace of salvation as it is laid out for us in this most prominent passage of Scripture?  It hardly deserves to be spoiled by the baggage of extra commentary, but rather deserves to be left alone to breathe on its own, like a fine glass of wine.  We would hardly do it injustice if we were simply to spend the next fifteen minutes contemplating and pondering this verse alone on our hearts and minds. 

So let us not seek to improve upon it or somehow force it to fit into some prefabricated form or mold in order to try to make it say what we would like it to.  Let us instead attempt to present it in such a way as to draw even more attention to it, to see John 3:16 through the eyes of Nicodemus, that we might have a greater and deeper appreciation of it than we had before.  May we this morning merely provide a worthy frame for this work of art, an appropriate setting for this gem, that it might shine in our hearts with all its natural splendor.

Jesus’ words and works were not going unnoticed.  Though we sometimes accuse those who opposed Jesus of being stubborn and close-minded to his message, this morning’s verses serve to encourage us in showing that Jesus’ message, even among those who aggressively spoke out and acted against Jesus, did not always fall on deaf ears. It would in fact be quite difficult to imagine anyone being more diametrically opposed to Christ and his gospel of grace than a representative of the Pharisees, the standard-bearers of the law – especially one who was a member of the Sanhedrin, the Jewish ruling council.

Yet here was Nicodemus, approaching Jesus after the sun had set for the day and given way to the night.  Perhaps he came to Jesus at night to avoid being seen by his fellow Pharisees; perhaps it was because he knew at night he’d be able to speak at length with Jesus, who at that time wouldn’t be busy tending to the needs of so many others who longed for his attention during daytime.  Whatever his reason, we can commend Nicodemus, for he sought to give Jesus the benefit of the doubt and afforded him the opportunity to explain his teachings in greater depth, something the associates of Nicodemus were unwilling to do.  He didn’t just tow the company line or take the official position of the Pharisees.  No, Nicodemus did what so many today are unwilling to do – he did the work of searching for answers and forming his own conclusion about Jesus and his teachings instead of lazily taking someone else’s thoughts or opinions as his own. He certainly could have just reposted someone else’s tweet or status update on Facebook as his own, but instead he desired to use the mind God gave him to explore and think critically about Jesus’ teachings.  In so doing, he opened himself up to the power of the Holy Spirit to work on his heart.

We don’t know if we have the entire conversation between Nicodemus and Jesus or just a portion of it, but what we have is more than sufficient.  “[Nicodemus] came to Jesus at night and said, ‘Rabbi, we know you are a teacher who has come from God. For no one could perform the miraculous signs you are doing if God were not with him’” (v.2).  With his statement, Nicodemus was really posing a question, as if to say, “Your miracles and your authoritative teaching – they are clear indicators that you are from God, yet how can your message and your way be so different from ours, when we are supposed to be the religious authorities?”  Nicodemus wasn’t skeptically questioning Jesus the way his colleagues on the council had, but rather innocently asking for some clarification and help in understanding the significant differences between the teachings of Jesus and the ones in which he himself had been trained.  Nicodemus had been taught that he had the proper understanding of how to please God – that he knew and kept the necessary requirements, had the proper ancestral ties, and had even been born into the right family.  Now Jesus sought to unravel that tangled mess of misunderstanding on which Nicodemus had been staking his eternal welfare.

First things first, Nicodemus had to be reborn.  Jesus told him, “I tell you the truth, no one can see the kingdom of God unless he is born again” (v.3).  Ancestry and family name don’t seem to play as big a role in our culture as they did – and still do – to other cultures, namely those of Jewish descent.  Born Jewish, Nicodemus had been raised with the understanding that his heritage was his source of pride, and that it meant everything.  But Jesus was now saying that it meant nothing.  For Jesus to tell Nicodemus that it was necessary to be born again was to shatter any assurance he had based on genealogy or family name.  The family into which he was born physically was of no importance at all; all that mattered was being born again. 

Unable to wrap his mind around the concept of being born again, Jesus clarified for Nicodemus that he was not making a physical, but a spiritual reference.  The kingdom of God was open only to those born spiritually, and that spiritual birth could only come about through the Holy Spirit, for “Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit” (v.6), as Jesus stated.  Being born again wasn’t about labor and delivery, but water and the Word; it was about baptism.   Through baptism the Holy Spirit brings about a birth in a way that no earthly mother ever could, for he brings about spiritual birth.  Finally, even if Nicodemus didn’t understand the whole process, it didn’t matter, for he couldn’t deny the clear evidence of it (“The wind blows wherever it pleases…” [v.8]).  In fact, it was the evidence he had witnessed – the effects of Jesus’ words and works on the lives of others – which brought Nicodemus to Jesus this evening in the first place.  He didn’t need to understand or explain how Jesus was able to do what he had done, but only to believe it based on the evidence of what he had seen.  Jesus would again bring up the need for believing shortly in his discourse with Nicodemus.

But before he did, Nicodemus needed to be reminded why Jesus was the authority in these matters.  After all, if Nicodemus, supposedly a reputed teacher among the Israelites, wasn’t able to teach or understand such things, how was Jesus qualified to do so?  From where did his credibility come?  Jesus explained, “No one has ever gone into heaven except the one who came for heaven—the Son of Man” (v.13).  Jesus was more than qualified to speak of things of a heavenly nature because he had come from heaven!  Was there any Pharisee who could claim as much?  Was there anyone at all who could?  No.  Jesus had come from the Father, from heaven, and so Jesus knew full well what it took for anyone else to get there.  This he would now make clear to Nicodemus.

He began by referencing what would have been for Nicodemus a familiar event in Israel’s history.  “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life” (v.14,15).  Jesus was saying, “Nicodemus, you recall how the multitudes were delivered from deadly snakebites because they looked up to a bronze snake lifted up on a pole in the desert, right?  Tell me, was there any physical explanation for the medical benefit offered by that bronze snake?  Absolutely not!  The people were delivered by looking at the snake only because they believed the Lord when he promised they’d be delivered.  See – they believed, and they were delivered.  They did nothing, nor could they do anything to rescue themselves from death.  They believed and they were saved.”

Jesus had already alluded to the need to leave reason at the door when trying to understand the Spirit’s work; all that was necessary was to believe in his work.  Remember why there was a need for Jesus to firmly establish this concept for Nicodemus, this notion of simple trust or belief, or what we often refer to as “faith alone.”  It was because belief was a foreign concept to the Jewish way of thinking, and even more so to the Pharisees.  Belief had no place in a work-based religion.  Faith was a foreign concept, overshadowed by action and effort.  So Jesus was establishing for Nicodemus that salvation was based on faith.  Having pointed to the bronze snake in the desert to introduce this truth, Jesus now took it up a notch.

“Now, Nicodemus, let me explain to you that same concept on the grandest scale of all – the scale of salvation.  Are you ready?”  “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (v.16,17).  With that, Nicodemus’s whole world was turned upside down by grace.  His whole way of life was a lie.  The burden of guilt that tirelessly drove him to slavish obedience to the law was uncalled for; because of Christ, he wasn’t enslaved by the law, but freed from it.  Eternal life was to be his not by doing, but by believing, and only by believing.  Jesus had not come in the flesh to judge and condemn, as the Pharisees were so inclined to do, but to save the world, to save all people, to save Nicodemus.

Jesus’ words to Nicodemus, dear friends, are recorded in the Scriptures so that you also might hear him speak them to you, for you need to hear them every bit as much as Nicodemus.  God knows your sin, even when you pretend you can hide it or that it somehow doesn’t exist, and that is completely terrifying, isn’t it?  But God’s grace is this: Your Father didn’t send his Son to be your Savior to come into the world to accuse, but to acquit.  Believe it and live.  Believe it and be free.  Believe it and be assured of your eternal life. Amen.

“For the freer confidence is from one’s own works, and the more exclusively it is directed toward Christ alone, so much better is the Christian it makes.” (Luther)