John 11:17-27, 38-45 Sermon

Twenty-First Sunday After Pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

“I Am… the Resurrection and the Life”

John 11:17-27, 38-45

17 On his arrival, Jesus found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. 18 Now Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, 19 and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother. 20 When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home. 21 “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died. 22 But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” 23 Jesus said to her, “Your brother will rise again.” 24 Martha answered, “I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day.” 25 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; 26 and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” 27 “Yes, Lord,” she replied, “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, who is to come into the world.”

38 Jesus, once more deeply moved, came to the tomb. It was a cave with a stone laid across the entrance. 39 “Take away the stone,” he said. “But, Lord,” said Martha, the sister of the dead man, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.” 40 Then Jesus said, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?” 41 So they took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” 44 The dead man came out, his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen, and a cloth around his face. Jesus said to them, “Take off the grave clothes and let him go.” 45 Therefore many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. (NIV)

                 

Lucy hadn’t kept track of how many hours she had spent on her work of art.  After all, she was only 9, and 9 year-olds don’t usually think about such things.  She was going to be entering her sculpture in an art fair at school.  While she was involved in a number of extracurricular activities, her parents had never seen her so committed to one thing with such intensity.  It was clear she had some talent, and that she was also very meticulous, often spending significant chunks of time on the tiniest portions of her sculpture, only to return later and refashion them yet again.  When Lucy had finished, her parents and friends saw it and told her what a great job she did.  She was very proud of it.  She would spend time just sitting and staring at it.  Her little masterpiece was her pride and joy. 

But suddenly it was unrecognizable.  It had smashed into a million pieces – big chunks, small chunks, and a powdery dust were all that remained.  An accident had caused it to slide off the shelf and plummet to the floor.  Needless to say, Lucy was devastated.  Her heart sank lower than ever before.  She felt sad and sick.  She was crushed to see with her own eyes how utterly obliterated her work was.  It was now a far cry from her original creation, and all that was left were broken remnants.  She was angry and frustrated that this had happened to her special masterpiece.

Jesus knew the feeling.  When John described the scene of Lazarus’ death, he described Jesus as being “deeply moved.”  The word translated this way has also taken the meaning “furious” and “angry” elsewhere.  Why would that describe Jesus on this occasion?  We could understand that he would be sad or in mourning, but why angry?  Because as Jesus considered the death of Lazarus and the devastating blow death deals to those still living, he was reminded that the world had become in many ways unrecognizable from the world he had created.  His work of art had been smashed into a million pieces with the fall into sin, and death and its effects served as a clear reminder of that stomach-churning reality.  The world was broken, his masterpiece was destroyed, and precious little illustrated that to the degree that death did.

Lazarus was not, after all, some unknown stranger; he was a dear friend.  Jesus had made it regular practice to visit with the family, having been welcomed in the home of Mary and Martha in the past.  Now Jesus was dealing with not only the loss of a friend, but also the pain of seeing how death affected those who were close to him.  It was an undeniable reminder of how his creation had been ruined, and the profound impact death had on the crown of his creation, mankind. 

But Jesus is not one to stand around and sulk, lamenting while suffering goes on all around him.  He is always one to take action, and we see him do just that in the case of Lazarus.  Yes, the Fall brought with it death and tears of sadness, but Jesus longed to bring life and tears of joy.  For that is what he was proclaiming when he said, “I am the resurrection and the life” (v.25).  Jesus had in mind to put an end to the darkness of death and all the misery that surrounded it.  He would do this not only for Lazarus and his family and friends, but for all people, including you and me.  May we find supreme comfort this morning in the “I am” statement of our Savior: “I am the resurrection and the life.”

While those words of Jesus stand out this morning, they aren’t the only ones that catch our attention. Martha’s words to Jesus in the face of the death of her brother also stand out, don’t they?  Not only do her words stand as a nice example of her confession of faith in her Savior God, but they also seem to reflect a change from the last time she was in the spotlight, which was not for a good reason.  On that occasion, her sister sat at the Savior’s feet and listened, while she worked feverishly to prepare things for Jesus.  Jesus gently called on her to reconsider her priorities and focus on what was most important: hearing his words (cf. Lk. 10:38ff.).  Based on her dialogue with Jesus, her confession of faith seems to indicate that she had rearranged her priorities.

“When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home. ‘Lord,’ Martha said to Jesus, ‘if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask’” (v.20-22).  See what confidence Martha expressed!  She was connecting the dots.  She was acknowledging that Jesus had a special relationship with God the Father, and because of it was able to do miraculous things.  But Jesus wished to advance her faith by leading her to see that he was more than just the middle man; he was the Son of Man.  Jesus was God in the flesh.  Martha was focused on all that God could do sometime down the road.  Jesus wanted her to focus on the things that God could do right now.

“Jesus said to her, ‘Your brother will rise again.’ Martha answered, ‘I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day’” (v.23,24).  She wasn’t quite getting it just yet.  While she expressed a wonderful confidence in the resurrection at some point in the future, Jesus wanted her to come to a clearer understanding that he himself was able to help her in her time of need at that very moment.  For that reason, Jesus didn’t respond to Mary by saying, “I have connections with the one who makes resurrection and life possible.”  He didn’t say, “I know the one who can do something about your brother Lazarus, and I’m happy to call in a favor if you’d like.”  No, Jesus plainly stated, “I am the resurrection and the life” (v.25).  He revealed that the “I am”-God who Martha had come to know and the one speaking with her were the same divine being.  Jesus had the power to raise from the dead and give life, because he was true God.

As true God, Jesus was able to address the emotional turmoil that Martha, Mary, and others were dealing with right then, not just at some point in the future.  “I am the resurrection and the life,” Jesus said, not “I could be” or “I will be.”  Jesus was conveying that as God, he was able to make a difference right then and there.  There was no getting put on hold until the next representative was available.  There was no grabbing a number and waiting in line.  Jesus had the ability to utilize his unlimited power to turn an occasion marred by death into an unforgettable display of divine grace at that very moment.

It’s easy for us to forget that Jesus has that power at his disposal in our lives right now.  As a culture that is so centered on what’s happening right now or in the next five minutes, we struggle to give much thought to anything down the road or consider how things today will affect things in the future.  The problem with that mindset, with the “here and now” heart, is that God and his work in our lives gets pushed out of the present and we can have a tendency to limit his role in our lives to the stuff that happens later: death, heaven, eternity, and all of that.  We mistakenly put limitations on his role in our lives, figuring that the stuff we’re dealing with here and now is on us to handle, while Jesus doesn’t really step into the picture until later, with end of life matters.  But that was Jesus’ point to Martha – he not only had the desire, but the power to heal her hurt right then and there.  The addiction, the pet sin, the guilt, the doubt, the worry – all those things that weigh on us – Jesus is able to do something about all of that right now.  Where did we ever get this ridiculous notion that Jesus only steps in once we show we can handle our problems?  That bit about God helping those who help themselves is complete bologna – who do you know that is able to help himself?  No one!  Our sin cements us to failure and frustration and despair and disappointment.  We have no way whatsoever of changing that harsh reality on our own.  Jesus must step in and save.  He must intervene and deliver.  And he stands ready to do just that, right now.

You need proof?  Follow Jesus to the tomb of his friend Lazarus.  Listen along with the others as he commands “Lazarus, come out!” (v.43).  Witness the power of Jesus’ words as they deal death a mighty blow and beckon a dead body to life.  In that instant – not at some point in the future, or down the road, or, even as Martha had come to accept, on the last day when judgment occurs – but in that instant, Jesus proved his power over death.  He backed up his claim, “I am the resurrection and the life” (v.25).

And what he demonstrated then and there for Martha and others, he made clear to all people three days after his own death.  All sin had been paid for – yes, even our sinful presumption that Jesus can’t or won’t do much for us right now, but only at some point in the future.  Jesus’ death paid the price for when we short change him and think we must “go it alone.”  The proof that payment for sin had been received in full came when Jesus showed in unmistakable fashion that he truly was the resurrection.  He trampled over death as he exited the tomb, and he promises the same resurrection to all who believe in him.

Lest we permit that promise of future resurrection to allow us to fall right back into thinking Jesus only plays a role in our futures and not now, we note the final word of Jesus’ statement: “I am the resurrection and the life” (v.25).  See, along with the promise of resurrection and eternity with him, Jesus also promises life – eternal life – yes, and for that we rejoice and give thanks daily; but his promise also applies to this life here on earth.  Because of our surety of life eternal, life temporal has every reason to be filled to the brim with joy and rejoicing.

Do you believe that you will rise because he rose?  Then let that peace guard your heart.  Let your life reflect that joy.  Let your mouth speak and sing that praise.  What place do bitterness or complaining or nitpicking or nagging have in the life of the Christian?  Let those die along with death itself, which has been destroyed by the one who assures each of us this morning, “I am the resurrection and the life” (v.25).  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)

John 10:11-18 Sermon

Twentieth Sunday After Pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

“I Am… the Good Shepherd”

John 10:11-18

11 “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. 12 The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. 13 The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep. 14 “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me— 15 just as the Father knows me and I know the Father—and I lay down my life for the sheep. 16 I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd. 17 The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life—only to take it up again. 18 No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again. This command I received from my Father.” (NIV)

            

Why not the “Great” Shepherd?  Or the “Best” Shepherd?  Why does Jesus, in this morning’s “I am” statement, settle for the claim of being the “Good” Shepherd? After all, “good” is a very relative term, isn’t it? It can even take on different meanings depending on how one says it.   The reviewer who describes a meal he had at a local restaurant as “eh, it was good” is not exactly giving the place a glowing review.  While it certainly is not a negative review, nevertheless, crowds aren’t going to be lining up outside anytime soon because the chef really rolls out some “good” food.  Yet when you ask a friend how the movie he just saw was and he says “It was really good,” that may very well be enough of an endorsement for you to go see it.  Sometimes “good” can simply mean something wasn’t the worst; other times it can mean well above average.

So why doesn’t Jesus just use a word that has a clearer meaning?  It isn’t that the word is unclear, but rather that it can take on different meanings, just as our “good” does.  In addition to the basic “good,” the word that Jesus used can also be used to describe something as “precious” or “beautiful.”  It also can mean “fitting” in certain contexts.  With that meaning in mind, Jesus was pointing out that as far as the work of a shepherd was concerned, spiritually speaking, he was the model shepherd.  He was the best example of a shepherd that one could ever hope to find.  He was the ideal.

Another way to help define something is to point out what it isn’t.  Just as Jesus last week contrasted the gate with those he referred to as “thieves and robbers,” so also this week he refers to those who stand in stark contrast to the Good Shepherd.  He said, “The hired hand is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep. So when he sees the wolf coming, he abandons the sheep and runs away. Then the wolf attacks the flock and scatters it. The man runs away because he is a hired hand and cares nothing for the sheep” (v.12,13).  He who is not the Good Shepherd is one who approaches his task of shepherding as a means to an end.  It is simply one of many ways to earn a living, to make a buck.  He is in it for the paycheck, and little else.  That reality comes to light the moment trouble arises and the hired hand is nowhere to be found.  They aren’t his sheep, and a paycheck isn’t worth risking his own life over, so he’s more concerned about saving his own skin than anything else.

But oh, how the Good Shepherd differs!  “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.”  A preacher once told this story about an event that occurred in his home town:

Two brothers were playing on the sandbanks by the river. One ran after another up a large mound of sand. Unfortunately, the mound was not solid, and their weight caused them to sink in quickly. When the boys did not return home for dinner, the family and neighbors organized a search. They found the younger brother unconscious, with his head and shoulders sticking out above the sand. When they cleared the sand to his waist, he awakened. The searchers asked, "Where is your brother?" The child replied, "I’m standing on his shoulders." With the sacrifice of his own life, the older brother lifted the younger to safety. The tangible and sacrificial love of the older brother literally served as a foundation for the younger brother’s life (Bryan Chapell).

What a touching, heart-wrenching story of sacrifice!  Yet, without taking away anything from the one who gave up his life for his brother, we must acknowledge a significant difference between the laying down of one’s life for a brother and the Good Shepherd laying down his life for his sheep: the sheep didn’t deserve to receive such a sacrifice.  A brother giving his life for his own brother – this we can understand; but for the Good Shepherd to give his life for worthless, wayward, wandering sheep – this makes no sense!

Isn’t that a big part of the reason that the depiction of Jesus as our Good Shepherd has always been so comforting?  It’s one thing to lay one’s life down for someone else, especially if it is someone close to you or someone you appreciate.  However, it is quite another thing to do it for an enemy or for others who don’t deserve it or even want it.  By nature we resent Jesus.  Our sin is a continual slap in the face to him.  If left on our own, we would wander well beyond the gate and easily be overcome the by evil one, the devilish wolf who seeks to devour all.  As sheep we are stubborn.  We are selfish.  We are stupid.  We are hapless, helpless, and hopeless.  And to that, Jesus responds, “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (v.11).  The marvel is not that anyone would give up his life for another deserving person – this we have seen and will continue to see in life; rather, the real marvel is that the Good Shepherd would do it for sinful sheep like you and me! 

More remarkable yet, the Good Shepherd was not forced or coerced to do such a thing.  He said, “I lay down my life – only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord” (v.17b,18).  While we rightly point out Jesus’ obedience to his Father, and his willingness to carry out his will to the full extent, we remember, as Jesus here reminds us, that carrying out his Father’s will in perfect obedience is not draw the conclusion that Jesus had no say in the matter.  In fact, he showed his free will in the matter when he prayed in Gethsemane that the cup of suffering be taken away from him if at all possible.  However, Jesus’ primary concern was doing the will of his Father – freely.  Jesus’ greatest pleasure is doing and delighting in the will of his heavenly Father.  We can only begin to imagine the depth and harmony that exists in the relationship between the Father and the Son, as Jesus explained, “just as the Father knows me and I know the Father” (v.15).

And yet, while we can’t fully grasp the full richness of that relationship between the Son and the Father, it’s interesting that the comparison Jesus was making in bringing up that relationship was the relationship he as the Good Shepherd has with you and me, his sheep.  “I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me – just as the Father knows me and I know the Father – and I lay down my life for the sheep” (v.14,15).  As if to underscore the foundation of the unique and special relationship we enjoy with our Good Shepherd, Jesus repeated several times that he laid down his life for the sheep.  We wouldn’t know Jesus apart from that sacrifice.  We would still be lost and wandering.  But the reason we know him, and not just like we know our good friends or even our family members, is because he did for us.  He gave up his very life for you and me.  I don’t believe it is possible to find a stronger basis for a relationship than laying down one’s life for another.

But our Good Shepherd wasn’t finished!  He didn’t just valiantly die a martyr’s death and leave a legacy in death that would have ever surpassed anything he accomplished in life – no that, would not be enough for the Good Shepherd.  He would do more – that was only the beginning.  So not only did he lay down his life for us, but he took it up again; he removed the permanence from death and transformed it from an eternal punishment to a peaceful sleep for the sheep of his flock.  “The reason my Father loves me is that I lay down my life – only to take it up again. I have authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again” (v.17. 18b).  Just as he wasn’t forced against his will to die, he also wasn’t forced to live again.  He rose again to continue fostering a protective relationship with his sheep for all eternity.

How does he do that?  His sheep listen to his voice.  He said, I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd” (v.16).  Where do we hear his voice but through his Word?  Don’t be confused by the countless other voices in the world who claim to speak for the Good Shepherd; hear him speak to you personally through his Word.  Let him reassure you as he feeds you in the green pasture of his Sacred Meal, which he will do for us again this morning.  Hear his invitation to come and drink from the refreshingly cool stream of water that is your baptism.  

And what the Good Shepherd wants for you, he wants for others as well, those who have not yet been gathered before the our Good Shepherd returns.  They are what we once were, “sheep that are not of this sheep pen,” for God’s purpose was first to go to the sheep pen of Israel, and then to the Gentile sheep outside of that pen.  By his grace he found you and me.  By his grace he has kept you and me in his sheep pen of the saved.  By his grace he invites us to call out to others with his voice through his Word, that they might be brought into the sheep pen, just as you and I were.  Our Good Shepherd called to us.  Now he calls to them.  Help others hear his voice in any way possible.  Help them come to know their Good Shepherd.

This morning Jesus assures us, “I am the good shepherd.”  He isn’t just OK.  He isn’t just better than average.  He is good, he is the ideal, the model shepherd, the only shepherd, who both laid down his life and took it up again to live eternally with you and me, his grateful, thankful, forgiven sheep.  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)

John 10:1-10 Sermon

Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS) 

“I Am… the Gate”

John 10:1-10

“Very truly I tell you Pharisees, anyone who does not enter the sheep pen by the gate, but climbs in by some other way, is a thief and a robber. 2 The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. 3 The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.4 When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. 5 But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.”6 Jesus used this figure of speech, but the Pharisees did not understand what he was telling them. 7 Therefore Jesus said again, “Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. 8 All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. 9 I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. 10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (NIV)

His plane had just landed, and he had a very tight window of time to catch his connecting flight.  He jumped out of his seat to grab his carryon from the overhead bin.  He hurriedly tried to squeeze by others to get off the plane as quickly as possible, apologizing to others that if he didn’t hurry, he’d miss his connecting flight.  The other passengers parted like the waters of the Red Sea and graciously allowed him to get to the front of the plane.  The door popped open and he took off through the jet way, spilling into the airport, where the mad dash was on to catch his flight.  He was the guy who scrambles by and everyone turning their heads to watch him knows he’s trying to catch his connecting flight.  As he neared his gate, he glanced down at his watch and felt a sense of relief, realizing he had just made it in time.

Or, he would have made it in time, except for one thing: arriving at what he thought was the gate of his connecting flight, he looked up at the board and saw that he was at the wrong gate.  Sure enough, just as soon as he realized it, he heard over the loudspeaker that there was a gate change, and that his flight was departing from another gate; in fact, a gate on the other end of the airport from where he had just come.  At that moment the reality had settled in that he wouldn’t make his connecting flight.  It wasn’t because he hadn’t tried.  It wasn’t because he didn’t rush as quickly as he could have to make it to his gate.  Rather, it was because he was at the wrong gate, and finally, the thing that matters most in catching a connecting flight is making sure you’re at the right gate.

And it just so happens that having the right gate is the thing that matters most for each of us for eternity as well.  The gate on which we’re focusing this morning though is much more than a matter of airplanes and airports, though I suppose this gate does determine one’s final destination – his “arrival” flight, so to speak.  There is only one gate that is the difference maker for eternity, and Jesus is it. “Very truly I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who have come before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep have not listened to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (v.7-10).

When Jesus spoke these words, to say that he was ruffling Pharisaical feathers would be an understatement.  Jesus had just applied a concoction of his own spit-soaked eye salve – a.k.a. mud – to the eyes of a man blind from birth, and told him to go wash off in the Pool of Siloam.  When he did, miraculously, the man was able to see for the first time in his life.  The wonder of this jaw-dropping miracle, however, was quickly overshadowed by the relentless determination of the Pharisees to downplay its legitimacy and discredit Jesus for performing it.  Seeking to get to the bottom of things, the Pharisees repeatedly interrogated witnesses and even the man himself, yet no matter how many times they heard testimony of the miraculous healing, they either refused to believe it happened, or attempted to make a mockery of the miracle by disqualifying it because it was performed on the Sabbath. 

Having received word that the man’s tender soul was being harassed by the skeptical Pharisees, Jesus sought him out and wanted to reassure him.  What followed was a simple, yet beautiful dialogue between the Savior and the man: “Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and when he found him, he said, ‘ Do you believe in the Son of Man?’ ‘Who is he, sir’ the man asked. ‘Tell me so that I may believe in him.’ Jesus said, ‘You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.’ Then the man said, ‘Lord, I believe,’ and he worshipped him.” (John 9:35-39).  What a beautiful confession of faith!  By God’s grace, the man born blind was led to see – not just physically, but spiritually – that Jesus was the Savior.

But see what a different reaction the Pharisees had to all of this, as the exchange continued: “Jesus said, ‘For judgment I have come into this world, so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.’ Some of the Pharisees who were with him heard him say this and asked, ‘What? Are we blind too?’ Jesus said, ‘If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.’” (John 9:40-41).  Hardened refusal to let the words and actions of Jesus serve as words and actions of the Messiah, the promised Savior, the Son of God, the Pharisees instead defiantly stood their ground.  They wouldn’t budge in their conviction that their own self-righteousness would sufficiently serve them before God, and that they had no need of a Sabbath-breaking Savior.

It is that conversation which led into the words of our text this morning, words which Jesus spoke to clear up for the Pharisees and others that salvation is found only in him.  We know that Jesus’ purpose was not, like the Pharisees’, merely a pathetic attempt at spiritual posturing, as if to go head-to-head with the religious leaders and prove himself.  No, Jesus’ purpose was, and always is, simply this: he wants all people to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth (1 Timothy 2:4); and yes, that included the Pharisees.  With that in mind, he attempted to help the Pharisees and everyone else see what the blind man had come to see – not just a miracle worker, but a Savior from sin. 

Jesus’ first attempt at illustrating his saving identity incorporated the comparison between the picture of a shepherd and a stranger.  This comparison didn’t click with his hearers at first, as John tells us: “Jesus used this figure of speech, but they did not understand what he was telling them” (V.6).  We’ll spend more time on this picture of Jesus next Sunday.  This morning, however, we direct our attention to the other image Jesus painted, that of a gate.  And in order to help distinguish himself from all other religious leaders, listen first to how Jesus described everyone else – all those who are not the gate.  “All who ever came before me were thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them.  The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…” (v.8, 10a).  Jesus doesn’t mince words.  He doesn’t say that other religious leaders are merely misguided or misunderstood; he doesn’t sympathize with them, reasoning that they mean well.  When the eternity of souls hangs in the balance, Jesus does not care about being politically correct and tolerant of those who hold different views on religion; he called them “thieves” and “robbers,” who came “to steal and kill and destroy.”  How could Jesus state it any more clearly?  Those who deny Jesus as the Savior and guide others to do the same are hell-bent on the destruction of souls.  They are not to be taken lightly!

Jesus though, had a different purpose in mind than those thieves and robbers.  Why is he so concerned that others recognize him as the only gate?  Because he longs for others to be fully aware of the gracious blessings that await all who enter through his gate.  “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved. They will come in and go out, and find pasture. I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (v.9, 10b).

“Whoever enters through me will be saved.” There you had it, plain and simple: Jesus was telling the Pharisees flat-out that salvation is something which one comes by only through the gate, only through him.  He wasn’t bragging, but inviting, as if to say to the Pharisees yet one more time, “your religious rites and regulations and requirements amount to nothing as far as salvation is concerned; that only comes through me.” 

Though we know it, we need that reassurance over and over, too, don’t we?  The world openly and without apology paints a target on the back of those who would have a connection to Jesus, but Jesus’ response is “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.”  Others say faith in Jesus is for the simple and unscientific; Jesus says, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.”  Even our own doubts lead us to question if maybe there’s something left undone, some requirement unmet, to which Jesus says, “I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.”

And to those who enter through that gate, Jesus promises, “They will come in and go out, and find pasture” (v.9b).  Jesus, the gate, provides protection and security, so that we can be at peace.  He does not bind us in with rigid requirements, but grants us the freedom to be served and to serve him in so many ways.  In him we are taken care of and fed.  We are guarded and guided.  There is nothing we need to fear.  The pasture of his Word and Sacraments sustain us.

And Jesus promises you something that many in the world promise, but which only Jesus can deliver.   He says, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full” (v.10b).  What is “life to the full?”  Contrary to the lies society sells, life to the full is not instant gratification.  It isn’t getting what you want or having it your way.  It isn’t a lack of relationship problems, money problems, health problems, etc. – it isn’t any of those things.

Life to the full starts with Jesus’ promise that my eternity is safe because it is in his hands, and has already been bought and paid for with his blood.  Then, with the certainty of Jesus, the gate, guarding my heart, my eyes see my life in this world in a different light.  Fear and trepidation have been cast aside; they don’t need to follow me or haunt me, for all is well with the gate.  Guilt and regret don’t hang around my neck like a noose, for all is well with the gate.  Failure and folly don’t disqualify me, for all is well with the gate.  Loving and serving are not obligations, but opportunities, for all is well with the gate.  I have life to the full, for I have Jesus, the gate.  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)