"Absurdities" of Christ

The sixth sunday after pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 5:21-24a, 35-43

21 When Jesus had again crossed over by boat to the other side of the lake, a large crowd gathered around him while he was by the lake. 22 Then one of the synagogue leaders, named Jairus, came, and when he saw Jesus, he fell at his feet. 23 He pleaded earnestly with him, “My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live.” 24 So Jesus went with him.

35 While Jesus was still speaking, some people came from the house of Jairus, the synagogue leader. “Your daughter is dead,” they said. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” 36 Overhearing what they said, Jesus told him, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.”

37 He did not let anyone follow him except Peter, James and John the brother of James. 38 When they came to the home of the synagogue leader, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. 39 He went in and said to them, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” 40 But they laughed at him.

After he put them all out, he took the child’s father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha koum!” (which means “Little girl, I say to you, get up!”). 42 Immediately the girl stood up and began to walk around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished. 43 He gave strict orders not to let anyone know about this, and told them to give her something to eat. (NIV)

You don’t have to know much about the background of the synagogue ruler named Jairus to recognize that he loved his only daughter with a father’s heart.  It is quite clear that he treasured his sweet little girl and dreaded the possibility of losing her.  Death was near for her.  We don’t know how long it had been looming.  We don’t know if there had been other trips to numerous physicians or if the family was up to its ears in doctor bills.  We just know that a father loved his daughter, and he shuttered to think about life without his little girl, so he did what we wish all would do when faced with hardship… 

… he went to Jesus.  Really, it was an uncommon course of action for a man of his position, as most associated with the synagogue – especially on overseer – did not look favorably on Jesus.  Nevertheless, Mark tells us, “Seeing Jesus, he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, ‘My little daughter is dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and live” (v.22,23).  Word traveled quickly when Jesus was near, and his ability to make well was no secret.  Jairus, knowing this, humbly dropped before Jesus and begged him to heal his little girl, knowing that even just his touch would be sufficient to make her well.  This was not a man who had run out of options or was resorting to his last hope with nowhere else to turn; rather, this was a man who fully trusted that Jesus had the ability to completely restore his daughter’s health and extend his time on earth with her father.  Jesus’ reaction to his request filled him with hope, for Jesus didn’t refuse him.  Mark tells us, “Jesus went with him (v.24).

But then things went from bad to worse.  Jairus’ worst fear was realized when some from his house came to meet him prior to his return “Your daughter is dead” they said. “Why bother the teacher anymore?” (v.35).  The implication was that it was too late.  They hadn’t made it in time.  Healing the sick is one thing, but now Jairus’ daughter was beyond help.  Now she was dead, and there was quite obviously nothing that could be done.

How does Jesus respond?  Was Jairus’ daughter now a lost cause?  Were they too late?  Does Jesus suddenly now have more pressing matters to deal with at the moment?  Or, does he wave his hand or put on an elaborate, attention-getting display for all to see, or prescribe for the synagogue ruler some ritual or set of steps on which to follow through to make her well?  How does Jesus respond?

“Ignoring what they said, Jesus told the synagogue ruler, ‘Don’t be afraid; just believe’” (v.36).  Really?  That’s it?  “Just believe?”  Believe what?  That they weren’t really too late?  That Jesus could still help her?  No disrespect to Jesus, but didn’t Jairus already believe?  Isn’t that why he came to Jesus in the first place?  He did believe, but now it appeared as if that belief was wasted and they were too late.  One could almost imagine the messengers’ skeptical reactions in their minds: “Just believe?  Umm, didn’t he just hear us say that she was dead?”

As if that wasn’t bad enough, then they arrive at the home, amidst all the weeping and wailing, which was the custom for days in that culture, and Jesus gives the skeptics more ammunition.  “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep” (v.39).  Some must have been insulted, being quite confident in themselves that they knew a dead person when they saw one.  One hardly confuses sleep with death.  The reaction of those gathered there was disbelief at Jesus’ words, shown clearly by the fact that “they laughed at him” (v.40) after he had made what was considered his second absurd statement that she was merely sleeping.

If that was the reaction of those present then, we should not be surprised to find the same reaction today, to an even greater degree.  “Just believe.” “The child is not dead but asleep.”  How would the world today welcome such an outlook?  As utter absurdity. 

Today’s experts – and it’s so obvious that our world is full of them if you just ask them – would be quick to point out that there’s no evidence (the Bible doesn’t count!) that the simple act of believing has ever changed a single thing over the course of history.  Empirical evidence reigns supreme.  Proven facts are what matter.  Hard data paves the path to discovery and solving the world’s problems.  These things are what matter – not pie-in-the-sky or head-in-the-sand “believing.”  Of course the irony is that when science and every other avenue fail, then and only then is it acceptable to fall back on the old “just believe.”  But for the most part, believing is something reserved for those simple-minded, uninformed and uneducated Christians.  Believing is a waste of time.

Sad part is, that viewpoint has had a tendency to influence and undermine our own, leading us to sinfully second-guess the real and tangible benefits of believing or trusting in God and his promises.  After all, I believed God could make my sick friend or relative better.  He didn’t.  I believed God was clearly directing me to make the right decisions and follow the right paths in life, but having to pick up all the pieces of one train wreck after another would sure seem to indicate it was a mistake to believe that he was actually directing anything.  I believed God would provide me with a job.  He hasn’t.  I believed God had led me to “Mr. Right.”  He couldn’t have been more wrong.  Lately it would appear that God’s track record of validating my belief in him is not so great. “Just believe?”  Seems kind of absurd after all.

Of course, if “just believe” is absurd, then we don’t really need to bother spending all that much time on Jesus’ other absurdity, “the child is not dead, but asleep.”  A world that already scoffs at belief will do the same at silly talk of “sleep” instead of death.  No breathing, no pulse, no measurable brain activity – these are not signs of sleep, but unmistakable indicators of death.  To confuse the two, sleep and death, well, that’s just absurd.

But the instant that little girl shot up out of bed, absurdity simply went out the window.  Others had been so sure that she was dead.  They had been convinced.  Then, when she was up walking around, when she was eating real food, then they must have second-guessed themselves.  They must have wondered if they had been mistaken after all, and maybe the little girl hadn’t really been dead.  Maybe she was just asleep.  Or maybe Jesus’ second statement wasn’t so absurd.  For that matter, maybe his first statement wasn’t all that absurd: “just believe.”  See how the miraculous changes things!  See how what once was impossible has suddenly become quite plausible?  See how seeds of belief were being sown so that the unbeliever started to wonder if Jesus’ words are true, if “just believe” and “not dead but asleep” actually had some teeth to them?

We all start that way, as doubters and skeptics, that is.  But then the seeds of belief are planted.  The Holy Spirit does what only the Holy Spirit can do, and we’re led to start wondering, “what if?”  What if the vast array that is the universe truly was created in 6 twenty-four hour days?  What if a scheming serpent spoke and deceived the first man and the first woman, and the unfathomable, the incomprehensible, inexcusable travesties that occur on a daily basis in our world really are the result of sin?  What if the virgin Mary was actually a virgin?  What if the Christmas story isn’t actually a story at all, but factual history?  What if the miracles of Jesus are all legit – every last one of them, including this one?  What if all if it turned out to be, well, not so absurd after all?

Then, dear friend, it is but a small step to believe the biggest wonder of all – what if I really am forgiven because the blood of Jesus truly covers my every last sin, including, but by no means limited to, the sins of questioning whether my own belief in him was a waste of time!?  Suddenly there is a shift.  It is no more, “what if,” but “most certainly!”  “It is finished!” means my work of redemption has been carried out.  Jesus’ Resurrection means there is life for me after death.  God’s blessed declaration of “not guilty” means I am not guilty.  His promise of reconciliation means our perfect relationship with God has been restored in Christ.  His own hand has signed my name in his Book of Life, in the permanent ink of Christ’s blood.  All of it is no longer, “what if,” but “most certainly,” just as the skeptics at the house of Jairus could not deny that their eyes were seeing his daughter alive and well.

We too are alive and well, spiritually speaking, because of Jesus Christ.  It is not absurd at all.  He made every promise and he was the one to carry out every promise.  Just believe… that a splash of water accompanied by the almighty Word of God should save a person from damnation… that a sip of wine and a meager wafer should be bound in, with, and under Christ’s blood and his body for forgiveness – these things are not absurd; they are grace.  And it is grace that has opened our eyes of faith to see it and believe.

Jesus Christ came into the picture and made a statement like, “The child is not dead but asleep” not at all absurd.  He came into our lives and salvaged us from sin, extending to us the invitation: just believe.  At first it was too easy, too simple, too far-fetched.  But then the Holy Spirit worked in me and now it is the greatest comfort to me in all the world.  I am his and he is mine, for no other reason than that his grace has led me to believe it.  It is enough, dear Christian, to just believe. 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)

"I'm Spiritual, I'm Just Not Religious." Spare Me.

It has the same effect on me as the word "Irregardless" (an illogical word) or the phrase "I could care less" (so you're saying you do care?).

You've likely heard it yourself.  Or, maybe you've even said it yourself: "I'm spiritual, I'm just not religious."

Spare me.

Frankly, the statement makes me just a little bit sick to my stomach when I hear it. 

You see, I think it's a cop out.  The impression I get when I hear the statement is that the one speaking it lacks backbone.  He wants to appease both the unbeliever and the believer at the same time.  To the unbeliever he says, "Sure, I'm a Christian, but it's not like I'm one of those wacky fundies who quotes Scripture all the time and goes to church every Sunday."  Then he speaks out of the other side of his mouth to the Christian, saying, "Society sure is going down the tubes because of all those godless heathens.  It sure is great to be a Christian."  The problem is, we can't have it both ways. 

Jesus said, "All men will hate you because of me" (Mark 13:13).  So why bother trying to compromise?  Pick a side and stick with it.  You're either committed to a great deal of cross-bearing as a Christian, or you're a lukewarm wanna-be who's looking at getting spit out.

"I'm spiritual, I'm just not religious."  It's kind of like me saying, "I love dessert.  I just don't ever eat it." I do love dessert.  Few things on this earth make me as happy as peanut butter and chocolate.  But one would have to question how much I really love dessert if I never ate it (barring legitimate reasons, of course... assuming a legitimate reason for not enjoying dessert actually exists).

According to the Bible, Christians rejoice at the prospect of going to church, which I suspect is at least in part what people mean to avoid when they claim they're not religious.  A Christian who doesn't relish the opportunity to be in church regularly to hear of the good news of free salvation in Christ Jesus???  "I love dessert.  I just don't ever eat it." 

Now maybe a person claims he's not religious because he's turned off by "organized religion" or claims "the church is full of hypocrites" (to the latter excuse, I had a professor whose response was, "There's always room for one more.").  I will grant you that Christian congregations have messed up - inexcusably at times - and also that they will continue to.  I will also grant that there are indeed hypocrites within the church (just as there are outside of it), but are these reasons enough to stop eating dessert?  I can assure you that if I ever meet a dessert I don't like, I won't swear off desserts altogether.  Why would the Christian swear off the rich blessings of gathering together with other Christians at a local congregation just because he had a bad experience at one?  Wouldn't it make more sense to search for another congregation that adheres faithfully to the Bible, and keep indulging in the rich fare of the Jesus and his forgiveness, rather than assuming that all Christian congregations are suddenly a waste of time?

It certainly would seem to be worth the effort.  That is, if you really like dessert.

Christ Came to Calm

The Fifth sunday after pentecost

Shepherd of the Hills Ev. Lutheran Church (WELS)

Mark 4:35-41

35 That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.” 36 Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. 37 A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped. 38 Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” 39 He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. 40 He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” 41 They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!” (NIV)

It’s thought of as being one of the most deadly professions out there.  Watch an episode of the Discovery Channel’s Deadliest Catch, and you’ll know why.  Captain and crew alike risk their lives aboard fishing boats in Alaska’s Bering Sea in order to bring home a prized catch of king and snow crab.  Together with the potentially fatal hazards of just being on deck and operating the necessary equipment, the brutal weather and the treacherous conditions of the sea pose daily threats to life and limb.  The number of fatalities that occur in this line of work make it as risky as any other.  It makes for some fascinating viewing, but I don’t know that I have much of a desire to ever be aboard any of those vessels.

It appears that a number of disciples felt the same way on the Sea of Galilee on the occasion detailed in this morning’s Gospel.  They undoubtedly would have preferred to have been watching safely from shore, rather than scrambling for their lives on a boat quickly caught up in an unrelenting squall.  So furious was this sudden storm, not uncommon at all on the Sea of Galilee, that the boat was filling up fast with water “so that it was nearly swamped” (v.37).  To downplay the gravity of the situation is to ignore that there were seasoned veterans aboard the boat, men whose entire livelihoods were spent at sea as fishermen.  They’d been in sticky situations before.  They’d weathered storms.  But this was bad, so bad that they were at their wits’ end, terrified and running out of options quickly.  They were desperate for help, so desperate in fact that the fishermen turned to the carpenter for help.

And where was the carpenter to be found?  “Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion” (v.38).  Now skeptics of the Bible draw one of two conclusions at this point: 1) if Jesus was able to sleep through it, then the storm could not have been all that serious, or 2) Jesus wasn’t actually asleep.  In response to that, one has to wonder if such skeptics have ever put in a hard day of work.  If so, they’d know from experience that the human body, when exhausted, has little trouble getting the sleep it needs.  It’s not hard to imagine how weary and worn out Jesus must have been after giving of himself teaching the crowds, which certainly has at least a little to do with why they got into the boat in the first place – to take a break.  Finally, if Jesus had in mind all along to use this event as an opportunity to build up his disciples, and his sleeping was a necessary part of it, then we have no problem taking Mark at face value and believing that Jesus was asleep.  Jesus was, after all, a human being, and human beings get tired.

But Jesus was more than just a man, as he was about to show, which made their question of him all the more insulting.  They didn’t just ask the Son of Man, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” (v.38), they also asked the Son of God.  The implication of that question was either that Jesus didn’t care, or that he wasn’t able to do anything about it.  What Jesus did next clearly proved the disciples wrong on both counts – he did care, and he was able to do something about it.

With a stern rebuke, Jesus brought the chaos swirling around them to an abrupt end.  He calmed the storm. The violent winds and the raging waves were stilled by his spoken words.  How many times have we witnessed footage of unrelenting natural disasters?  How many times in all that footage have you seen one person be able to do a single thing to somehow restrain nature?  Never.  The best we can do is be able to predict or warn when some natural disaster is about to happen so that we can evacuate or properly prepare.  With all our science and technology and brilliance, we cannot divert or put a stop to so much as a harmless light rain shower, even for a moment.  But Jesus demonstrated his divine power over nature by merely mouthing the words “Quiet! Be still.”

Jesus’ human nature was evident – he was tired, and so he slept in the boat.  His divine nature was evident as well - he tamed the untamable wind and waves.  When we see Jesus exert his divine power in performing miracles, it has nothing to do with him wanting to woo the crowds or wow his disciples; rather, his divine power attests to something much more significant: he has the divine power necessary to save.  Why is that divine power needed to save?  Jesus reminded us in his rebuke, not of the wind and waves, but in his rebuke of the disciples.

After he brought about a complete calm in the midst of chaos by his rebuke of the wind and waves, Jesus then rebuked his disciples: “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (v.40).  Think about how tied together those two questions are.  Isn’t the one going to naturally follow the other?  The second question essentially serves as the answer to the first – you’re so afraid because you have no faith.  Isn’t that what is really at the core of being afraid?  Isn’t it a lack of faith?

Now take that a step further.  We rejoice that salvation is a gift received freely by faith.  Yet even our faith, which does nothing but receive that gift, would be completely inadequate if it were not for the divine power necessary to sustain that faith.  Faith alone saves, but even faith itself, if left up to us would falter and fizzle.  We need that divine Savior.  We need the one who controlled the storm on Galilee to control the chaos that would otherwise reign in our hearts and choke out any faith.  Man is inadequate on his own.  We need the divine.  We need Jesus.

We’re guilty of that same lack of faith, that same fear that caused the disciples to be seen by Jesus as cowards.  We are adrift at sea with our problems and troubles, and because they’re beyond our control, like the disciples, we ask, “Don’t you care, God?  Can’t you do something about my lack of income?  Can’t you fix my relationship?  Can’t you this?  Can’t you that?  Don’t you care???”

Eventually, it usually becomes clear, though it can take a while because we’re slow learners.  At some point we finally recognize that sometimes God allows the turbulence in life to happen so that we regain the proper perspective on how much God cares, ironically enough.  God does care, but he cares about something with the potential to do much more damage than mere worldly troubles or inconveniences; he cares about our sin.  He cares about our sin because that is the only thing that stands to separate us from him for eternity.  

“Don’t you care?”  What an insult to God!  How dare we ask such a question of the Creator. No one cares more.  The evidence overwhelmingly supports it – had he not cared, Jesus wouldn’t have given up holy heaven for the enticement-filled earth.  Had he not cared, the Father wouldn’t have allowed his own Son to be tempted and tormented by the devil in the desert.  Had he not cared, the Father wouldn’t have exposed his Son to the ridicule and the constant challenges from his enemies.  Had he not cared, his only Son wouldn’t have been beaten and bruised and bloodied.  Had he not cared, he would not have given up his own Son to die in our place.  Yes, God cares.  More than anyone, God cares.

He cares, and that is why Jesus came.  He came to calm, not to calm nature when it becomes unruly, but to calm hearts troubled by guilt and sin.  No one on earth knows your sin better than you do, but there is one in heaven who does.  And he knows your sin because he willingly faced it head on in order to forgive it.  Your fickle faith and your unfounded fears and even your fist-shaking at God – all of it has been forgiven.  Christ came to calm.

Now we might ask why, if Christ came to calm, were the disciples so terrified after this miracle?  Mark records, “They were terrified and asked each other, ‘Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!’” (v.41).  It doesn’t seem like they were very calm at all!  Indeed, having just witnessed what they did, how can there be any reaction but great fear?  How on earth could they hope to stand in the presence of one so powerful to be able to do what Jesus just did?  And, on top of it, just moments ago they had accused him with their “Don’t you care?”  How they must have regretted being so brazen with one who held so much power in even just the words from his mouth!

But how it changes things to recognize that such almighty power is not aimed at or directed against us, but is directed against the devil and against all who oppose the One who himself is the Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifier.  That is the very power that was unleashed on the devil to crush him and overturn his wicked work.  It was that power that took the sting out of death.  It is that power by which we are kept safe and secure in the one true faith.

That power exerted by Jesus on that lake on that day is the power that goes with you when you leave here.  It is power to protect you from physical harm. It is power to heal you from injury and sickness.  It is power to rescue you from physical death. And we should not look on such power lightly, for it is at our disposal each and every time we approach God in prayer.

That power is also the power to provide us with peace.  The devil tries to stir up the waters all around us, but in Christ our ship sets sail on the smooth, glassy, mirror-like waters that he has laid out for us, where nothing but tranquility and serenity abound.  So it is in our hearts.  So it is because our ship is called grace, and where there is grace, there is no fear or worry, for Christ came to calm.  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)

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)