Sermons

March 4, 2015 Text: Isaiah 44:1-5

Dear Friends in Christ,
Shelly Jackson is not only an author, she’s a walking piece of literature. She has a tattoo on her right wrist that reads, “S-k-i-n” yes, Skin. It is actually the title of Jackson’s latest project, which she calls “A Mortal Work of Art.” The plan is that her 2095-word story would be published exclusively in tattoos, one word at a time, on the skin of volunteers. Once a volunteer is accepted into the project, they are known only by the word they bear on their skin.
At last count, Shelly Jackson was still looking for people to bear her final three hundred words. Just think, we could contact her after church, offer our human hides, and be a part of a counter-cultural narrative.
Isaiah also wants people to be marked with one word and be part of a counter-cultural narrative. He writes in our text, “another will write on his hand, ‘The Lord’s.’” This Lenten truth tonight, we are . . .
“MARKED”
One of the ancient Near East’s most dominant narratives in the sixth century BC was the Babylonian creation epic called the Enuma Elish. The Enuma Elish narrates Marduk’s defeat over Tiamat. He cut her in two and built the universe out of her remains. Read during the annual Akitu festival the pinnacle was the acclimation – in the Akkadian language – “Marduka ma surru,” which translated means, “Marduk is King.”
Connected to the pomp and pageantry of Babylonian religion was the empire’s program of changing people’s names. Just ask Hannaniah, Mishael, and Azariah. You may know their VeggieTale names, “Shach, Rach, and Benny.” In Daniel 1:7 the chief of the eunuchs changes their names to Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. The goal? Mark the Judeans with a new name that will entice them into worshipping Marduk.
But Judean exiles in Babylon didn’t line up. They weren’t interested in being marked by their Maker. Because, you see, there was another text in town.
The dominant story of our day is peddled by the young and beautiful who guarantee we can be young and beautiful, just like them, if we buy things we don’t need, with money we don’t have, to impress people we don’t even like.
Their story is hammered into our heads at an alarming rate. From the moment you open the morning paper, or flip on your phone or computer until we fall asleep to another rerun of Everybody Loves Raymond, we will encounter more than 2,000 advertising images. And they portray the same thing over and over – “You can buy lasting happiness!”
In league with this American consumerism is the enemy’s program of changing our names. His goal? Mark us with a new name that will entice us into seeking fulfillment in things. Deemed beloved through water and the Word, Satan renames us cheap, dirty, and worthless. Deemed washed and cleaned in the name of Jesus, he whispers to us, “Guilty as charged.”
Put together, the dominant narrative and the dominant devil create in us a slowness to be part of the counter-text. We convince ourselves, “I can sell my soul to the American dream and claim its promises of prosperity while, at the same time, professing the name of Jesus.”
We’ve all tried the dominant narrative. We are all worn out from believing the dominant American story. Lord, we need an alternative narrative.
Enter Isaiah 40-55, where the prophet takes aim at the empire. Babylon is a drop in the bucket. Babylonian leaders are nothing. Babylonian gods are an empty wind. Marduk is a fantasy, a fake, a fraud, and a huge phony.
The alternative narrative in Isaiah 40-55 is just getting revved up. “Comfort, comfort My people, says your God” (40:1). “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, God is doing a new thing” (43:18-19). God is stirring Cyrus to get Israel out of Babylon. He is raising up the Suffering Servant to get Babylon out of Israel. The Lord promises that His story does what it says. Isaiah 55:11, “so shall My word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to Me empty.” We are the subject of God’s story, so much so that we line up, each one, and “write on our hand” not “belonging to Babylon,” but “belonging to the Lord.”
God has always told His story on people’s bodies; call it Skin! In Genesis 4:15, the Lord marks Cain. In Genesis 17, the Lord gives Abraham and his offspring the covenant mark of circumcision. Deuteronomy 6:8 describes people tying God’s words on their hands and binding them on their foreheads.
It all points to the greatest story told on human skin. Isaiah describes this body, “His appearance was so disfigured beyond that of any man, and his form marred beyond human likeness…Like one from whom men hide their faces He was despised, and we esteemed Him not…We all, like sheep, have gone astray. And the Lord has laid upon Him the iniquity of us all” (Is. 52:14; 53:3,6). One spear, three nails, and a crown of thorns left their marks on Jesus.
But first the Ten, and then climatically Thomas, saw Jesus alive; and what shall we call that story? Call it Skin. Our Savior showed His skin. He is forever marked with scars announcing for you, right here, right now, His loyal love and His free forgiveness and His everlasting grace. And so people began lining up to be marked.
Eyes marked with tenderness and kindness; a smile marked with delight and friendship; a mind marked by toughness and truth; hands marked with helpfulness and humility; and a mouth marked with Jesus and joy.
To be part of this counter-cultural narrative, all we need is one word: leyahweh – in English, “belonging to the Lord.” How does that happen? Recall the water, remember the Word, and forever cherish the liturgical rite when you were baptized. “Receive the sign of the holy cross, both upon your forehead and upon your heart to mark you as one redeemed by Christ the crucified.”
Just because we live in Babylon does not mean we will live like the Babylonians. My life and your life tell another story. We are consumed with another narrative. And what is that called? Jesus . . . with skin.
Amen.

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March 1, 2015 Text: Romans 5:1-11

Dear Friends in Christ,

Exactly six months from today, the whole world will celebrate again one of the greatest days in human history. On Sept. 1 we’ll reach the seventieth anniversary of the end of World War II. Peace. Of course, that peace left millions dead, including over 400,000 Americans, many of whom are buried in Europe or the Pacific in cemeteries marked by rows and rows of white crosses.
Many of these grave markers bore the initials “R.I.P.” for the Latin requiescat in pace, meaning, with the same initials in English, “rest in peace” – words written and spoken on the dead. Is that really peace? Can there be peace when someone lies in the grave – whether death has come violently in war or peacefully in one’s own bed? And what about while we live? Since the world never lives in peace, can we?
“R.I.P. – REST IN PEACE?”
Paul had stated earlier in Ephesians that apart from Jesus, we have no hope and can expect only eternal death. Now here in our text, he continues to describe how desperate we were: “we were still weak” (v. 6). There is never a good time to be weak. Weak in sin, weak in moral fortitude, weak in faith. That does a nice job of describing you and me. Paul goes on to say, “we were still sinners” (v. 8) We know that’s true, don’t we? We still sin. Sometimes it seems as if our lives have wandered into one of those survival shows on television and we are about to be eliminated, or at least have questions about lasting longer than a few more weeks or months. Too many false calculations, too many wrong-headed decisions. Too much time spent looking out for ourselves to the detriment of others.
But it gets worse. We aren’t just weak and sinful; we were enemies of God. Verse 10, “we…were…enemies.” Enemies of God.
Enemies? But God is so nice. He’s the “Big Guy Upstairs,” the doting uncle who gives you daily treats of bread and breath. It’s hard to imagine being a screaming-in-your-face enemy of God. But look at the crowd in front of Pontius Pilate. “Crucify him! Crucify him!” goes the shouting. (Matt. 27:22-23) Yeah, like I said, we’d never do that. Enemies of God?
Yeah, world war. The whole world has been at war with God since the time of Adam and Eve. Enemies. Not buds who occasionally step on each other’s toes. Not allies who occasionally disagree about foreign policy. Enemies. Every one of our sins puts us at war with God. False calculations – enemies! Wrong-headed decisions – enemies! Looking out for ourselves – enemies! Our sin means war. Our indifference isn’t neutrality; it’s opposition. Jesus says, “Whoever is not with me is against me” (Mt. 12:30). Enemies of God. No resting in peace for us.
But…but. “While we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly” (v. 6) Despite our weakness, Jesus became weak in death. To see in Scripture the almighty Lord and Savior sweat blood and stumble down the street with a cross on his torn back and then his weak hands and feet nailed to the cross – what wondrous love. Jesus wrested the keys of death from the devil and now Jesus holds them in his strong, resurrected hand. You are “died for” by Jesus. Weak and ungodly, yes, but washed in the peace-giving blood of Jesus.
And if he couldn’t preach enough good news, Paul continues, “While were still sinners, Christ died for us” (v. 8). While you were weak, the death of Jesus became your death in Baptism. You did nothing, have done nothing, to be saved. Jesus takes the weak you and makes you strong and redeemed. Is that not a peaceful message, one that can give you rest even in the worst of times?
And while we were also enemies, Jesus in his great love for you defeated your enemies – devil and sin and death. When “R.I.P.” is said of you at death it will be true. But that peace is also yours right now. Reconciled by Jesus, you now have “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, which will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:7).
Wherever we may be buried – in a military cemetery or the plot next to a country church – whatever may mark our grave – polished marble or weathered wood – if our lives have been marked with the cross, we will most surely rest in peace.
Today, Paul celebrates the end of the world war, and we rest in peace because Jesus ended the world war. “R.I.P.” – Rejoice in the peace of Jesus, dear people of God. Fear not, and rest in His peace.
Amen.

February 22, 2015 Text: Genesis 22:1-18

Dear Friends in Christ,

Recently Toni and I found out about a tragedy in different ways. She learned about it while talking with her mother. Members of the Jirovec family informed me when I was helping pack the truck for Dawn’s move. It involved a 17-year-old young man who was killed by a drunk driver around the community in Minnesota where Toni grew up. She was familiar with the family.
The other night as I was doing the dishes Toni read me the obituary from her phone. As she did all I could think about was that obituary could have been for either of our sons. Star athlete, popular at school, homecoming king, helped out at his church, good student, got along well with everybody. I will admit it got me a little emotional.
That is what having children can do to us. I once received a letter from a friend who said they never understood love until they had a child. Many of you are blessed this morning to have your child or children next to you in the pew. Many more of you can think about your child or children as I relate these stories. For our children they don’t fully understand the love a parent has for their child. But they will – oh they will!
Abraham is that parent. Isaac is that son. It tugs at our heartstrings. It is emotional. The parents of the young man killed in the accident could have thought this. Abraham would have been justified if he asked God . . .
“WHY ME?”
Abraham might surely have asked, “Why me?” when God asked him to take his son Isaac and sacrifice him as a burnt offering. This request from God was an amazing test of faith. Isaac was the son given to Abraham and Sarah in their old age. He was the heir who would continue God’s covenant promise to Abraham. For this and the fact he was the boy’s father Abraham loved Isaac. Oh the heartache of this parent as God makes his request.
But this test was met with faith and obedience. Abraham trusted God. He trusted in spite of the past challenges in receiving a son. He trusted in spite of future plans God predicted through that son. Abraham did as God commanded. He obeyed in spite of the three-day journey to change his mind. He obeyed in spite of the emotions he must have felt as he heard Isaac’s questions. We’ve been there, haven’t we? You hurt when your child hurts. Our empathy is strongest with our children. We completely understand the “Why me?”
While Abraham may have been asking the “Why me?” God was answering “I will” provide the lamb. God provided the lamb for Abraham. God provided the lamb for all people. God does what he would not allow Abraham to do: Not “Why me?” from Abraham, but “I will” from God.
Rembrandt painted Abraham just as he is about to thrust the knife into Isaac. In the painting, as Abraham looks up in response to God’s call, the knife is actually flying out of his hand into the air as if he had been waiting for the voice. Rembrandt portrays a mixture of awe, amazement, and relief on Abraham’s face. The painting is even more poignant when we learn that the same model used for Abraham’s face was used for the father in the return of the prodigal son. Both paintings capture the Father-heart of God.
He is our blessed Father and God’s “I will” is the result of and a demonstration of his love for sinners. And “to this day” God does work in the midst of our “Why me’s?” to provide his “I will.” God will provide for the one enduring the trials. The Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, who was faithful for us in all trials and temptations, now offers forgiveness freely, including those times when we prove unfaithful in the midst of life’s trials. With joy and thanksgiving, God’s words to Abraham can be spoken to him concerning his own Son, Jesus Christ: “You have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.” In this way, “Why me?” can become an expression of wonder and astonishment in the face of God’s grace toward sinners.
Sometimes we pooh-pooh the fact that God sacrificed His son Jesus. We don’t get to the same place emotionally for one reason or another. His though was the ultimate sacrifice because it paid the price for all of us. He lived perfectly, yet was tortured, beaten, and killed. His resurrection gives us hope in the midst of the “Why me’s?” when we are undergoing life’ trials.
Abraham remained faithful to the words of God in the midst of what seemed illogical and contrary to reason. This faithfulness is ours through the Holy Spirit. We trust the promises of God in the midst of what seems to us illogical and contrary.
God’s people have received and continue to receive encouragement through the example of Abraham remaining faithful and obedient to God. That is why this incident is cited in Hebrews 11:17 and James 2:21. In the same way, faithfulness on the part of God’s children today can be a source of great encouragement for others, even encouraging unbelievers to inquire as to the source of their steadfast hope in the midst of life’s trials. Martin Luther wrote this, “One Christian who has been tried is worth a hundred who have not been tried, for the blessing of God grows in trials. He who has experienced them can teach, comfort, and advise many in body and spiritual matters.”
The story of the young man killed by the drunk driver made it from small town Minnesota to the big city newspaper in Minneapolis. In the article, the mother of the young man was quoted as saying, “We were blessed to have Colton for 17 years. We want you to pray for the man who was drunk and caused the accident. He has a wife and family as well. They need your prayers.” Wow! That can only come from a Christian who knows the hope we have through Christ. What a witness.
May God give us the faith by which He will work in us and through us, especially during those times we are tempted to ask, “Why me?”
Amen

February 18, 2015 – Ash Wednesday Text: Isaiah 41:14-16

Dear Friends in Christ,

If you could be any animal in the world, which one would you choose? Maybe, like Isaiah, you would soar on wings like an eagle. Or, like Amos, perhaps the lion is your animal of choice because he is king of the jungle. Or maybe, like Elisha, you boast in the bear, because you could maim and maul.
How many of you would like to become a worm? Show of hands? That’s what I thought – we don’t have any worm wannabes in the sanctuary tonight. Worms have no arms, no legs, and no eyes! They are small and insignificant and if you ask me they don’t have the best of personalities.
No one ever stops their car to rescue a worm. We don’t read editorials that say we must stop the genocidal atrocity taking place in our lakes and rivers. Think of a worm being a team’s mascot. Will we ever hear of the Los Angeles Leaches or the Michigan Maggots or the Washington Worms? I don’t think so.
Our text Isaiah 41:14 calls God’s people a worm: “Fear not, you worm Jacob.” Why does God call the community in Babylon a worm? Didn’t He get the memo that calling someone a worm isn’t the best way to boost self-esteem or encourage people to get up and get going?
Buried under the boot of Babylon, in Isaiah 40-55 the exiles are also called weak and weary, bruised reeds and smoldering wicks, deaf and blind, childless, widowed, divorced, and a stubborn rebel from birth. God has a word for that: worm.
It is Ash Wednesday, another season of the Passion and . . .
“GOD HAS A WORD FOR THAT”
“You worm Jacob” is equated with “those who are dead.” Isaiah’s invites us to compare dead people with worms. Dead people are buried – so are worms. Dead people are stepped on – so are worms. Dead people are surrounded by dirt – so are worms. Dead people are ignored and soon forgotten – and so are worms.
The exiles had seen terror on every side. They are caught in a culture where their most treasured narratives and liturgies are being mocked, trivialized, or dismissed as being simply irrelevant. The beast called Babylon had swallowed everything up. Their hopelessness is epitomized in Psalm 22:1: “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” And then in verse 6 David says, “I am a worm and not a man.”
Now, what should I think of myself when I am captive to sin and far away from the Father? When I don’t walk humbly with God? When I feel no compassion for the lost? When I take no delight in the Word, recoil from prayer, harbor lustful thoughts and pant for the praises of people? When I am deceptive, mean-spirited, and petty? God has a word for that: worm. “Pastor, didn’t you get the memo that calling people a worm isn’t the best way to boost self-esteem or encourage us to get up and get going?”
No, I didn’t. Because thinking highly of ourselves has nothing to do with God’s Word. Rather He longs for us to cry out with Isaiah, “I am a man of unclean lips”; and with Job, “Therefore I despise myself, and repent in dust and ashes”; and with Paul, “O wretched man that I am, who will deliver me from this body of death!” This is what Lent is all about. Acknowledging who we are in God’s sight – sinful and unclean in thought, word, and deed. Lent is when we confess these sins, grieve over them, and repent before Almighty God. You see, only people who are dead and buried and surrounded by dirt cry out for life and resurrection.
Hear again Isaiah 41:14: “Fear not, you worm Jacob, you men of Israel! I am the One who helps you, declares the Lord; your Redeemer is the Holy One of Israel.” The Lord is not a football coach rallying the team. He is “your Redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.” A redeemer is your next-of-kin-relative who buys back your inheritance, frees you from slavery, and pays off your debt. Whatever has gone bad, your redeemer will make good.
Couple with Redeemer is “Holy One of Israel.” It means the Lord is completely set apart and different from everyone and everything else.
Isaiah couples your Redeemer – the completely immanent One – with the Holy One of Israel – the completely transcendent One. In this way, he announces that the Lord alone is able to marshal every power in the universe for a single, loving, furious, relentless goal – to bring us love and life, forgiveness and salvation!
How does He do it? In the fullness of time, God became our next-of-kin-relative, literally. And then He took another step. He became dirty, despised, and dismissed. But then He took another, almost incomprehensible step. It was one for the ages. “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” And then verse 6, “I am a worm and not a man.” Here is Jesus, nailed to the tree, His body bent and twisted. Here is Jesus, a bloody, horrific mess. Here is Jesus, mocked, ridiculed, and abandoned. God has a word for that: worm.
He did it all for you. And so God’s transforming word to us is exactly this. Isaiah 41:15 and 16: “Behold, I make of you a threshing sledge, new, sharp, and having teeth; you shall thresh the mountains and crush them, and you shall make the hills like chaff; you shall winnow them, and the wind shall carry them away, and the tempest will scatter them. And you shall rejoice in the Lord; in the Holy One of Israel you shall glory.”
Worms become mountain movers! The lowly and despised are loved and lifted up. Our Lenten sackcloth and ashes are not the last word. On Easter they will be exchanged for baptismal robes washed white in the blood of Jesus. “The blind see, the lame walk, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the gospel is preached to the poor.” (Matt. 11:5) God has a word for that. Grace!
Amen.

February 15, 2015 – Transfiguration Text: Mark 9:2-9

Dear Friends in Christ,

Toni and I were vacationing with my parents and 3 year-old Karson in Monterrey, California. We were at appropriately…and my mom always thought this was funny…Dennis the Menace Park. This is a great park for children. Slides and swings and sand and you’re on the coast of California. Anyway, Karson had a wonderful time sliding and swinging and just enjoying being a kid. At some point it had to end. We had other places we wanted to go to and we didn’t want to wear out the grandparents. Karson, of course, didn’t want to go. It wasn’t quite Dennis the Menace like but you can understand his reasons for wanting to stay. He was in his glory – take a look at this park on the Internet and you will know what I mean.
We were all kids once. We can relate. There are places we just did not want to leave. As adults our understanding is a little different. We know we have to come down the mountain. Life is like that. And when it is, aren’t we glad we have a Savior? It’s Transfiguration Sunday and the Lord says . . .
“HERE I AM”
On the mountain of glory, a sustained heavenly visit has appeal. It did for Peter, James, and John. Who could blame them. Jesus had talked about being killed, denying self, taking up a cross, losing one’s life. Now they are in heaven’s company with Moses and Elijah and it seemed better.
It would be for us too especially if the last word we heard from the surgeon was cancer, or from the boss, “We’re going to let you go.” Just as we are prone to rely on worldly diversions – in the workshop, playing video games, snapchatting, facebooking, on Netflix, shopping, investing in our sports teams, knitting – to avoid the painful realities of life, surely we’d welcome a heavenly interruption by the likes of Moses and Elijah for the same reason.
How powerless life’s problems seem when we allow our imaginations to converse with the one who crossed the Red Sea and stood before I AM on holy ground. Or sit beside the prophet and ask him about the chariot of fire. A sustained heavenly visit has great appeal.
For Jesus, securing our eternal glory for us had greater appeal. He must go back down the mountain. There is but one plan of salvation and He is it. The blood of thousands and thousands of lambs sacrificed for hundreds of years means nothing, and the Spirit of death cannot “pass over” our sins if the blood of the Lamb of God is not poured out for us. Jesus would descend from the mount of glory not to provide people with problems, one more temporary diversion, but to reach the crest of Calvary, curing people of life’s problems, even sin, death, and hell, for all eternity.
Jesus leads his disciples back down the mountain. They were to be strengthened by this heavenly meeting for what was now to come – Jesus’ suffering and theirs. Following Jesus is not a passive life. It’s highly interactive. Now works righteousness here. No merits for salvation earned or given. It’s just that Jesus’ followers follow.
The pains suffered by first-century Christians is well-documented. Scripture itself tells us of Paul, Peter, James, and Stephen. We know about the millions of Christians today who are persecuted around the world. If we are not directly persecuted for our faith, then life’s situations – illness, divorce, trouble with children, loss of job, old age, finances – cause suffering or hardship. It becomes suffering for Christ’s sake when we endure and respond in faith.
Followers of Jesus will not allow the quality of life, money matters, or worldly comforts to dictate our outlook or decisions. Rather, we picture ourselves coming down the mountain, not alone, but with Jesus saying, “Here I AM with you,” and we know His glory will prevail.
Jesus’s followers know that he says, “I AM here to strengthen you through suffering.” And, “I AM here with you in suffering to use you to witness to others.”
Pastor Richard Wurmbrand knows about Christ’s strength for him in suffering and about witnessing. Before his release in 1964, he was tortured for 14 years in communist Romanian prisons for his involvement with the Christian underground.
At one time, Rev. Wurmbrand survived on an hour of sleep a night with a guard opening and shutting the spyhole in the door each minute or so. His interrogator constantly threated him, “Don’t you know I can order your execution tonight?” Wurmbrand spoke of Christ and told his torturer to put his hand over Wurmbrand’s heart. If it beat rapidly from fright, the man would know there is no God and no eternal life. If it beat calmly, indicating Wurmbrand was at peace, then the interrogator would know there is a God and eternal life. Instead of putting his hand on Wurmbrand’s chest, he struck his face saying, “Can’t you see that…your savior, or whatever you call him, isn’t going to open any prison doors?” Wurmbrand replied, “His name is Jesus Christ, and if He wishes, He can release me.”
Paul writes, “Our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” (Rom. 8:18) That is the way it is for Jesus’ followers. We work and witness and even suffer for Christ. We are not earning a trip to heaven. We just know that He has work for us to do. By His own work and witness, death and resurrection, He earned our trip to heaven. We follow Him because He says, “I AM here with you on earth, and I AM taking you to be with me in heaven.”
Amen.